Chapter 1

On the night Lucas Wright proposes to me, I take off with the ten grand his family broke their backs to pool together.

In my previous life, I marry him with a heart full of happiness. However, in our second year of marriage, I'm diagnosed with cancer. From then on, he runs himself ragged, wasting away the best years of his life. In this life, I watch him fall apart, and I vanish from his world without ever looking back.

…

Seven years later, I work as a wedding planner. Right after I bring another dream wedding to a perfect close, Lucas suddenly appears in front of me. The woman walking arm in arm with him is Selene Beaumont, the daughter of a real estate magnate who has always had a crush on him in my previous life.

Lucas sizes me up before sneering, "I heard you're working yourself to the bone these days just to make a living. Is this the life you chose after taking off with my money? If you get on your knees and beg me, I'll let you plan my wedding.

"How about it? I know how much you love money. Don't worry, I'll make sure my offer is worth your while."

Picking up on the mockery in his words, I calmly wipe away the blood from the corner of my mouth and part my lips slightly. "Sure. How does 45 grand sound?"

With 45 grand, I can at least afford a nicer burial plot for myself.

Chapter 1

Beatrice's POV

"45 grand," Lucas Wright sneered. "Do you really think you're worth that much?"

Ignoring the ache swelling in my chest, I crumpled the bloodied tissue in my fist and looked up at him. "Yes, Mr. Wright. I think your wedding is worth that much."

This time around, without me holding him back, he had already risen to the top of the industry through his exceptional talent for architectural design and his sharp business acumen. Hence, 45 grand was nothing to him.

Lucas froze for a fraction of a second, his eyes flaring with anger. Without warning, he grabbed my wrist. "You really haven't changed, have you? You're still as calculating as ever."

Excruciating pain shot through the needle-riddled skin of my wrist, and I couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath. I wrenched my hand from his grip and said, "Mr. Wright, if you don't think I'm up to the task, you're free to hire someone else. However, please keep your hands to yourself in public."

The moment those words rolled off my tongue, he stared at me in disgust. "You're a wedding planner who ran off with my engagement gift on the eve of your own wedding. Who in their right mind would hire you?"

He dredged up our history with a single sentence. Even though seven long years had passed, his voice was still laced with raw, unsuppressed animosity. After all, I was the one who had betrayed him.

A lump formed in my throat, yet I plastered a professional smile on my face. I acted as if nothing was wrong and held out my business card with both hands. "That's all right. If you ever need my services in the future, feel free to contact me."

Lucas fell silent, his brow furrowed and his jawline tight. I knew that look all too well.

In my previous life, every time my chemotherapy results came back bad, he would step out of the doctor's office with that exact look on his face. However, as soon as he reached my bedside, his expression would change. He'd flash me a smile and reassure me, "It's okay. We'll figure something out."

At the time, I was suffering from stomach cancer, yet my heart was the one that hurt the most.

In my final moments, I'd sworn countless times that in this life, the next, and all the lives that followed, I would never let him wear that look again. Now, it was time to keep my word.

Silence stretched between us, but he still refused to take my business card. Enduring the agonizing pain churning in my stomach, I was about to excuse myself and leave when Selene Beaumont broke the silence, a smile on her lips. "Lucas, is this your ex-fiancée?"

Her gaze leisurely swept over me as if she was looking at a poorly crafted trinket. Then, she scoffed. "Isn't she just asking for 45 grand? Let's just give it to her. After all, you can make that back in just a few days.

She continued, addressing me, "These days, none of the gifts he gives me are worth less than 150 grand. Too bad you didn't realize what a catch you had, Ms. Cross. Back then, you ruthlessly abandoned him. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be reduced to scheming over such a small amount of money now."

Chapter 2

Beatrice's POV

Selene's words hit Lucas right where it hurt. He immediately snapped out of his daze and looked at me with disgust.

He then turned and planted a kiss on Selene's forehead. His eyes were filled with tender affection as he said, "Thank goodness she was so heartless back then, or I never would've met you. Don't forget to make a list of the new handbags you like and send it to my secretary. I'll pay for them."

Hearing him accuse me to my face, the grievance I'd bottled up within me made me want to burst into tears. Yet, the very next second, I felt relieved. This was precisely what I'd wanted.

In my previous life, during our second year of marriage, I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. Without the slightest hesitation, Lucas sold our matrimonial home, borrowed money from everyone he could ask, and took me to all the best hospitals across the country.

Every day, he'd run around consulting specialists with my test results and CT scans. Every evening, he'd curl up on the hard plastic chairs in the hospital hallway for fitful naps.

He had been a promising architectural designer whose blueprints had earned praise from renowned figures in the industry. However, during those years, he worked relentlessly day and night until the hand he drew those masterworks with began to tremble from chronic sleep deprivation.

Still, his earnings were a drop in the ocean against the overwhelming cost of my cancer treatment.

Because he refused to switch me to the cheapest, low-quality generic medication, he took on whatever odd jobs he could find. He hauled cargo, worked as a designated driver, and delivered food late into the night just to scrape together enough for my next chemotherapy session.

By the time I breathed my last, he'd been reduced to skin and bones. At only 30 years old, he looked like a man in his 50s.

Now that I'd been given a second chance at life, I chose to play the villain. Even if he hated me, I was unwilling to let him sacrifice his entire life for someone destined to die all over again. After all, what I owed him was far more than just 45 grand.

…

When I snapped back to reality, Selene had already dragged Lucas away.

My phone buzzed inside my pocket. It was a text message from the hospital. "Ms. Cross, the targeted medication you reserved has arrived. Please pick it up as soon as possible."

I slid the phone back into my pocket and buried my face in my knees, quietly feeling the dull ache in my stomach. At the very least, before I left Earth, I got to see him one last time.

…

Early the next morning, I was stirred awake by the ringing of my phone.

When I picked it up, Selene's languid and arrogant voice came through. "Ms. Cross, I noticed how much you love money, so I specially asked Lucas to let you plan our wedding."

I stiffened for a moment before forcing a professional tone. "Thank you, Ms. Beaumont."

"If you really want to thank me, make sure the proposal meets my standards," she replied, her voice laced with amusement.

After hanging up, I counted down the days on my fingers. The doctor had told me that I had, at most, three months left in this world.

Three months was enough time to plan a grand wedding. It was also enough time for me to watch with my own eyes as Lucas asked for another woman's hand in marriage.

…

What did it feel like to plan a wedding for the love of your life and another woman? I knew the answer now.

It hurt more than the cancer that had tormented me for seven years. It was the kind of agony that made life feel worse than death.

Still, I suppressed the pain in my heart and executed every detail according to her wishes.

With one word from Lucas, I spent the entire day visiting seven flower shops in search of the rare hydrangeas he had specifically requested. Then, I spent another five hours digging through the warehouse to find the perfect ribbon color combination.

However, he didn't even spare it a glance. He only sent me a voice message. "My bad. My fiancée doesn't like it anymore. Change it to something else."

At 1:00 am, I was hunched over the desk in my rental apartment, adjusting the lighting parameters. A dull ache throbbed in my stomach, so I swallowed a painkiller and continued refining the color scheme.

On the third day, he threw my initial proposal back at me without even finishing it. On the fourth and fifth day… my proposal was rejected seven times.

My planning assistant grumbled, "He's doing this on purpose, Beatrice."

I didn't say a word.

On the morning of the sixth day, while printing out the latest version of my proposal, my vision suddenly went black. Pressing a tissue to my lips, I waited for the dizzy spell to pass before picking up the thick proposal document and making my way to Lucas' company.

Chapter 3

Beatrice's POV

Lucas sat across from me with his arm around Selene in the conference room. His expression was cold and grim as he stared at me silently.

I sat down, opened the proposal, and walked through it page by page, from the lighting to the agenda to the music to the decorations.

When I reached the table arrangements, I pointed at the design rendering and explained, "For the centerpiece, I chose gardenias with eucalyptus leaves to create a clean and refreshing look."

The moment my words fell, Lucas' fingers twitched. I pretended not to notice and lowered my gaze, continuing my presentation.

Gardenias were Lucas' favorite flower. In my previous life, a massive bouquet of gardenias sat at the center of every table at our wedding.

"I want gardenias at every major milestone of my life," he'd told me. So I'd instinctively included them in my proposal.

Selene suddenly slammed her fist against the table. "Gardenias? Who uses such a cheap and unsophisticated flower? Do you have any taste at all?"

Pointing at me, she shrieked, "Or are you doing this on purpose, so Lucas and I don't get our dream wedding?"

Swallowing the metallic tang of blood rising in my throat, I tried to explain, "Of course not, Ms. Cross!"

However, she didn't give me a chance to explain myself. She grabbed the thick proposal document from the table and hurled it at me. The hard cover struck my temple. Everything went dark, and my body tumbled backward.

Right before I lost consciousness, I noticed the cold, indifferent expression on Lucas's face crack.

…

When I came to, the first thing that came into view was a stark white ceiling and the familiar smell of disinfectant. I peeled my eyes open and found Lucas looming over me.

The moment he realized I was awake, his furious voice boomed. "Beatrice, you're still as despicable as ever. Are you trying to stage an accident and extort me right before my wedding? You disgust me!"

Without saying a word, I forced myself up, catching a faint hint of his crisp, woody cologne. Thank goodness. It wasn't the stench that clung to him in my previous life—a stale mix of sweat and harsh hospital disinfectant.

I closed my eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Mr. Wright, considering your fiancée injured me, rather than insulting me, you'd better figure out how much compensation you're going to give me."

Lucas slammed the door shut as he stormed out. Three minutes later, 15 grand had been deposited into my account.

…

It started to rain when I was on my way home. I lived in a partitioned room of an old apartment building in the old district.

The lights in the hallway had been out for ages. I felt my way up the stairs, running my hand along the wall. Then, I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

After taking a short breather, I walked over to my bed and lifted the wooden frame. Underneath it sat an old-fashioned, rusted safe. It took me three attempts with the combination to finally get it unlocked.

There was nothing but a debit card inside. It was the ten grand Lucas had given me as our wedding gift.

Seven years had passed since. In all these seven years, it never even crossed my mind to spend his money.

When I first moved into a rental and couldn't afford the security deposit, I didn't touch it. When the insurance reimbursement for my targeted medication after chemotherapy fell short, I still didn't touch it.

There was even a time when I had to call an ambulance in the middle of the night, and I was 800 dollars short on the deposit. I stood outside the emergency room for 40 minutes, yet I still refused to touch his money.

I was terrified that if I died unexpectedly one day, I wouldn't have been able to replace the funds.

Clutching the debit card, I turned it over and over again to look at it. Fortunately, I would be able to return it to him soon.

Just then, my phone rang. The caller ID read Lucas. So, I answered it.

"Come to my bachelor party tonight."

I went rigid for a moment. "There's no reason for me to go, is there?"

"You're responsible for overseeing the entire wedding plan!" he snapped. "The party is part of the plan too. If you don't show up, you won't get a single cent of the final payment!"

I chuckled dryly. "Fine."

After hanging up, I collapsed onto the bed, drained of all strength. That was when I noticed the water stain on the ceiling.

It had appeared last month. Now, it had expanded into a huge, dark blotch, resembling a gray flower.

I wasn't sure if there would be real flowers at my grave. Oh well, it didn't matter.

…

The party was held at an exclusive private club. When I walked in, the lighting was so dim that I could barely see where I was going.

Chapter 4

Beatrice's POV

I spotted Lucas and Selene in the crowd. The couple was seated in the innermost booth, surrounded by a group of people.

As soon as Selene noticed me, she smiled and said, "Ms. Cross, you made it! If I hadn't taken a closer look, I would've thought you were one of the waitresses."

The moment the words left her mouth, a burst of laughter erupted around the room.

Lucas raised his hand to silence them before pushing a drink toward me. "It's an unspoken rule that anyone who arrives late must down three shots as punishment."

It was whiskey, at least 40% alcohol. Even a single sip would've been too much for me.

It was as if someone had suddenly hit the mute button, plunging the entire room into total silence in an instant.

Everyone turned to look at me. Then came a wave of mockery.

"I heard she's Mr. Wright's ex-fiancée—the one who ran off with his money."

"Serves her right!"

"Look at the pathetic state she's in now. She definitely crawled back to beg Mr. Wright for help."

"Without a doubt. What a shameless gold digger!"

Lucas lounged on the couch without even lifting his gaze.

Amid the chaos, someone poured red wine over my head. Next thing I knew, wine poured in from all directions. The dark red liquid ran down my body, soaking my clothes through in seconds.

Clearly, these sycophants were attempting to score points with Lucas by venting his anger on his behalf.

Glasses shattered on the floor, and a flying shard sliced open my calf. Blood immediately gushed out.

Yet, I didn't seem to feel the pain. I stood rooted to the spot.

Looking at me, the coldness in Lucas' eyes became more intense. "Don't you love money, Beatrice? Down a shot, and I'll give you a grand."

After hearing that, I forced a smile onto my lips. "I hope you're a man of your word, Mr. Wright."

His brow furrowed.

Before he could answer, I picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp. "That's one down."

The harsh liquor burned its way down my throat, feeling as though I had swallowed a blade. My stomach immediately churned, but I clenched my teeth and forced myself to swallow the metallic tang that rose in my throat.

The crowd began to chant and cheer. "Nice! Have another glass!"

When the second glass was pushed toward me, I drank that one too. My stomach felt as if it was going to explode. Cold sweat broke out across my back, and a sharp ringing filled my ears.

"Here's another one." Selene handed me another glass.

I had no idea how I managed to finish the third glass. By the time I set the glass down, my hand was trembling uncontrollably, but I refused to let myself throw up.

My stomach had gone completely numb from the pain, and the taste of iron in my mouth turned increasingly thick.

I quietly wiped away a smear of red spilling from the corner of my lips. The lighting was too dim, so no one noticed.

Lucas couldn't take it anymore. He charged over, grabbed me by the shoulders, and bellowed at me, "Beatrice, will you actually die without money?"

Looking into his bloodshot eyes, I nodded. "You're right. Without money, I'll die."

He shoved me away. "Fine. In that case, drink it all. I'll let you drink until you've had your fill!"

He gestured for a waiter to bring over a dozen bottles of top-shelf red wine, uncorking them one by one. "So long as you finish all of these bottles, I'll give you a million dollars."

A faint smile touched my lips as I grabbed the first bottle and began chugging it down. The bitter liquid flooded my mouth, and my body instinctively gagged. I forced myself to swallow the wine despite the discomfort before moving on to the next bottle.

Everyone watched me with mocking smiles. Lucas' expression was the only one that was growing increasingly dark and somber.

I lost count of which bottle I was on when he finally reached his breaking point. He snatched the bottle right out of my hand and yelled, "That's enough!"

However, my body was done. It gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. The taste of iron flooded my mouth as I began throwing up mouthful after mouthful of blood.

Before my eyes closed, I heard someone in the crowd scream, "It's blood! She's coughing up blood!"