Chapter 1

My husband was the long-lost heir of the Riso mafia family.

In my previous life, my husband Titus Holt's childhood sweetheart, Melissa Gunther, falsely accused me of stealing her family heirloom bracelet. It happened two days before I was set to leave the slums.

Just as I was about to defend myself, Titus forcefully dealt with this matter and led Melissa and me out of the slums and back to the Riso family.

I thought Titus did so because he trusted me, but then I heard Titus tell Melissa, "Noelle may not be honest, but she's Christian's mother. I can't let her bear the reputation of being a thief."

Looking troubled, Christian also commented, "I don't want a thief as a mom. Dad, why did you bring her back? Wouldn't it be better to have Ms. Gunther as my mom?"

I felt a chill run through me. It turned out Titus had not done all this out of trust; he just felt I was too embarrassing. Even my son had hated me his whole life.

In the blink of an eye, I was reborn back to the day Titus suppressed public opinion.

I silently booked a ticket to Swizor. On the day Titus took my son and Melissa back to Napple, I would leave and never see them again.

Chapter 1

The day Titus Holt announced he would take us back with him, I was packing my luggage.

He walked into the room, casually glanced at my luggage, and commented with a frown, "The Riso family is a noble household. They have everything. If you need something, you can buy it when we get back."

My hand paused. The precious items that were fiercely fought over in the slums were now just a pile of junk in the eyes of my husband, who had been reclaimed by a noble family.

However, I had no intention of going back to Napple with him. These were all the belongings I was taking to Swizor. I was about to tell Titus that I would not go back with him, but I was interrupted by Melissa Gunther.

"Titus, I..." Melissa jogged over, her eyes slightly red and her voice choked. "I really... don't know how to thank you. I've suffered so much in these slums. I never thought I would be so lucky to have you take me to such a wonderful place. You've given me a new life!"

She looked up, pretending to just notice my presence and deliberately hiding her hand with a bracelet behind her back. "Noelle, this is the only memento my grandmother left me. I can't give it to you. I'll give you all the money. Please don't take my bracelet anymore!"

Titus immediately interrupted her, "Alright, we can have all the good things when we get back. I'll buy her something better. Don't mention this again."

If I had not experienced my past life, I would have thought this was Titus protecting me. However, I knew he never truly believed me. He suppressed everything only to prevent his son's birth mother from bearing this unpleasant stigma.

I suppressed the bitterness in my heart and looked directly into Titus' eyes, saying, "I didn't steal the bracelet. Do you believe me?"

Titus paused and replied with a gentle expression, "No one blames you. It's all in the past. Let's pretend nothing happened! We're leaving the day after tomorrow. Don't waste your energy on unimportant things."

He did not blame me, but he had never believed me either. I never escaped the stigma of being a thief.

…

When we returned to Riso Manor in my past life, the servants were outwardly respectful, but they all disdainfully called me Madame Thief behind my back.

By the time I found out, the nickname 'Madame Thief' had already spread far and wide.

I sobbed as I asked Titus to clear my name, but he flew into a rage and immediately banished all the gossiping servants from the manor.

His actions did nothing to repair my reputation; instead, they made the elders of the Riso family dissatisfied with me.

I insisted on thoroughly investigating the source of the rumors, but Titus stopped me with a sigh. "Listen to me, Noelle. Now is really not the time to pursue this. I've only just got back and haven't even settled in yet. Many people in the family are watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake."

He paused before adding solemnly, "Making a big fuss over something unclear will only make us seem like we're making a mountain out of a molehill."

I questioned him in disbelief, "Making a mountain out of a molehill? Doesn't my innocence matter at all?"

Titus interrupted me irritably, his tone firm. "Enough, Noelle! I told you that this matter ends here. What's the point of investigating further besides adding to the trouble and implicating innocent people? Please stop causing trouble for the sake of this family's peace, okay? Melissa finally adapted to the environment here; she can't withstand a second wave of trouble!"

Titus' words were like a sharp knife, piercing me deeply. He would rather wrong me than let Melissa, the culprit, be affected in the slightest. Melissa's reputation was more important than my life.

Since I could do it all over again, I decided not to go back with my husband and son. I would go far away and let them have their happily ever after.

Chapter 2

Knowing Titus' attitude, I no longer threw tantrums as I did in my previous life. Instead, I obediently accepted his arrangement because I knew that it would not make any difference, no matter how much I argued.

Titus would just suppress everything.

My silence seemed to please Titus. He softened his tone and cooed to me in a low voice, "Once we move to Napple, I'll buy you whatever you like, even if it means moving an entire luxury boutique into our home. All that matters is that you want it."

Melissa's eyes sparkled as she clung to Titus' arm and wheedled. "Titus, can I have a designer bag too? You know my childhood dream was to have my own bag..."

Titus seemed to recall their childhood memories, and his gaze became even gentler. "I'll always keep one of whatever I have for you. That's the promise I made to you once."

Melissa gave me a challenging look and tugged at Titus, recounting their childhood stories. They had known each other for a longer time than I had. In the past, I often quarreled with Titus over such matters, but not anymore.

Just as I placed my packed backpack on the bed, Titus suddenly called out to me, "Noelle, could you sleep on the couch in the living room for now? Let Melissa have the bedroom. She's just been through a lot. Her emotions are unstable, and she needs a quiet environment to recover... Please bear with it. It'll only be for the next couple of days."

I froze, looking up at him in disbelief.

We were living in the most cramped rental house in the slums. We have only one room with an open space connecting to the bathroom and a small stove. The worn-out single couch was so small you could not even stretch your legs out, yet Titus wanted me to sleep there for two nights.

"Why can't she go back to her own home?"

Even though I had decided to stop fighting for anything, Titus' arrangement was still hard to accept.

His voice turned cold, tinged with barely perceptible irritation. "The car sent by the family broke down on the road, and it'll take 48 hours to get a replacement. If it weren't for this accident, we'd already be sleeping comfortably in the manor. Melissa has already packed up and given up her rented place. Now, she's homeless."

Melissa's eyes welled up with tears as she pretended to be strong. "It's all my fault. Let me sleep on the couch. We can't let Noelle suffer."

She struggled to walk out but deliberately bumped into the doorframe, gasped, and fell backward.

Titus caught her just in time, his eyes filled with deep disappointment as he looked at me. "That's enough, Noelle. Melissa is in poor health, and she's so sensitive right now. Don't trigger her!"

I was about to say something when my son, Christian Holt, ran in excitedly. Seeing Melissa's tear-streaked face, he hesitantly stopped. "Dad, why is Ms. Gunther crying?"

He tilted his head, looking at them curiously and then at me.

Titus said gently to his son, "Ms. Gunther is homeless. How about we let her stay for the night?"

A glimmer of hope rose in my heart.

My son usually loved sleeping with me; he needed bedtime stories to fall asleep. He would definitely object to Titus' arrangement.

Christian's eyes lit up at his father's suggestion, and he clapped his hands excitedly. "Great! I'm sleeping with Ms. Gunther tonight! Ms. Gunther always smells nice, unlike Mom, who always smells like bleach."

My heart shattered at my son's words.

Christian was mischievous and often got covered in dirt from playing outside. I always spent a lot of time washing his clothes, even if my hands were swollen and unsightly from being soaked in bleach.

In the resource-scarce slums, I always tried my best to keep my son clean and presentable. It turned out that my son was still disdainful of me even without the false accusation of theft. In that case, I should let them go.

Chapter 3

Holding all my belongings, I spent the night huddled on the cramped couch. I was woken up by hunger at 5:00 AM. As usual, I went to the narrow kitchen to prepare breakfast for the family.

Just as I had heated the milk, Melissa walked in and took the pot from me. "Noelle, let me help you."

Before I could warn her to be careful of the heat, Melissa let out a cry and threw the pot of milk at my feet. Almost all of the scalding milk splashed on my feet, burning me so badly that I almost fainted.

However, Melissa's cries drowned out my cries of pain. "Ouch! It hurts so much. Noelle, are you still mad at me?"

A few drops of scalding milk splashed onto her hand, causing a faint redness to appear on her fair skin.

Melissa's scream drew Titus over. Seeing the burn on her hand, Titus glared at me furiously. "Noelle, what's wrong with you? You can even hurt others while cooking. Melissa is sensitive; why did you let her touch these?"

The tenants in the rental house yawned and gathered around. Melissa suddenly clutched the back of her hand and cried weakly. "It's not Noelle's fault; I was careless. Maybe she just didn't want me to touch her things..."

Amidst the neighbors' whispers, Titus grimly shielded Melissa and walked out of the rental house.

Before leaving, he only said, "Clean it up, don't get in the way."

Only after they left did my legs give way, and I collapsed to the ground. My instep was badly burned, and the pain was so intense I could not even stand up. However, Titus did not even glance at me. His eyes were only on the faint redness on Melissa's hand.

I numbly cleaned up the mess on the floor, rinsed my burned foot with cold water, and then limped into the bedroom.

Christian was fast asleep, lying sprawled out on the bed. I did not disturb him and endured the pain as I quietly rummaged through the cabinet.

I was looking for a bottle of expired ointment, which should be in the bedside drawer. Instead of the ointment, I discovered an old tin box in the drawer.

Opening it, I found several yellowed slips of paper and a fruit candy wrapper. I opened one of them to find Titus' handwriting. The childish handwriting wrote: [Letter of Guarantee: I will be good to Melissa and share everything with her...]

I quickly remembered what Titus had said yesterday. It turned out he had made this promise to Melissa a long time ago.

Inside the box was a makeshift stamp made from an eraser. It bore crooked words that read out 'Titus & Melissa' in blue ink. Suddenly, I felt breathless. A suffocating pain gripped my chest.

We had been married for eight years. He promised me the best of everything and a custom-made wedding ring just for me, but none of them came true. I did not really care for expensive gifts, but he had never even carved a rubber stamp for me.

There were many other things scattered inside the tin box, but I had no interest in exploring them. This box of memories proved the profound bond between Titus and Melissa. All of this made my existence seem ridiculous.

Without hysteria or a breakdown, I closed the tin box. I simply picked up my backpack calmly, endured the pain in my foot, and left the rental house without looking back.

I went straight to the airport and changed my flight to the next available one to Swizor.

Just before boarding, I received a message from Titus: [You've gone out? That's perfect. Don't come back until the Riso family's car arrives tomorrow. Don't let Melissa see you, or she'll remember those unhappy things. It'll also save people from gossiping.]

Then, he sent another message: [But remember to be back at the rental house at 9:00 AM tomorrow. We'll be leaving on time, so don't be late.]

I stared at the messages on my phone for a long time and did not reply at all. Instead, I took out the SIM card, broke it in half, and threw it in the trash.

Holding my boarding pass, I calmly boarded the flight, leaving Itolia. By the time they returned to Napple the next day, I would no longer be in Itolia.

I would leave behind my life as a socialite, as well as my husband and son, to Melissa. I did not want any of it.

Chapter 4

The next morning, the Riso family's motorcade drove into the slum in a grand procession. Several black luxury cars were parked neatly on the shabby square, out of place with the surrounding decrepit environment.

People nearby rushed out to watch, gathering in groups while they criticized.

The accompanying servants swiftly put away all the items.

Titus stood by the car, occasionally tiptoeing to peer at the distant intersection. He took out his phone and checked it repeatedly. Regret somehow rose in his heart. He wondered if he had gone too far when he asked me not to return to the rental house, and whether I suffered any injustice by spending the whole night outside the slum.

As soon as this thought occurred, Melissa walked over, holding Christian's hand. She said with a grin, "Titus, everything is ready. The butler and the rest are waiting. It's time for us to get in the car."

Titus came to his senses, frowned, and glanced at his phone. "Let's wait a bit more. Noelle hasn't returned yet."

Then, he urgently called my number again, but all he heard was a cold, prompt tone of the call being unanswered. The text messages he sent out were also met with complete silence.

Noticing his increasingly grim expression, Melissa asked softly, "Doesn't Noelle know we're leaving today?"

Titus did not respond. He turned to his staff and instructed, "You guys come with me to look around and see where Mrs. Holt went."

Just as Titus was about to leave, Melissa quickly grabbed his arm.

She bit her lip, her face full of self-reproach as she choked out. "Noelle must be angry with me. She left because of me. It was my fault yesterday. I shouldn't have been so sensitive and said those things."

She paused before continuing with red-rimmed eyes, "How about this? Take Christian and go first. I'll stay and find her. Once I find Noelle, I'll apologize to her properly and come find you together."

Titus was about to speak when she gently tugged at his sleeve, glanced at the butler standing not far away, and muttered, "Titus, look. That butler seems to be in a hurry to leave. You’ve just been brought back into the Riso family. If you keep delaying here, the family will think you're indecisive. It'll give them something to hold against you."

Titus followed her gaze and indeed saw the butler not far away, looking impatient and covering his nose with a handkerchief.

The slight guilt he had felt toward me was instantly replaced by anger. Titus' face turned completely cold. He felt I was deliberately throwing a tantrum.

"You don't need to stay. Noelle's too willful. I have to teach her a lesson this time. Let her stay in the slums and reflect on her actions. I'll send someone to bring her back when she realizes her mistake." His tone was full of anger and impatience.

Once he finished speaking, he bent over to help Christian and Melissa into the luxury car. "Let's go!"

With Titus' command, the motorcade slowly started moving.

Melissa sat in the car, watching the slums recede into the distance, a smug smile on her lips.

Christian leaned against the window, glanced back, and asked timidly, "Dad, are we not going to wait for Mom?"

Titus patted his head, his tone slightly displeased. "Your mother disregarded the bigger picture and has to stay to apologize. We'll go back first."

Melissa immediately interjected softly, "Don't worry, Christian. Your dad will bring her back in a while."

With that said, the three of them looked out at the scenery rushing by, each dreaming of their so-called wonderful lives.