For seven years, I dated the most powerful man in Australia.

When it came time to marry, Brandon Parrish suddenly suggested a “game”—he wanted to exchange brides.

He swapped me for Marilyn McKnight, a woman who had pursued him obsessively for years. Just seven days, he said. A harmless trial. I refused. I begged. I cried. But he ignored me.

Seven days later, he came back to reclaim me. I refused again, firmly this time. That refusal became the catalyst for my downfall.

Marilyn, driven mad by despair, slit her wrists. She died.

Brandon lost his mind with grief—and turned all his hatred toward me.

“You killed her,” he said. And for that, he made me pay.

He strangled me until I couldn’t breathe, then forced me to strip at her funeral in front of my friends and family. He called me a slut.

He married Marilyn’s urn in a mock wedding and made me watch.

He handed me over to a group of gangsters and told them to “dirty me up.”

When I spoke ill of Marilyn, he cut out my tongue himself.

He shocked me with electricity until my mind fractured, until I wagged my tail and begged for his affection like a broken dog.

And finally—

He burned me alive at her grave.

But fate is cruel and strange.

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day he first proposed the bride exchange.

This time, I said nothing.

I smiled and nodded. “Sure,” I thought. “Go ahead. Be with her.”

Let’s see who regrets it first.

——

“Mom, the wedding’s in seven days... I want to exchange brides.”

Brandon’s calm voice rang through the banquet hall like a gunshot. The room fell silent.

Among the stunned faces were my classmates—from high school to college—people who had witnessed our love story from its beginning.

“What does he mean, exchange brides?”

“Isn’t he marrying Anna Robinson? They’ve been together for seven years!”

“Shh! Are you crazy? Brandon’s the president of Parrish Group now. He can marry whoever he wants. Honestly, Marilyn isn’t a bad choice.”

Their whispers were like needles. I said nothing, only pressed my fingernails into my palms, burying the pain beneath a mask of calm.

Brandon’s eyes searched the crowd—then locked onto her.

Marilyn.

There was a gleam in his eyes. Triumph. Euphoria. Like a man reclaiming his lost treasure.

“Yes,” he declared, walking straight toward her. “I want to marry Marilyn.”

I froze.

That wasn’t what he said in the previous life. Back then, he only wanted seven days...

Could it be—he’s been reborn too?

Marilyn gasped behind her hands, feigning surprise. He took her hand and turned to me.

“Anna,” he said, his voice low and heavy with warning, “you won’t object.”

The look in his eyes confirmed everything.

He remembered.

He wanted to rewrite the ending, just like I did.

Fine. Let’s rewrite it.

I won’t stop you. I won’t cry. I won’t cling.

In this life, you’ll have what you want, Brandon. And when it destroys you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Before I could speak, Judith, his mother, broke into a delighted smile.

“Brandon, you’ve finally come to your senses! I told you, Marilyn is a gentle, filial girl. Much better than daughters from bankrupt families... but you just wouldn’t listen!”

The "daughter of a bankrupt family" was me.

But five years ago, when my father was alive and the Robinson family was thriving, it was this same woman who had dragged her son to our home, begging for our engagement.

How quickly the tide turns.

A flicker of guilt crossed Brandon’s face. Still, he pulled Marilyn closer and said:

“Mother, I was blind before. Now I see clearly. The one I truly love is Marilyn—not Anna.”

He turned back to the crowd, his voice colder now.

“Anna has clung to me for years, keeping me from my real feelings. But I’ve woken up. I won’t be shackled by guilt any longer.”

The moment those words left my mouth, laughter erupted around me.

Pitying eyes. Mocking smirks. Derision.

And standing proudest among them was Marilyn.

She cast me a smug glance before feigning innocence. “Anna,” she said sweetly, “I never meant to steal your boyfriend... but I love Brandon so much. You won’t try to break us apart, will you?”

Brandon tightened his grip on her waist and shot me a warning glare. “She wouldn’t dare.”

I smiled, cool and indifferent. “Alright,” I said softly.

His expression faltered. He had expected the same outburst from my past life—tears, accusations, desperation. Not this.

Not calm.

Not this woman who looked at him as if she had never loved him.

“Good, good!” Judith clapped delightedly. “Then it’s settled. In seven days, everyone is invited to the Parrish family estate to celebrate their wedding!”

Brandon bent down and kissed Marilyn’s blushing cheek. Then he turned and sneered at me.

“Yes, seven days. Don’t you dare be absent, Anna. Marilyn and I both expect your blessing.”

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

He grabbed Marilyn’s hand. “Come on, let’s pick out your ring.”

He brushed past me roughly, vanishing down the hall.

Today was supposed to be Judith’s birthday, but I couldn’t bear to stay another second.

Silently, I climbed the stairs and began packing.

After my family’s downfall, I had nowhere to go—until Brandon took me in and gave me the room next to his.

He had once whispered, “Don’t be afraid, Anna. You’ll always have a home with me. I’ll protect you.”

But promises only last when love does.

Just as I began folding clothes, the door slammed open. A boot kicked over my half-packed suitcase.

Susanne—Brandon’s little sister—stood there, arms crossed, her face gleaming with triumph.

“Well, well. The vixen’s finally leaving. I’ve been waiting for this day forever.”

I had once treated her like a real sister. I had risked my life for her—literally.

When she was kidnapped, I had been the one who bled for her.

Three stab wounds. Almost died.

And all it took for her hatred to bloom was a man—one who publicly said he liked me, not her.

She became best friends with Marilyn, my rival, and schemed daily to get me kicked out.

I looked up and met her eyes—fury bubbling in mine.

She slapped me. Hard.

“What are you glaring at?” she hissed. “Still think you’re my sister-in-law? You’re just a cheap, seductive bitch.”

She raised her hand to strike again—but this time, I caught her wrist.

I rose to my feet, face to face with her. My voice was cold.

“I may not be your sister-in-law anymore... but I am your savior. Did you forget who dragged you out of that hellhole? Or has gratitude become too heavy for the Parrish family to carry?”

Then I shoved her.

She stumbled backward, crashing onto the bed. Stunned, she gawked at me, then shrieked:

“You pushed me?! Even my brother and my mother wouldn’t dare push me! I’m the little princess of this house!”

Seconds later, Judith stormed in—bodyguards in tow.

Susanne burst into fake tears and dove into her mother’s arms. “She hit me, Mommy! She dared to lay a hand on me!”

Judith didn’t speak. Just gave a signal.

The bodyguards grabbed me roughly—twisting my arms behind my back, yanking my hair until I was forced to look up.

The slap came.

Then another.

And another."

Each strike rang out like a gunshot, slicing through the silence.

The sharp smack echoed relentlessly through the room.

Judith didn’t stop until her hands went numb, trembling as she shook them.

My face was swollen, blood trickling from the corners of my lips. The pain stung, but compared to the horrors I endured in my past life, it was nothing.

“I’ve hated you for a long time,” Judith spat with venom. “If it weren’t for my son protecting you, you’d have been out on the streets ages ago.”

“You’re nothing but a dog living under someone else’s roof—and you dare to bark at your master?”

Her eyes burned with scorn as she sneered, “How can you even compare to Marilyn? Her parents run the EastBridge Holdings. And you? A poor orphan with no standing.”

She looked at me with cold pride, clearly satisfied by Marilyn’s prestigious background. She’d been desperate to tear us apart for years, but Brandon had always stood by me.

Thankfully, it seemed he had finally woken up and seen through my facade.

Watching Judith revel in her moment of triumph, I couldn’t help but sneer inside.

After all her praise for the rich and ruthless trampling of the weak—she too could stumble.

And Marilyn? That sweet little flower wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She hid dark secrets beneath that porcelain smile.

But I wasn’t about to dig up Parrish family dirt. Not again.

The bodyguards released me, and I collapsed to the floor, drained.

Looking up into Judith’s eyes, I smiled softly.

“You’re right. I don’t measure up to Marilyn. So I’m moving out.”

Judith’s brow furrowed in confusion at my meek tone, but she only said, “You know when.”

With that, she gathered her precious daughter and swept away gracefully.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to someone I hadn’t contacted in ages:

“Can you help me get a certificate?”

The message disappeared into silence. Minutes later, a reply came slowly:

“Meet me at the Provincial Registry Office in thirty minutes. Don’t stand me up.”

Appointment made, I resumed packing.

I didn’t have much—mostly things Brandon had given me, including an album filled with memories from high school to college.

I left the album and everything else behind, taking only a few sets of clothes.

At the garage, I loaded my bags into the trunk, started the engine, and prepared to leave.

That’s when the maid, carrying a white puppy, purposely let it slip from her arms just as I passed.

I slammed on the brakes—but it was too late.

The maid screamed, “Ah! Omar! Omar, no!”

I rushed out, heart pounding, and saw the puppy crushed beneath my tires—dead in a brutal instant.

“My Omar...”

At that moment, Brandon returned, holding the engagement ring, accompanied by Marilyn.

Without waiting for the car to stop, Marilyn jumped out, tears streaming down her face.

“Omar! How could this happen? My Omar...”

Omar was Marilyn’s dog. With her parents abroad, Judith had allowed Marilyn to live at the Parrish family estate.

The servant pointed accusingly at me. “It was her—Miss Robinson. She ran over Omar!”

Marilyn bit her trembling lip, shooting me a venomous look before collapsing into Brandon’s arms, sobbing:

“Brandon, Omar has been with me for seven years. When you were away, it was the only thing that kept me going. More than family... and now Anna has taken him from me. It hurts so much.”

Brandon’s eyes flickered coldly between the lifeless dog and me—so full of fury it could kill.