Rebirth: Fake Heiress, Real Queen

The cold operating table dug painfully into my bones, ropes cutting angry red marks into my wrists and ankles. Every movement sent sharp pain shooting through my body.

My strength had been drained by days of torture. I wanted to break free, but my limbs felt like they were filled with lead.

"Stop struggling," came that familiar voice from above me. "Your kidney is going into Brielle today, and that's final."

My heart trembled as I jerked my head up, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face as I stared at Mitchell Stafford—my husband—standing before me.

I forced myself to ask, "What are you doing here? Why you?"

He let out a cold laugh, looking at me like I was some kind of joke. "Seraphine, you didn't actually believe I had real feelings for you, did you?"

My mind went blank. My lips quivered, unable to form words.

During our first year of marriage, Mitchell had been so good to me. He would cross half the city in the middle of the night just to bring me a dessert I was craving. He'd pick me up from work when it rained. Once when I had a fever, he stayed up all night taking care of me.

But after that first year, his hot-and-cold attitude had always left me confused.

Despite everything, I kept making excuses for him.

He must be under too much pressure at work. He didn't mean it.

But now, hearing Mitchell say these things felt like a slap across my face, instantly snapping me back to reality.

"I don't believe you!" I shook my head violently, my voice tearing from my throat. "Was it all fake? Everything?"

"Seraphine, I don't even know if I should call you naive anymore." Brielle Whitaker, standing nearby, let out a soft laugh, her hand resting lightly on my chest. "If your kidney couldn't save me, do you think Mitchell would have wasted so much time pretending to be deeply in love with you?"

Finally, I closed my eyes, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar, "Is what she's saying true?"

Mitchell's gaze fell on her, his eyes unbearably tender. "How could anything Brielle says be untrue? Besides, you're just a fake heiress—how dare you think you deserve real love? As if you're worthy."

My chest felt like someone had stabbed me, making it impossible to breathe.

At this point, what was left to understand?

They had been conspiring together ever since Brielle was recognized and welcomed back into the Whitaker family.

I hated.

I hated myself completely.

I hated that I had been so blind, believing Mitchell's sweet words and manufactured devotion.

And I hated that I never believed Octavius Capulet.

I still remember the day they took him away. He looked at me through the iron bars, his expression calm, "Seraphine, as long as you're happy, I'll accept whatever happens to me."

Yet I was the one who sent him to prison.

And he never once complained.

Looking back now, Octavius—who always protected me, always waited for me—was the one who truly loved me.

How could I have been so stupid as not to see the difference?

Mitchell leaned down, roughly grabbing my chin, his smile arrogant. "I forgot to tell you—I was never the person you remember. That photo you two considered your love token wasn't even mine."

My body froze, pupils constricting. "What do you mean?"

Brielle laughed triumphantly. "You don't know? Mitchell stole that photo while Octavius was unconscious from his injuries."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow, seemingly reminiscing. "He was so badly hurt, but still clutching it like his life depended on it. I thought it must be something important, but it was just a crappy photo of the ocean. Still, it proved quite useful."

My mind exploded.

No wonder.

No wonder Mitchell looked so different from my memories. No wonder Octavius always looked at me with such pain in his eyes, such reluctance to let go.

All this time, I'd loved the wrong person, while the one who truly loved me was pushed into the abyss by my own hands.

I didn't know whether to call myself ridiculous or pathetic anymore.

If only I had asked one more question, investigated a little more—how different things might have been.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, closing my eyes as tears slid from my temples into my hair.

"Mr. Stafford, it's time for the transplant. We can begin now."

"Proceed," Mitchell said coldly.

My hands and feet remained restrained as I lay there like a broken doll, devoid of any life.

After the surgery, he took Brielle's hand and prepared to leave without looking back.

I turned my head to see their interlaced fingers and felt nothing. I was beyond pain now.

Mitchell didn't even spare me a glance.

"Secretary, clean this up. I don't want anyone finding out she's still alive."

Just as he finished speaking, a muffled crash came from outside.

Then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

I forced my eyes open to see a familiar figure rushing in.

The man was unshaven, his eye sockets sunken, his entire frame gaunt beyond recognition.

It was Octavius.

He was out of prison?

"Octavius!"

His eyes were red-rimmed as he rushed to my side, his voice trembling, "I'm sorry, Seraphine. I'm too late."

I stared at him, something blocking my throat.

As the head of the Capulet Group, he had once been so powerful and untouchable. Now he had given up his status, his power, everything—all for me.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, struggling to sit up and apologize.

Octavius stared at me like I was the most precious thing in the world, "Seraphine, you don't need to apologize to me."

My nose stung as tears flowed uncontrollably.

Just then, from the corner of my eye, I caught Mitchell secretly reaching for a detonator in the corner.

"Octavius! Run! Get out of here!" I used my last bit of strength to push him away, but he didn't budge.

Instead, Octavius pulled me tightly into his arms, tears in his eyes, "Seraphine, I'm not afraid to die. I won't let you face this alone."

I knew he had suspected a trap, but he came anyway, because he couldn't bear to let me face it by myself.

"You idiot! Go! Now!" I cried out, but I couldn't move him.

He held me tight, refusing to let go.

Slowly, I stopped struggling and hugged him back.

If there was a next life, I wouldn't love the wrong person again. I wouldn't give my heart so carelessly.

If there's a next life...

"Octavius, in our next life, will you let Seraphine find you?"

The moment the words left my lips.

A blinding flash, and the entire building collapsed in a deafening explosion.

I never heard Octavius's answer.