His Last Regret, My New Life

The grand hall of the Thompson estate. The scent of expensive flowers and a decade of my family' s fading name. Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, was the offering, a supposed "lucky charm" to merge our dying empire with the titans of the Thompson Corporation.

But the truth was, I was just a broodmare, chosen to birth their legacy, just like in my first life.

The memory wasn' t a dream; it was a brand etched into my soul. The cold concrete floor, the smell of dust and ozone. I was tied to a chair, my body weak from giving birth to my three children.

Across the room, David, the man I was forced to marry, stood over three small, still forms on a steel table. "The offerings are ready," a scientist said, his voice flat. "The biological processors will give the AI an unparalleled learning curve."

Biological processors. Offerings. No.

I screamed, a ragged sound. "David, no! Please, not our children!"

He grabbed my hair, back. "Our children? You manipulative witch! You tricked my mother into making me have these... abominations with you!" He gestured to a photo: Olivia Reed, "My Love." "You ruined everything! She was pregnant with my true heir! But you and your cursed luck forced my hand."

He forced a bitter liquid down my throat. My world went black.

And then, I woke up.

Back in the Thompson' s grand hall, the scent of flowers choking me. Mrs. Thompson held my hand. David stood beside her, his eyes holding the same cold hatred.

We were back. The day of our forced engagement.

Before the nightmare could begin again, I pulled my hand from Mrs. Thompson' s grasp. My voice small, unsteady, I said, "Mrs. Thompson... I can' t accept."

This time, he wanted Olivia. He believed her child was his key to power. I would hand him the shovel and watch him dig his own grave.

The air in the grand hall of the Thompson estate was thick with the scent of expensive flowers and quiet desperation. For a decade, MillerTech, my family's company, had been a ghost haunting the tech industry, a once-shining star that had faded into a black hole of debt and failed projects. The Thompsons, our rivals, were titans, and tonight, I was the offering meant to join our dying name to their powerful one.

They called me a lucky charm. That' s what Mrs. Thompson, the family matriarch, whispered to anyone who would listen. Sarah Miller, the unassuming software engineer, the quiet girl who could supposedly turn their fortunes supernova. The truth was, I was just a woman they had chosen, a broodmare for their legacy.

My first life proved that.

The memory was not a dream, it was a brand etched into my soul. It played out behind my eyes, sharp and brutal.

The cold concrete floor of the abandoned server farm pressed against my cheek. The smell of dust and ozone was overpowering. I was tied to a chair, my body still weak from giving birth to my three children, my babies.

Across the room, David, the man I had been forced to marry, stood over three small, still forms on a steel table. He didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the lead scientist of his new AI project.

"The offerings are ready," the scientist said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "The biological processors will give the AI an unparalleled learning curve."

My heart stopped. Biological processors. Offerings. No.

I screamed, a raw, ragged sound that tore my throat apart. "David, no! Please, not our children! Not the babies!"

He finally turned to look at me, his face a mask of cold fury. He walked over and grabbed my hair, yanking my head back.

"Our children?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "You manipulative witch! You tricked my mother into forcing this marriage, into making me have these... abominations with you."

He gestured wildly toward a small, framed photo on a nearby console. I could just make out the smiling face of a woman, Olivia Reed. Engraved on the silver frame were the words, "My Love, Olivia."

"You ruined everything!" he roared, his face close to mine. "My life with Olivia! She was pregnant, Sarah! Pregnant with my true heir, the only one who ever mattered! But you and your cursed luck forced my hand."

The pieces fell into place, a decade of cold shoulders, of thinly veiled contempt, of nights spent alone in a vast, empty mansion. It all made sense.

"You and your monstrous children deserve to die!" he spat.

He forced a cup to my lips. The liquid inside was bitter, burning a path down my throat. My body convulsed, a fire spreading through my veins. The last thing I saw was David turning his back on me, walking back toward the steel table as the scientist picked up a scalpel. My world went black.

And then, I woke up.

I was standing in the Thompson's grand hall again, the scent of flowers choking me. Mrs. Thompson was holding my hand, her grip warm and reassuring. David stood beside her, his expression a perfect imitation of polite interest. But I could see it, the same coldness in his eyes, the same deep-seated hatred.

We were back. The day of our forced engagement.

"Sarah, dear, you look a little pale," Mrs. Thompson said, her voice full of concern. "Are you alright? David, see? She's so delicate. We must take good care of her."

David gave a tight, forced smile. "Of course, Mother. I'll take the best care of Sarah."

The lie was so thick I could taste it, more bitter than the poison.

Before he could say another word, before the nightmare could begin again, I pulled my hand from Mrs. Thompson' s grasp and took a step back. I bowed my head, making my voice small and unsteady.

"Mrs. Thompson," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but loud enough for everyone in the sudden silence to hear. "I... I can't accept."

A gasp went through the assembled guests. David' s eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face.

"What are you saying, child?" Mrs. Thompson asked, her smile faltering.

I kept my head down, forcing tears into my eyes. "I am not worthy of the CEO' s son. The Miller family is a shadow of what it once was. To be tied to me... it would only bring Mr. Thompson down. I cannot be a burden to him."

I risked a quick glance up at David. His face was a storm of confusion and suspicion. He thought he had me, his perfect pawn, his stepping stone.

Not this time.

In my last life, I carried the hope of my family and the superstitions of his. I became his wife, gave him his heir, and secured his position as CEO. He rewarded me with death.

This time, he wanted Olivia. He believed her child was his key to power, his true legacy. Fine. I would make sure he got exactly what he deserved. I would hand him the shovel and watch him dig his own grave.

"Sarah, don't be foolish," Mrs. Thompson insisted, stepping forward. "Your family's past is not your present. You have a gift. Everyone knows it. You are a lucky charm. With you by David's side, the Thompson Corporation will reach new heights."

"I'm just a software engineer, ma'am," I murmured, my voice trembling. "A simple girl. I'm not worthy."

I was laying it on thick, playing the part of the meek, insecure girl they all believed me to be. Let them think I was breaking under the pressure. Let them think I was running scared.

My heart was beating a steady, cold rhythm. It wasn't fear. It was the drumbeat of a war that only I knew had already been declared.

David stepped forward, his polite mask cracking to reveal the sneer beneath. He looked down at me, his voice loud and condescending, meant for the entire room to hear.

"Not worthy? You're right about that," he said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. "A daughter from a failed family, a washed-up name. What could you possibly offer the Thompsons?"

The guests murmured, their eyes darting between us. This was a direct insult, a public humiliation. In my past life, I would have shrunk away, my face burning with shame. Now, I simply kept my head bowed, letting his arrogance fill the room.

"Mother," David said, turning to Mrs. Thompson, his voice laced with false concern. "Can't you see? She's trying to manipulate you. Playing hard to get. It' s a pathetic attempt to increase her value."

He was projecting. It was Olivia who was the master manipulator, the one who had played the long game.

"David, that is enough!" Mrs. Thompson' s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. The whispers stopped instantly. "You will not speak to your future fiancée that way. Sarah is our guest, and she is the woman I have chosen for you. Her modesty is a virtue, not a weakness."

She shot him a look that could freeze fire. David' s jaw tightened, but he fell silent. He had misjudged his mother' s resolve. She truly believed in the superstition, in me as her good luck charm. She wanted a grandchild from me, and she would not be easily deterred.

I kept my face lowered, but my mind was racing. I remembered this David. The one obsessed with his public image, so easily provoked, so certain of his own superiority. I also remembered the quiet girl I used to be. The one who genuinely believed she could fix things with code and logic, who thought if she was just good enough, just quiet enough, he might one day see her. That girl was dead, poisoned in an abandoned server farm. The woman standing here now understood that the only logic David respected was power.

Then, something in his posture shifted. A flicker in his eyes as he looked at me, a brief, almost imperceptible moment of recognition mixed with pure hatred. It wasn't just the anger of a man being defied. It was deeper. It was personal. It was the look of a man who remembered.

My blood ran cold.

He knows. He' s reborn, too.

The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. This wasn't just me against his memory. This was a battle of two lifetimes, a direct confrontation. He wasn't just repeating his past cruelty; he was actively choosing it again, but this time with the full knowledge of what was to come.

Before I could process this horrifying new reality, David smiled. It was a slow, triumphant smile that didn't reach his cold eyes.

"Mother, perhaps you're right," he said smoothly, his tone changing completely. "Perhaps I was too hasty. But I have something to confess. There's a reason I've been... hesitant about this arrangement."

He turned toward the edge of the crowd, his voice ringing with theatrical importance.

"Olivia, my love. Please, come here."

The crowd parted. Olivia Reed stepped forward, her hand resting delicately on her stomach. She looked fragile, beautiful, and completely out of place. She moved to David's side, and he wrapped a protective arm around her.

He looked directly at his mother, then at me, his eyes gleaming with victory.

"Mother," David announced, his voice booming in the silent hall. "Olivia is pregnant. With my child. My true heir."