In my last life, I was kidnapped alongside the fake heiress, Lilith Howe, at the same time.

My father, the richest man in the country, claimed he had to prove his impartiality. Without a second thought, he told the police to rescue Lilith first and refused to pay a ransom for me.

In front of the cameras, he declared with solemn conviction, "A daughter of the Howes must have backbone. We will never give in to criminals!"

Lilith returned without a single scratch, and the internet crowned her a miracle girl.

Meanwhile, I was killed by the kidnappers. There was barely anything left of me to bury.

As my soul hovered above the scene, I watched my brother sneer at what little remained.

"Good," he said. "At least she won't come back and be an eyesore to Lilith. We'll finally have some peace in the house."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the kidnappers called with their demands.

A knife was pressed against my throat.

On the other end of the line, my father's voice was just as cold, just as absolute. "I'm not choosing. My money belongs to charity. If she's a Howe, she should be ready to sacrifice for the family."

I laughed.

If he was willing to destroy his own flesh and blood for the sake of so-called honor, then this time, I would grant them a reunion in hell!

The call ended, but the knife was still pressed to my throat, icy against my skin.

The kidnapper's leader glared at me. "Your dad doesn't want you. So do you wanna die now, or be buried alive? Pick one."

I looked up at him, my gaze calm and empty as I recited a string of numbers.

"An offshore private bank. The account holder is the Howe Corporation Trust. Password is 778899. There's ten million inside, money Nelson Howe was preparing to move overseas for his illegitimate son."

His hand jerked. The blade sliced into my skin.

"Kidnapping me for a one-million-dollar ransom gets you prison," I said hoarsely, my voice low and coaxing. "Taking money that can't see daylight means no one will call the cops. Let me go. You keep the cash. Courtesy of the Howes."

Ten minutes later, after the transfer cleared, he stared at me like I was some kind of monster.

He kicked me out of the car and dumped me on a winding mountain road under pouring rain.

"Hell of a move, Ms. Howe."

I dragged my bleeding left hand, step by step, back to the Howe estate.

Rain washed over the wounds. The pain of my severed finger had gone numb, leaving only a cold that sank into my bones.

It was phantom pain from how I had died last time, and this time, the price I paid by cutting it off myself to convince the kidnappers.

The estate was brightly lit.

Cheerful jazz floated through the rain, music for a celebration thrown to calm Lilith Howe after her "narrow escape".

I rang the doorbell.

The butler opened the door. The moment his eyes landed on my mud-soaked, blood-stained body, his brows twisted, and he covered his nose without thinking.

"Ms. Alexis… You're back?"

There was no surprise. Only disgust.

"Mr. Howe is inside cutting cake with Ms. Lilith. You'll scare her if you go in like this."

I pushed past him and walked straight into the hall.

The lively banquet room fell dead silent.

Every gaze locked onto me, as if I were a beggar who had wandered into a palace.

Under the crystal chandelier, Lilith stood in a custom white dress, fragile as porcelain, surrounded by people fawning over her.

My mother froze for a second, then rushed toward me.

Her eyes reddened. She reached out as if to hug me, but stopped short when she saw dirty water dripping from my clothes onto the expensive rug.

She turned and snapped at the staff, "Get towels! Don't let the mess spread."

Then she handed me a dry towel, her voice full of blame, wrapped in fake concern.

"I'm so glad you're back. But why didn't you use the side entrance? Lilith just had a scare. She's not doing very well. What if she saw blood and got upset?"

I clutched the towel but didn't wipe my face, letting rainwater mix with blood and drip onto the floor.

"Mom, I was kidnapped for three days."

My mother's eyes flickered. "I know, but your dad was thinking about the bigger picture. You know the Howes can't bow to criminals."

The crowd parted as my father, Nelson, walked over, a glass of red wine in his hand.

He looked me up and down without asking about my injuries, his face dark as a storm about to break.

"Why did the kidnappers let you go?"

The question echoed through the hall.

"They got what they wanted," I said flatly.

Nelson's pupils shrank. He assumed I had paid a ransom, and his anger flared instantly. "Who told you to give them money? I said no ransom, for justice! Did you agree to something you shouldn't have?"

His gaze slid over my torn clothes, his voice rising and sharp with malice. "Or did you let them sleep with you just to stay alive? The Howes can't afford that kind of shame."

Whispers rippled through the guests, their looks turning knowing and ugly.

Lilith hid behind him, peeking out with an innocent face and delivering the final blow. "It's okay, Alexis. What's important is that you're alive. Things like purity don't really matter. We're family. We won't look down on you."

In just a few sentences, I went from victim to family disgrace.

I stared at these well-dressed relatives, my stomach twisting violently.

Last time, I had died a horrible death, just to protect their dignity.

This time, all I wanted was to rip that skin clean off them myself.

-

The next morning, the Howe estate exploded.

Nelson smashed his favorite antique vase in the study.

Ten million dollars in dirty money had vanished. It was his escape fund, the money he had set aside to pave the way for his illegitimate son.

The trail led to an offshore laundering account. He didn't dare call the police and could only swallow the loss in silence.

He suspected the kidnappers, but even more, he suspected me. But he didn't dare ask, because if he did, it meant admitting the money was dirty.

He came downstairs with a black expression and saw me sitting at the dining table, quietly eating oatmeal.

I wore gloves to hide my missing finger.

"Get yourself ready. There's a media interview this afternoon," Nelson ordered, his tone absolute. "Say the kidnappers were intimidated by my sense of justice and let you go on their own. You'll cooperate and help solidify my image as a champion of the rule of law."

He desperately needed good press to cover the hole in his finances. He was also running for trade council chairman.

I set my spoon down and said nothing.

"Did you hear me?" He tapped the table impatiently.

"I heard you, Father."

The stylist arrived, dusting powder on my face to hide the bruise at the corner of my mouth. They also told me to take off my gloves and change into a sleeveless dress.

I refused. "My hand's injured."

My mother yanked the lace glove away and forced it onto my left hand, rough and impatient. She hit the wound, and pain broke out so hard that cold sweat poured down my back.

"This will do," she warned. "Your father's about to be evaluated for trade council chairman. This is a critical moment. Don't ruin the big picture over a tiny injury. Lilith was so worried about you, she couldn't sleep last night. So what if you suffered a little physical pain?"

To them, Lilith losing sleep mattered more than my missing finger.

At the interview site, cameras flashed nonstop.

Nelson hugged me tightly in front of the lenses, his eyes wet with tears.

"As a father, my heart aches," he said. "But in the face of justice, I had to set an example. Thankfully, good triumphs over evil, and my daughter has returned, safe and sound."

Nelson spoke with passion and conviction. The room erupted in applause, and reporters praised him as a businessman willing to sacrifice his own flesh and blood for justice.

I lowered my head on cue, my body trembling slightly.

To outsiders, it looked like I was overwhelmed with emotion.

In reality, it was because Nelson's hand was locked tight around my injured forearm.

He leaned in close and hissed into my ear, his voice venomous.

"Smile more naturally, or I'll pull the plug on your grandmother's ventilator! That old hag is in a care facility. I can decide whether she lives or dies in one sentence."

My grandmother was my only weakness in this world.

Nelson knew exactly how to control me.

I lifted my head and forced a smile that looked worse than crying.

The interview ended, and we returned backstage.

Nelson released me with disgust, took a wet wipe from his assistant, and scrubbed his hands as if he had touched something filthy.

"I'm glad you know your place." He tossed an elegant gift box at me. "This is your compensation."

I opened it.

Inside was neither jewelry nor cash, but a Declaration of Renunciation of Inheritance Rights and a one-way plane ticket overseas.

"To avoid suspicion, the family assets will go to Lilith," Nelson said casually. "You were kidnapped, after all. Your reputation's damaged, and there's a stain on you. Staying here would hurt Howe Corporation's stock price."

He spoke as if it were only natural.

"Sign it, and go abroad. I'll give you some money to spend. Don't stay here and be an eyesore."

Nearby, Lilith was opening her own gift.

Inside was a dazzling pink diamond necklace. The center stone was enormous, its sparkle blinding.

Lilith squealed, "Thanks, Dad! How much did this cost?"

"Ten million dollars," Nelson said warmly, patting her head. "Exactly what the kidnappers asked for. See? I didn't give them a cent. I saved it and bought you a gift instead. That's keeping wealth in the family."

Ten million dollars.

So in my father's calculations, my life was worth exactly the stone hanging around the fake heiress's neck.

I looked at the document in my hand, the corner of my mouth lifting into a faint, cold smile.

"Fine. I'll sign it."

Only after signing would the show truly get interesting.

-

With the dirty money gone, a massive hole opened up in the company's accounts.

Nelson and my brother, Randall Howe, panicked like cats on a hot tin roof.

At dinner, Randall tossed a thick stack of documents in front of me.

"Since you're not leaving the country, go help out at the company," he said. "These are the subsidiary's financial statements. Check them and sign."

His tone was full of contempt.

"Dad's right. You're the elder sister. It's time you got some real experience."

I flipped through the files.

Every page was fake. Tax evasion, inflated profits, fabricated transactions. The moment I signed, I would become the legal scapegoat and rot in prison for the rest of my life.

This was their idea of experience.

"Sure. I'll sign."

I picked up the pen and signed my name cleanly.

What they couldn't see was that I had already set a timed delivery of the real data backup straight to the inbox of the Regulatory Enforcement Division.

"There's more good news," Randall said, visibly pleased as he sliced into his steak. "Mr. Schultz really admires your so-called sense of justice. He wants to form a marriage alliance and invest in Howe Corporation."

Paul Schultz was infamous in their circles, a pervert who had caused the death of three wives.

This was the future they had arranged for me, selling me at a good price to plug the financial hole.

My mother placed the most tender piece of fish onto Lilith's plate and turned to advise me.

"Alexis, you lost a finger, and your reputation is ruined. You should count your lucky stars that Mr. Schultz doesn't mind! We don't want people to talk. Young men from decent families would think you're tainted. Marrying someone like Mr. Schultz is the practical choice. He's older and knows how to take care of a woman."