Chapter 1 Despicable Family

"Aimee Bennett, your sentence is complete. Someone's come to get you." The prison guard's frosty voice rolled through the visiting room, cutting through the stale air like a blade. Aimee's pen faltered, and a fat drop of ink bled across the discharge certificate, spreading into a dark, uneven bloom.

Lifting her gaze, she caught sight of the man waiting beyond cold steel bars - Laurence Bennett, her older brother and the Bennett family's second son.

"Mom and Dad sent me to bring you back," he said, his tone calm but distant. Laurence stood poised in a tailored suit, his polished shoes catching the light, the designer watch on his wrist flashing with an almost clinical chill. "You've had it hard these past three years," he added smoothly. "But the family intends to make it right."

Make it right?

A dry laugh almost slipped from Aimee's throat. Those empty promises were painfully familiar. In her last life, the Bennetts had lured her home with the same gentle words, only to shove her - the real daughter - into prison to shield Rylie Bennett, the fraud who'd stolen her place.

When she walked free years later, no one from the family had even bothered to show up. Instead, Rylie's hired thugs had been waiting to drag her into a nightmare that ended with her death.

And when she was gone, the Bennetts had erased every trace of her existence, refusing to even collect her ashes.

Bitterness had burned in her chest for so long that it had become part of her soul.

Her vengeful spirit had drifted through the world for years before uncovering the cruel truth - there had never been a mistake at birth.

Her parents had deliberately exchanged her for Rylie after a fortune teller claimed that Rylie would bring prosperity, while Aimee herself was labeled a curse. They'd cast her aside like unwanted baggage, sending her off to survive alone in a distant village after she was born.

That bottomless resentment had fueled her rebirth, pulling her back to the third year of her prison sentence.

Armed with every memory of her past life, she quietly forged an alliance with Andreas Reid, a calculating business magnate, and secured her early release.

"Three years back, when you dragged me home to the Bennett family, you swore you'd make things right," Aimee said as she set the pen down with unsettling composure, her voice low and steady. "And what did I get in return? I served time for Rylie's crimes, and do you know how my prison life was? Someone even put shards of glass in my prison food."

A sharp crease formed between Laurence's brows, impatience glinting in his eyes. "Things weren't simple then. Rylie wasn't well enough to survive prison. As a Bennett, you should-"

"Should take the blame for that venomous snake?" Aimee let out a cutting laugh, the sound laced with ice. She tilted her head, meeting his furious stare without blinking. "Laurence, tell me - has the entire Bennett family lost its damn mind? You'd cast aside your own flesh and blood just to protect some outsider?"

"Watch your mouth!" Laurence slammed his palm against the table, the sharp crack echoing through the room. He shot to his feet, veins tightening along his temple. "Aimee, have you completely forgotten your manners? Who gave you the right to talk about Rylie like that?"

Manners? Aimee's lips curved into a bitter smile as a dry, humorless chuckle escaped her throat.

How could a child cast aside by her own parents and raised on scraps of kindness in some forgotten village possibly understand so-called "manners"?

She didn't waste another breath. Scooping up her few possessions - a frayed canvas bag with seams barely holding together - she strode for the door.

"Stop right there!" Laurence's voice cracked like a whip behind her. "If you walk away from the Bennett family, where will you even go?"

Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, Aimee answered, "Somewhere I actually belong."

As the heavy gates swung open, the early summer sun spilled across her face, making her squint against its brightness. Stepping back into freedom after such a long time, she felt like a stranger in a place she used to know.

Just then, a sleek black Maybach glided to a stop in front of her, its polished surface gleaming beneath the sun. The tinted window slid down to reveal an unfamiliar man with a calm, professional expression.

"Miss Bennett, Mr. Reid sent me to pick you up," he said. Stepping out with practiced precision, the driver moved around to open the door with a courteous bow.

Aimee gave a small nod and slid into the plush leather seat without a flicker of hesitation.

Through the rearview mirror, she caught sight of Laurence bursting out of the prison gates. His face froze in disbelief as the luxury car purred away, leaving him standing in its wake.