Reborn for Revenge: My Husband Is Mine

Savannah Nichols opened the door and stepped into the dark room, reaching out to flip the switch. Instantly, the room lit up.

She lifted her eyes toward the old, worn-out bed and curled her lips into a cruel smile.

On the bed, Sigourney Nichols lay writhing in agony and pain.

She kept struggling to break free from the two shackles tightly clamping her wrists, but with her current frail strength, it was utterly impossible.

Her eyes, filled with resentment, glared at her younger sister as if she wanted to devour her alive.

She never imagined that the person she loved most, the one closest to her, would be the very one to bring her to this wretched state.

Savannah closed the door and slowly approached the bed. She reached out, pulled away the cloth gagging Sigourney's mouth, then calmly dragged a chair nearby and sat down.

"Cough... A..." Sigourney coughed violently, choked with rage.

Savannah placed a glass cup on the bedside table, then gripped Sigourney's chin firmly, lifting it up.

"Sister, why don't you know how to stay in your place?"

Despite her dire situation, despite her utter helplessness to resist, Sigourney steadied herself and responded coldly:

"You bitch! I don't have a sister like you!"

Her eyes welled up, turning red, but she forced herself not to shed tears.

Because only now, too late, did she finally realise-the sweet, affectionate little sister who always clung to her, the one she trusted completely-this was her true face. And in return for that trust, this was the outcome she received?

That all-too-familiar innocent smile once again appeared on Savannah's deceitful face.

"I've been taking such good care of you for a whole month, yet every day you keep cursing me like this?"

Good care? What a joke. Sigourney let out a derisive chuckle and turned her face away.

After deceiving her into getting a divorce, Savannah orchestrated Sigourney's supposed "death" and imprisoned her here.

Of course, by now, no one knew she was still alive. Over a month had passed-surely, her grave was covered in green grass by now.

Every day, she received Savannah's so-called "care"-meals even dogs wouldn't touch.

Various dishes, ranging from raw meat to rotting flesh, from vegetables left out for two or three nights until they became slimy and reeked of a putrid stench.

That was what Sigourney had been forced to eat for the past month.

And that wasn't all.

Her delicate body was now covered in bruises and wounds, black and blue patches marring her skin.

The bed she lay on was electrically charged-so with every meal, she had to endure an extra "dessert" of bone-deep convulsions.

Escape was impossible. Even suicide was out of the question. The only thing she could do was grit her teeth and endure.

This would end. It had to end.

But the ending awaiting Sigourney would be more wretched than any miserable fate she could have imagined.

And her "dear little sister" had never once let her go hungry. How... very "thoughtful" of her.

Savannah reached for the glass on the table, gently swirling it so that whatever was inside could dissolve more quickly.

"Today, you won't be under my care anymore. Are you sad, sister?"

Sigourney froze. She had already guessed what Savannah intended to do, and she struggled even harder.

"You can't do this... Aren't you afraid of retribution?"

"Haaa... If I were afraid, then by now, you'd be happily living with your husband. Oh, wait-no. He's about to become my husband. Should I thank you for being so stupid?"

Yesterday, Sigourney had been forced to agree to Savannah's demand. That was the reason she had suffered through over a month of torture, teetering between life and death.

She had to sign over all her inheritance rights to Savannah. Of course, she refused at first-hence her current miserable state.

But just yesterday, she had no choice but to yield to save her mother.

All the suffering she had endured over the past month had been in vain.

Sigourney and Savannah were half-sisters. Savannah was the daughter of their father's concubine, so the inheritance she received after their father's passing was nothing compared to even one per cent of what Sigourney owned.

Savannah pulled out a pre-prepared document from the drawer. It was fully written out, only missing one thing-Sigourney's signature.

One of the shackles was unlocked. Sigourney clenched the pen tightly, hesitating, unwilling to sign.

"Look here."

Seeing Sigourney's hesitation, Savannah turned on a video call and held the phone up before her.

A heart-wrenching scream echoed through the room.

Sigourney thrashed wildly and screamed in panic:

"Mom!! You beast, let my mother go!"

"If you don't sign, I'm afraid she won't live much longer."

Without hesitation, Sigourney quickly scrawled her signature. Savannah picked up the document, scanning it with satisfaction before smirking.

Then she lifted the phone, and her truly sinister voice finally rang out:

"Kill her."

The call ended in a split second.

Sigourney's entire body jolted. She went mad with rage.

"You lied to me! I'll kill you!"

"If the mother is dead, then the daughter shouldn't be alive either. Don't you think?"

With that, Savannah poured the glass of liquid into Sigourney's mouth, gripping her jaw tightly so not a single drop of poison could spill out.

After a final agonizing struggle, Sigourney's hands slowly went limp.

Certain that she was dead, Savannah turned away and walked out, but not without a final glance.

After all, her sister had always treated her well.

If there was anything to blame, just blame Sigourney always had been luckier than her.

"Goodbye."

Sigourney shifted slightly, then slowly opened her eyes.

Her gaze swept over the intricate carvings on the ceiling before she shut her eyes again, wanting to drift back to sleep.

But suddenly, she sensed something was wrong.

She jolted upright, eyes wide in shock as she took in her surroundings.

She was in a luxurious space filled with expensive furnishings.

What caught her attention first was the familiar crystal bedside lamp, then the television, the heater, and the elegantly arranged furniture, all in harmonious colors.

This was a scene she knew well. But she was still in disbelief.

"Isn't this... my room?"

This was the bridal chamber she had shared with her husband, Theodore Wang.

But why was she here?

Hadn't she just been poisoned to death?

Panic surged through Sigourney as she threw off the covers and rushed into the bathroom.

She froze in front of the mirror, stunned by her reflection.

A youthful, delicate face.

Silky, lustrous hair.

Fair, flawless skin.

A petite yet breathtakingly alluring figure.

How was this possible?

She knew exactly how ravaged she had become after more than a month of torment.

Sigourney clutched her head, utterly lost as she stared blankly at the mirror.

Suddenly, a knock came from outside.

"Madam, breakfast is ready."

She opened the door, and standing before her was Aunt Miller-the woman who had always cared for her during her marriage to Theodore.

Sigourney stood frozen, her eyes starting to mist over.

"Madam... are you alright?"

Sigourney snapped out of her daze. Looking at Aunt Miller standing there, so vivid, so real...

"I understand. You go down first."

"Yes, madam."

Sigourney slowly stepped into the room and reached out to silence the blaring alarm on her phone.

She pressed it off, but the moment her eyes landed on the date displayed at the top of the screen, she was utterly stunned. This was six months ago!

"Could it be... Could it really be... that I'm still alive? Have I truly been reborn?"

Sigourney would live her life over again, one more time.

This was not a dream. She had returned to six months ago-when she was at her most beautiful, most radiant, and had the strongest pillar of support in her husband.

A faint smile curled on Sigourney's lips as she gazed thoughtfully out the window.

This time, she would make them pay. Every ounce of suffering she endured in her past life-she would reclaim it all, with interest. A hundred, a thousand times over.

At that moment, memories of her married life resurfaced. By this point in time, they had been married for over half a year, yet the number of times she had demanded a divorce was beyond counting.

Throwing things, climbing onto the balcony, pulling every trick in the book just to push Theodore to his breaking point and make him divorce her.

And every single one of those tactics had been orchestrated by her dearest younger sister.

Yet Theodore never wavered. He silently accepted everything, and after each of her outbursts, he would bring medicine to treat her wounds. But she would heartlessly throw it all away.

Looking back now, she realized how gentle he had been, how much he had cared for her-no matter how unreasonable she had been.

Sigourney stood up and glanced around. Though this was their bridal chamber, Theodore had never once spent the night here. Every time he set foot inside, she would fly into a rage.

So, in the end, he moved into his workroom to sleep, just to give her peace of mind.

Perhaps the first thing she should do in this life was open her heart and accept him.

The one person who had the power to protect, shield, and care for her.

Sigourney rose to her feet and stepped outside.

Let's go find him in the study.

The study door creaked open as Sigourney stepped inside.

Every single document was meticulously arranged, the furnishings sparse yet elegant.

Her gaze fell upon Theodore, fast asleep at his desk. He had probably worked late into the night and drifted off in exhaustion.

Theodore was the eldest son of the Wang family. Though his family was obscenely wealthy, he had refused to inherit their fortune and instead built his own empire from scratch.

Now, he owned a corporation that rivaled the Wang family's in power and influence. But sooner or later, that vast fortune would still end up in his hands.

The sky had almost fully brightened, with streaks of golden sunlight filtering through the blinds, casting a soft glow on Theodore's devastatingly handsome face.

The sharp angles of his features became even more pronounced, from his eyes to his lips-his entire being was simply a masterpiece.

Sigourney's face flushed red as she stared at the striking man before her. How had she never realized before just how breathtakingly handsome her husband was?

How foolish she had been to keep demanding a divorce.

The morning light grew brighter, causing Theodore to stir. As he blinked awake, his eyes landed on Sigourney standing beside him.

His brows knitted together slightly as he took in her flustered expression. Then, in his usual cold tone, he asked:

"You're looking for me?"

Sigourney jolted, nodding quickly before lowering her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. Her hands clenched tightly, unsure of how to start the conversation.

Theodore let out a soft sigh, frowning as he reached out to lift her delicate chin with his fingers. His voice was laced with irritation.

"If this is about the divorce again, forget it."

Sigourney saw the unwavering resolve in his gaze.

He wasn't even giving her a chance to speak, shutting down the idea from the very start to make her abandon the thought.

But divorce was something Sigourney would never consider again. She couldn't repeat the same mistakes of her past life, couldn't endure that agony all over again.

She shook her head firmly.

"No, it's not that."

Surprised by her response, Theodore's expression shifted into one of mild confusion.

The fact that she had voluntarily sought him out today was already unusual. But even more so, it wasn't about that exhausting divorce talk.

Then what did she want? Was this another one of her schemes?

After six months of marriage, Theodore had long learned that whenever Sigourney acted out of the ordinary, something was bound to happen.

"Then what is it?"

His voice carried a sharp chill, filled with suspicion. He was ready to stop her the moment she said anything unreasonable.

"This evening... will you come home for dinner? I want to cook something for you."

Dinner? What trick was she playing now? In all the time they had been married, not once had she willingly sat down for a meal with him.

Aunt Miller would always bring her meals up to her room, or she would only come down to eat when Theodore wasn't home.

Yet today, she invited him to dinner-one that she would cook.

Had she taken the wrong medicine or something?

Sigourney watched his unreadable expression and anxiously clenched the fabric of her nightgown.

Her sudden change must have caught him off guard even before he could process it.

Seeing no response from Theodore, Sigourney mustered her courage and pleaded, though she couldn't hide the slight tremble in her voice.

"Is... is that okay?"

"Dinner with me? You cooking?"

Theodore repeated her words as if to make sure he had heard correctly.

Was she really asking him to eat with her? Or was there some ulterior motive?

"Uh... yes."

So he hadn't misheard. But his suspicion only deepened.

Without responding, he picked up his coat and walked toward the bathroom, completely ignoring her invitation.

Sigourney stood frozen, watching him go. Memories of all the things she had said and done to him before flooded her mind, and even she was shocked by the stark contrast to now.

Ten minutes later, Theodore emerged from the bathroom, scanning the room.

Sigourney was no longer there. Had she given up on whatever game she was playing?

He fastened a sleek black Swiss watch onto his wrist, grabbed his briefcase, and stepped out of the room.

As Theodore approached the dining table, he instinctively noticed Sigourney just as she sat down.

She looked up, and the sight before she made her heart skip a beat.

Theodore dressed in a simple yet perfectly tailored brown suit, was mesmerizing.

His perfectly proportioned physique, his flawless face-he was simply breathtaking.

For a few seconds, Sigourney found herself completely dazed.

But Theodore met her gaze with his usual icy indifference.

On reflex, he turned to leave, expecting her to lash out if he sat down to eat with her.

But before he could take another step, she abruptly stood up and ran over, grabbing onto his elbow.

"Eat breakfast with me before you go."

"...I can?"

What was this sudden display of affection? Didn't she despise him?

Why was she acting so strangely today?

"Come on, sit down."

Sigourney pulled him to sit at the table before running back to take her own seat. Theodore was still in shock, putting down his chopsticks.

"What exactly are you trying to do? I've told you countless times that I will never divorce you, so stop whatever trick you're planning."

"No, I don't want a divorce. From now on, I won't ask for a divorce anymore. Not at all."

He looked into her sincere eyes and gave a slight nod.

"That's good."

Sigourney could tell from Theodore's tone that he still didn't believe she was serious.

Of course, how could he possibly accept a completely different person in such a short time? It had to be gradual-no need to rush.

After finishing their meal, Theodore set his chopsticks down and watched Sigourney take the last bite of her bread before softly reminding her:

"I'm going to the company. Don't cause trouble at home."

Sigourney nodded rapidly, looking like an obedient little puppy.

As Theodore was about to step out the front door, Sigourney suddenly remembered something. She ran after him and grabbed his sleeve.

"So this evening... will you come home for the meal I cook?"

He turned back to look at her, initially planning to ignore her and leave, but she held onto his sleeve so tightly that he couldn't take another step.

Sigourney's eyes were shimmering with anticipation, awaiting his answer, frozen in place.

Theodore patted her hands that were clutching onto him.

"All right."

Only after hearing his answer did Sigourney slowly loosen her grip.

Theodore turned and walked toward the car, leaving without looking back.

So gentle, so considerate, yet still maintaining that icy, expressionless face.

Just a few minutes after Theodore left, the doorbell rang. The Twilight villa wasn't a place where just anyone could come and go. Even members of the Wang family were only guests there.

As for outsiders, they could forget about even stepping one foot inside.

There was only one person who could visit frequently-someone who could even stay over whenever she pleased.

And that person was Savannah, Sigourney's beloved younger sister. The privilege of coming and going freely was something Sigourney had personally granted her.

Theodore despised strangers in his house, and he utterly loathed this fake woman.

He had long seen through Savannah's intentions-she was after him. That was why she clung to Sigourney, using her as an excuse to visit frequently and throw herself at him.

But to Theodore, even sparing her a glance was a waste.

It was only because of Sigourney's wishes that he begrudgingly allowed Savannah into his home.

Savannah wore an ultra-short dress that barely covered half of her thighs, with a plunging neckline revealing her full, ample chest. She must have thought Theodore was still home to have put in such an effort.

Little did she know, in his eyes, she looked like a dancer fresh out of a bar. Such an eyesore.

Sigourney watched her leisurely step into the front door, recalling the dark days of suffering she had endured in her past life.

Her gaze burned with murderous intent, as if she wanted to tear Savannah apart and devour her on the spot.

Savannah shivered under her intense stare, but she quickly put on her usual sweet and affectionate act as she ran over.

"What's wrong, sis? That expression-did you argue with Theodore again? If only I had convinced Mom and Dad from the start not to let you marry him, things would have been so much better."