In my haze, I heard Dad making a call. His voice broke as he cried, "Daniel, please… Selena's going to die…"

Then, I blacked out completely.

When I came to, I found myself in a hospital room with an IV in my hand. I tried to sit up, but a warm hand gently pressed my shoulder. "Don't move."

I turned to see Daniel sitting by the bed, his face dark with anger. "Mr. Quigley? How are you…"

"I flew back last night," he cut me off, his jaw tight with restrained fury. "I've been overseas on business. If your dad hadn't called me, how long were you planning to keep this from me? You're still so young. Why didn't you reach out? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

He had never spoken to me so harshly before.

I faltered. "I just didn't want to drag you into this mess… Um, where's Dad?"

"Your problems are never a burden!" he snapped. Then, he took a deep breath to steady himself. "He went out to get food."

Daniel told me I was in bad condition. I had stomach ulcers compounded by long-term nutrition. If I kept ignoring it, it could turn cancerous.

"Come with me, Selena." He looked at me. "Let me take care of you. We'll get you healthy."

The door flew open, and Dad rushed in, a takeout container in his hands. He planted himself by my bedside, his eyes red with agitation. "No one is taking my daughter away from me! I'll change this time, I swear! No more gambling, and I'll quit drinking, too!"

Daniel didn't look at him. He merely asked me, "Selena, do you trust him?"

I took in Dad's remorseful face and smiled. "I do."

Daniel's gaze flickered with a mix of emotions I couldn't read. Then, he nodded. "Fine. I'll help him one last time for your sake."

He meant it. He gave Dad seed money, guided him into setting up a legitimate business, and personally showed him the ropes.

This time, Dad worked like a man possessed. He quit drinking and gambling, and he earned enough to pay my hospital bills.

A month later, a new semester at college started, and I was discharged. Dad rented a place in a safe neighborhood, paid my tuition in full, and even bought me a pretty cocktail dress.

"There's a freshman welcome dance," he said, looking at me awkwardly yet hopefully. "My daughter should look her best."

My heart softened, and I hugged him. "Thanks, Dad."

Half a year passed, and he was a different man. He stayed low-key even after making money; he no longer splurged on unnecessary things.

Right before Christmas, he cleared all the debt he'd accumulated and even got back Cloudside Villa.

We celebrated Christmas there with Daniel. A feast was laid out.

Dad raised his glass to me. "Thank you, Selena, for giving me a new life."

I lifted mine, too. For a moment, my mind slipped. In my past life, I'd died on Christmas. This time, everything had changed.

…

The next day, Anne Moore, the daughter of Dad's business partner, called to invite us to a gala.

When we arrived that night, Dad and Daniel were ushered off to talk shop. Anne personally got me a cocktail. I strolled toward the dessert table and picked up a small slice of cake. Just then, a shriek split the air behind me.

"Selena!"

I turned to see Camila's gaunt face. She'd wasted away and looked like she'd shrunk two sizes. She wore an opulent dress that hung limp on her, like all life had been drained out of her.

"You're not dead? How is that possible?" She deliberately raised her voice. "You must've agreed to let Dad sell you off, right? Did you find some rich guy? Or did you agree to be a surrogate? Come on—tell me how Dad tortured you!"

Anne hurried over, looking at Camila with confusion and disgust. "What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you insult our most important guest, you lunatic! Selena and her father, Mr. Walker, are newly minted tycoons who are worth over a hundred million dollars!"

Camila jolted like she'd been shocked, the blood draining from her face, leaving it a sickly white.