In the whirlwind of my life, an unimaginable fortune came crashing down when my husband won a staggering 100 million dollars in the lottery. The euphoria of his newfound wealth quickly transformed into a cruel betrayal. Without a second thought, he divorced me and married my best friend, the woman who had been my confidante, my sister in all but blood.

My best friend, once a pillar of support, now stood before me with tears streaming down her face, her pleas for forgiveness echoing in the hollow space between us. Her remorse, however, felt like a mere formality as she had already sealed my fate. The betrayal cut deep, leaving me stranded in a sea of despair, sinking further into an abyss of misery and loss.

The tragic irony of fate twisted further when my best friend's daughter was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a cruel twist of fate that demanded a kidney transplant. My ex-husband, who had once promised to cherish our family, acted with chilling decisiveness. He took my daughter's kidney—her precious gift of life—without hesitation or remorse. The surgery was a harrowing failure and my daughter succumbed to a severe infection, her vibrant spirit extinguished far too soon.

As my former best friend and her family ascended to the heights of opulence and happiness, basking in the luxury that had once been my life, I was left in a shattered state of unwilling acceptance. My heart ached with a bitter mixture of sorrow and resentment as I watched them thrive while I languished in a hollow existence.

But fate had more in store. When I awoke one fateful morning, I found myself transported back to a time before the lottery winnings had altered the course of my life. I was reborn into the past, standing on the precipice of a second chance. The path ahead was uncertain, but with this rare opportunity, I was determined to rewrite my story, to seek justice and reclaim the happiness that had been so cruelly stolen from me.

***

"Eloise, drink your milk."

Jennifer’s voice was as sweet as honey, her hands cradling the glass of milk with a tender grace. Her gentle smile, fair skin and long, smooth black hair gave her an air of delicate elegance. Yet beneath this veneer of vulnerability lay the true face of betrayal—a twisted, demonic joy that had once dragged me to the depths of despair.

I reached out and took the glass, the warm touch of the milk a stark reminder that this was no dream. I was reborn, given a second chance before the lottery had upended my life.

My eyes darted to the clock on the wall. The lottery draw was yet to happen and with it, the chance to set things right. My heart raced with suppressed excitement; this life was an opportunity to exact justice on those who had wronged me and my daughter.

Jennifer and I had shared years of friendship. After her divorce, she’d come to stay with me and over the past decade, she had become a fixture in my home. Each night, she’d bring me a cup of milk she’d meticulously prepared, a gesture that had always seemed endearing.

"Eloise, drink it," she urged, her voice soft and coaxing.

"Jennifer, you should be an actress," I remarked, half-jokingly. Her performance had deceived me for years, making me believe in her innocence.

Jennifer tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her smile unwavering. "Oh, Eloise, don't tease me. I have no talent for such things."

"Auntie Jenn, can you help me with this outfit?" My daughter’s voice interrupted our exchange.

We were in the cloakroom, surrounded by the warmth of the evening. As Jennifer turned to assist my daughter, I seized the opportunity. I exchanged the glass of milk in my hand for the third cup, knowing it held the key to uncovering Jennifer’s true intentions.

Jennifer attended to the details with practiced ease, giving the second cup to my daughter and the third to her own daughter. She played her role flawlessly, always knowing how to ingratiate herself with the household.

Once everyone had their milk, Jennifer left with a sense of contentment, confident that her machinations were secure. The house soon fell into quiet as everyone retired to their rooms.

But sleep eluded me. I rose from my bed and made my way to Jennifer’s daughter’s room. Despite my persistent attempts, the girl remained unresponsive. It dawned on me that Jennifer had spiked the milk with sleeping pills, a realization that explained my untroubled, dreamless slumbers over the years.

Jennifer had always feigned innocence, commenting on how enviable my restful sleep was. But now, her true nature was laid bare.

Through the gap in the curtains, I saw the villa garden. The sounds of laughter floated in the night air, mingling with the clinking of glasses. My husband, Chris, was there and Jennifer was perched on his lap, her arms draped around his neck in an intimate embrace. She sipped from a wine glass, then passed it to Chris with a suggestive kiss.

The sight was a visceral reminder of their betrayal. I lowered the curtains and Jennifer’s voice drifted through, a cruel whisper in the night.

"The yellow-faced woman won’t wake up tonight, Chris. Where should we choose the location?"

"The rooftop," Chris responded, his tone filled with a chilling determination.

The realization struck me with a cold clarity. The roof was where their plans would come to fruition. I had been given a second chance and this time, I would not let them succeed.

Having faced the abyss of both life and death, my heart had hardened into an unyielding fortress. The pain of betrayal, coupled with the loss of my daughter, had steeled my resolve. The memories of their treachery were vivid and raw, but now, with the opportunity of rebirth, I would exact the justice they so richly deserved.

I quietly left the villa, a sense of grim determination guiding my steps as I headed straight for the lottery shop. Each step was a calculated move towards reclaiming my destiny. The numbers that had once been a source of despair now represented my chance for redemption.

The memories of the past life churned like a storm within me. I recalled Chris’s duplicitous nature—how he had concealed every detail, including his daily lottery purchases. The night of his 100 million win was a nightmare that I had lived through once before. Chris and Jennifer, in their vile conspiracy, had arranged for a group of men to invade my bedroom while I slept, subjecting me to grotesque humiliation. Their cruelty knew no bounds.

The following day, Chris confronted me with fabricated evidence of my supposed infidelities, using it as a weapon to accuse me of tarnishing his reputation. His anger was a mask for the deeper betrayal, while Jennifer’s phony tears and pleas for forgiveness only further revealed her duplicity. The divorce was swift and merciless, leaving me homeless and stripped of my rights to my daughter.

Chris and Jennifer’s marriage was the final twist in their cruel plot. A nagging suspicion led me to confront Jennifer, demanding an explanation for her betrayal. Her pleas were laden with deceit as she begged for forgiveness and insisted on a face-to-face meeting. Consumed by anger and a desire for answers, I climbed into her car, oblivious to the trap she had set.

Jennifer drove us to a desolate seaside, where two hulking men awaited our arrival. The sheer strength of their violence was overwhelming; I was no match for them. They overpowered me with brutal efficiency, stripping away my dignity before binding me to heavy rocks. The sea, cold and merciless, awaited me as they threw me into its depths.

In my final moments, Jennifer’s face twisted into a cruel mask of triumph. Her voice echoed with malevolent glee:

"Sister, even if you could defy the heavens, you won't escape the sea."

"After being a dog for ten years, I finally turned the tables! Hahaha."

"I’ve grown tired of seeing your face every day! Bitch! Feed the fish!"

"From now on, your man and your wealth will all be mine! As for your daughter, I’ve imagined countless ways to torment her."

Her words, laced with venom, were the last things I heard before the darkness of the sea enveloped me. My death was a brutal end to a life of suffering. After my demise, Caroline, my beloved daughter, was imprisoned in the basement of the villa. She was deprived of sunlight and human contact, her mental state unraveling in the oppressive isolation.

Jennifer’s daughter, Joana, soon required a kidney transplant. Without a second thought, Chris signed the consent forms, sealing Caroline’s fate. Caroline’s death from a severe infection was met with even greater cruelty; her body was discarded in the wilderness, left to be consumed by wild animals.

The thought of these atrocities filled me with a fierce, uncontainable rage. As I clenched my fists in a futile attempt to contain my fury, the shrill ring of the phone pierced through the haze of my memories.

The villa community was ablaze with scandal. A video had surfaced, capturing a compromising scene on the rooftop of my house. The footage, taken in the dead of night, showed two figures entangled in a passionate embrace, their heated sounds piercing the tranquility of the night. The video had been shared widely and the community group chat was flooded with messages of outrage and gossip.

"Mr. Martin, you and your wife are energetic and physically strong, but you can't be so inconsiderate of your neighbors' feelings," the messages poured in, reflecting a mix of judgment and mockery.

Feeling a sharp sting of humiliation, I took a deep breath and decided to address the situation head-on. I responded in the chat, "Apologies for the disturbance. I understand this has been an unpleasant sight for everyone. I assure you, I will address these issues immediately."

The group fell into a sudden, uncomfortable silence, their chatter abruptly halted as my message lingered in the chat.

With the immediate crisis momentarily managed, I took my leave and headed to the lottery shop. The ticket I purchased was crucial to my plan. As I walked home, my mind replayed the events of the previous night and the days that had led up to this point. Chris and Jennifer’s audacious behavior was a stark contrast to the image of normalcy they projected.

Returning home, I found that Chris and Jennifer had relocated their nocturnal activities to Jennifer’s bedroom. The sounds of their indulgence were a disturbing backdrop to my thoughts. I felt a surge of nausea; their complete disregard for my daughters’ well-being was maddening. The noise was not just an intrusion but a stark reminder of their callousness.

Determined to act, I quietly made my way to Chris’s study. My hands trembled as I attempted to crack the safe’s code. I entered several incorrect passwords, each failure fueling my frustration. In a moment of desperation, I entered Jennifer’s birthday as the code. To my shock, it worked. Inside, I found the ticket that had won Chris the 100 million jackpot. I carefully swapped it with the ticket I had just purchased, ensuring that the numbers were identical but with different dates.

Their revelry continued into the early hours, relentless and unbridled. As dawn approached, I knew I had to confront Chris. The driver had taken our daughters to school, leaving me alone with Chris and Jennifer. I dialed Chris’s number, my voice steady with determination.

"Divorce," I declared, my tone brooking no argument.

"Divorce?" Chris’s voice was thick with disbelief and irritation. "Eloise, are you still half-asleep? This is absurd. How could you possibly manage as a housewife without me?"

His response was laced with condescension and mockery. Jennifer, standing nearby, watched with wide, innocent eyes, her gaze shifting nervously between Chris and me.

"I’m serious," I insisted, my resolve unshakable.

Seeing that I wasn’t joking, Chris’s demeanor shifted to one of seriousness. "Eloise, think this through."

I had no time for further discussion. I reached into my bag and placed a photograph on the table between us. "I’ve thought it through, Chris. Divorce."

The photograph captured a raw and explicit image of Chris and Jennifer engaged in intimate acts from the previous night. Chris’s face darkened instantly, his anger and guilt palpable.

Jennifer’s eyes welled with tears and she raised her hands in a futile attempt to cover her face from the damning evidence. Her innocence was a farce and the reality of her betrayal was laid bare.

Chris’s rage erupted. "Eloise, what are you doing?! You can come up with any reason to divorce me, but using such a sordid method to drag Jennifer’s name through the mud is despicable!"

His anger was a mask for his discomfort and guilt. I stood my ground, resolute and unwavering. The confrontation had begun in earnest and the balance of power was shifting. The wheels of justice were set in motion and I was prepared to see this through to the end.