I am the only son of the Jacobs family. However, the price of my family's hundred-billion-dollar fortune was being kidnapped three times before I turned ten.

My father assigned me a hundred bodyguards. Even going to school required a convoy of three bulletproof cars.

"Choose a wife—someone who can stay by your side day and night," my father said.

Without hesitation, I chose Hazel, the gentlest woman I knew. But on our wedding day, she dismissed all my bodyguards, and I was kidnapped.

I was tied to a rooftop, and a man in a mask tightly pressed a knife against my throat.

On the other end of the phone, Hazel sneered coldly, “Andrew, do you think this is funny? You had thugs bully Dylan. He’s the real victim here. Who are you putting on this show for?”

“I simply had your bodyguards protect him around the clock. I wanted you to taste fear for once.”

I counted the chimes of the rooftop clock.

With every hour, I lost a finger.

Eventually, my blood ran dry, and my heart died with it.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the day when I was told to choose a wife.

My father still held the same eight photos in his hand.

This time, my finger brushed past Hazel without hesitation and pointed to a face in the corner with a lazy, mocking, and a hint of mischief in her gaze.

But my father said, "That one is already dead."

——

I stared at the eight photos, my hand unwavering as it passed over Hazel’s soft and delicate smile, landing squarely on the bottom photo—a girl with tanned skin and a languid grin.

Dad was stunned. "Andrew, didn’t you always like Hazel? Why choose Eleanor?"

My fists clenched, veins bulging.

Eleanor had always been the star of the school athletics team, a social butterfly in the elite circles of New York.

Her skin was sun-kissed from racing tracks and club lights.

She practically lived on racetracks and in nightclubs, always surrounded by charming, high-profile men. My father couldn’t stand her wild lifestyle. Before she even graduated from university, he sent her off to a remote mountain village with a meaningless, dead-end assignment—just to get rid of her.

But I remembered—on that rooftop in my past life, as my blood dripped away and I leapt from the edge, the last thing I saw was Eleanor’s face, frantic, charging toward me like a madwoman.

Her face was twisted with terror and heartbreak.

“She’s the one,” I said, my voice trembling.

Dad frowned and pulled out his phone, flipping through his contacts—then stopped awkwardly as he fell silent.

He didn’t even have her number saved.

How ironic. All eight girls were his “adopted daughters,” yet Eleanor wasn’t even worth a contact name.

The assistant’s call came back quickly.

“Chairman, Eleanor died last month in Sapphire Village. She was caught in a landslide.”

Dad sighed, “Andrew, choose someone else. Hazel actually—”

“I’m not choosing anyone else,” I stood abruptly, my throat tightened. “If it’s not Eleanor, then I want no one.”

In my last life, those so-called “sisters” fawned over Hazel’s cousin or stood by laughing at my misery.

This time, I’d rather grow old alone than let their fake kindness stab me in the back again.

I stumbled out of the office, Eleanor’s final look etched in my mind.

If even she was gone—who in this world would fight for me?

Suddenly, a cold hand grabbed my wrist, hard.

I looked up and realized it was Hazel.

Dylan stood beside her, leaning slightly against her. His thin and pale, red-rimmed eyes were full of sorrow like he had suffered some great injustice.

Hazel’s expression was gentle, but her tone was cold and firm.

“Andrew, Dylan’s health isn’t great. That hot spring villa under your name is just sitting there. Let him stay for a few days and recover. He’s been having insomnia and coughing nonstop.”

In the past, I would’ve softened and agreed.

But not this time.

I merely glanced at them and clicked my tongue. “I don’t agree.”

Then I dialed my assistant directly. “Lock down the villa. Don’t let any strays sneak in.”

At that instant, Hazel’s face darkened. “Andrew!”

She grabbed my wrist tightly, her grip sharp with pain. “He’s my cousin—he’s going to be part of our family. Can’t you be a little more understanding?”

I scoffed and yanked my arm free. “Who said I’m part of your family?”

Her pupils contracted like she’d been slapped. “You’re being ridiculous! All this over a watch? Dylan only borrowed it once! You’ve got enough luxury watches to fill an entire cabinet—what’s wrong with lending him one?”

Right on cue, Dylan’s eyes turned red, his voice catching with emotion. “Hazel, don’t say that. Andrew has always looked down on me... He’s right. I’m not worthy...”

I didn’t bother watching their little performance, and turned to leave. “I said no. That’s final.”

Back in my room, I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to sleep.

But the dizziness from being reborn still churned in my mind, until a shrill phone ring jolted me awake.

“Sir!” My assistant’s panicked voice came through the receiver.

“Miss Hazel brought Mr. Mendez and barged into the villa! I tried to stop them, but the bodyguards all listened to her!”

I shot up from the bed.

The memory of being kidnapped in my previous life flashed before my eyes.

Back then, the bodyguards who were supposed to protect me also followed Hazel without hesitation—leaving me alone with the kidnappers.

When I stormed into the villa, one of the bodyguards dared to step in front of me.

“Sir Andrew, Miss Hazel gave strict orders—no one is allowed to disturb them.”

Slap!

I struck him across the face with full force.

“You take my salary, but follow her orders?” My entire body trembled with rage. “Get out—now!”

I shoved open the inner room’s doors—and the sight before me made my blood run cold.

Steam curled in the air above the hot spring pool. Dylan leaned weakly against the edge, his cheeks unnaturally flushed.

“Hazel... I feel dizzy...”

Before he could finish, his body slumped forward, sliding toward the deeper end of the spring.

Hazel plunged into the water, her long arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him up.

Water streamed down her soaked white shirt, trickling over Dylan’s bare chest and pooling at his open collar.

“Hazel,” I said coldly, cutting through the mist and drama, “I told you—you’re not welcome here.”

She froze while Dylan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, wet bangs clinging to his forehead.

“Andrew!” Panic flashed in her eyes, but was quickly replaced by anger.

“Must you be so unreasonable? He nearly fainted! Can’t you show a shred of kindness?”

Suddenly, Dylan tore away from her grip, stumbling to his knees in front of me.

He slammed his forehead against the tiled floor. “I’m sorry, Young Master! This is all my fault!”

Blood streamed from his temple.

Then he lurched forward, grabbing at my pant leg—only to suddenly fall backward into the water like he had been shoved.

He thrashed violently. “Help! I’m cramping—!”

Hazel dove back in to drag him out. As they stumbled ashore, her gaze turned sharp with disgust.

“Andrew, you’re utterly heartless!”

She shoved me—hard.

With a loud bang, my back slammed into the pool’s stone edge. A dull pain bloomed instantly.

“If you keep treating Dylan like this...” she said icily, supporting his trembling body, “I won’t marry you.”

I watched them walk away.

Dripping wet, I crawled out of the pool and shouted, “Every bodyguard on duty today—you're fired!”

As I changed clothes, my assistant came running in, face flushed with excitement.

“Young Master! We’ve found a lead on Eleanor!”

Without hesitation, I jumped into the car and raced toward Sapphire Village.

The mountain roads, battered by the storm, were a mess of mud and broken branches. My SUV nearly skidded off the cliff multiple times.

Just as I finally arrived and began to settle in at the town inn—a pair of hands suddenly grabbed me.

The person yanked me into a dark alley, a warm palm clamping tightly over my mouth.

I looked up in shock—straight into a pair of bright, star-like eyes.

“Eleanor?!” I gasped.

She quickly let go, her face flushing red beneath the brim of her baseball cap.

“Y-Young Master... what are you doing here, of all places?”

“You’re supposed to be dead...” My voice trembled.

She scratched her head awkwardly, revealing that familiar little tiger tooth in her smile.

“There was a mole in the local project. The mudslide gave me the perfect chance to fake my death and flush them out.”

“You know how to pull off a stunt like that?” I raised an eyebrow.

But her smile faltered, dimming instantly. “Did I disappoint you again? You’ve always thought I was useless, didn’t you?”

A sharp pang twisted in my chest.

I grabbed her wrist tightly. “Listen to me—you must come back before the 8th. Before the wedding.”

Her body tensed. Her eyes lost their light. “...Fine. I’ll be there. For your wedding.”

“You idiot,” I snapped, stomping my foot in frustration. “I meant I want to marry—”

“Boss! The mole’s on the move!” a voice shouted from the distance.

Eleanor backed away quickly, flustered. “Y-Young Master, this place isn’t safe. You should go. But don’t worry—I’ll be at the wedding.”

Her silhouette vanished down the alley before I could stop her.

I stood rooted to the spot, thoughts churning wildly.

In my previous life, she was the one I paid the least attention to among the eight candidates.

Everyone said she was simple-minded, always messing around in clubs and outdoor circles. She was nothing like Hazel—graceful, polished, and sharp in negotiations. But now I realized, it was always Eleanor who handled the most troublesome clients, the most tangled deals.

Back then, I didn’t see it. But thinking about it now—those so-called “minor tasks” she was given, they were full of landmines. Without sharp instincts and incredible people skills, how could she have navigated them so flawlessly?

On the drive back, I had a new digital wedding invitation made and sent it to Eleanor.

It wasn’t until the middle of the night that my phone finally lit up with her reply.

[Young Master, the bride's name is incorrect. Please update it.]

The "typing..." bubble flickered for a long time. Then another message came through.

[Don’t worry. I’ll definitely come to the wedding.]

I couldn’t help but smile.

She wouldn’t believe anything I said right now anyway. I’d just have to wait until she came back—and tell her everything in person.

My phone buzzed again.

Message after message from Hazel popped up.

[Dylan deserves an apology.]

[Stop being so childish.]

I opened the chat and blocked her without hesitation.

Just knowing Eleanor was still alive—and far more capable than I ever imagined—filled me with a joy I hadn’t felt in years.

I began making serious preparations for the wedding.

One afternoon, I stepped into a luxury tailor shop—and immediately heard a voice I recognized.

“Hazel, how do I look in this?” Dylan stepped out of the fitting room.

He was wearing my custom wedding tuxedo. The sleeves were casually rolled up to reveal his slender wrists.

Hazel was adjusting his collar, her voice light with laughter. “The waist is tailored perfectly.”

“You’ve got such great taste, Hazel.” Dylan lowered his head shyly—but his fingers deliberately traced the satin trim on the pocket.

I forced down my fury and walked over.

Hazel froze when she saw me. She quickly shifted to block Dylan from view, her voice softening.

“Andrew... Dylan’s heart hasn’t been doing well. The doctor said it could be serious, and he just wanted to try it on—”

Dylan coughed weakly and clutched the hem of her shirt like a wounded bird.

“Take. It. Off.” I said coldly.

Dylan's face pale. “M-Sir Andrew, I didn’t mean to—please don’t blame Hazel...”