Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My daughter hated me to the bone.

I trained her to become a high-fashion model, yet she accused me of turning her into a trophy for others to gawk at.

When she dated a man decades older, I tried everything to stop her, but she claimed I was just bitter about her finding true love.

After winning gold at the national modeling championship and stepping onto the global stage, she claimed in an interview that I had abused her.

Later, she ended my life and dumped my ashes into a filthy sewer, saying I had it coming.

Reborn into the past, I canceled all her prep classes, dismissed her coaches, and gave her the freedom to date whoever she wanted.

Watching her fall from grace step by step into ruin, I felt nothing.

Now, she finally regrets everything.

...

"Hello, Mrs. Miller. It is time to pay for Lana's next month of coaching fees. The total comes out to twenty-five hundred dollars."

"However, there is something I need to bring to your attention."

"Lana has not been taking her training seriously lately. She is either constantly running to the restroom or making excuses about being too tired. In a single session, she barely trains for half the time."

"The other students mentioned she recently started dating someone, which is why her mind is completely elsewhere."

"There are only five months left until the National High School Modeling Championship. The other contestants are pushing themselves hard every single day. While Lana is naturally gifted, with an attitude like this, she will not be able to keep up with the competition."

"You should probably have a heart-to-heart talk with her. Encourage her to focus on preparing for the contest, or it would be a terrible waste of her talent."

Having just opened my eyes in this second life, I immediately received this call from my daughter's runway coach.

I had received the exact same call in my past life.

Ever since she was a little girl, Lana was stunning and possessed an effortless grace. Becoming a runway model had always been her biggest dream.

I supported her wholeheartedly, enrolling her in top-tier modeling academies.

She learned quickly and excelled naturally, frequently drawing praise from her instructors. I had always been so proud of her.

Now in her senior year of high school, she was five months away from representing her school at the national championship. The winners would receive full-ride scholarships to elite universities, and the top three would even earn opportunities to train abroad.

To secure the brightest future for her, I hired the best private coaches to help her prepare.

For the first two months, she was diligent. But by the third month, her focus had completely shattered.

In my previous life, hearing this news made me frantic. That very evening, I called her into my room to ask about her routine and who she was seeing.

She did not hide a thing. In fact, she bragged boldly that her boyfriend was a wealthy CEO.

The man was forty-six years old, ran a publicly traded company, drove a Rolls-Royce, owned two luxury penthouses downtown, and had millions in the bank.

When she spoke of him, it sounded less like an explanation and more like arrogant gloating.

She even told me that he wanted to be her sugar daddy, offering her ten thousand dollars a month in allowance. On top of that, he promised to make her an online influencer and turn her into an internet goddess.

However, it was not about high fashion; it was about doing provocative, thirst-trap dances on livestreams.

Hearing that made my blood boil.

For years, I had poured everything into her modeling career so she could fulfill her childhood dream of walking international runways. I never intended for her to sell out her dignity for cheap clicks and fast cash.

Besides, our household was financially stable. She never needed to sell herself to get by.

I tried to persuade her to break up with him, patiently explaining the harsh realities of the world. Yet she threw a massive tantrum, dragging her father and grandmother into the mess to curse me for being overbearing and cold-hearted. She even threatened to disown me.

In the end, I swallowed my pride, begged her, and promised to give her three thousand dollars a month in pocket money. Only then did she reluctantly cut ties with that older man.

After five grueling months of intensive training, my daughter lived up to everyone's expectations. She won the gold medal, secured an elite college spot, and earned a contract for an international fashion tour.

I was overjoyed and convinced that my strict intervention had been the right choice.

To celebrate her limitless future, I prepared a lavish feast loaded with all her favorite dishes.

To my utter shock, during her post-championship press interview, she publicly accused me of abusing her.

She claimed I had forced her into modeling just to turn her into a trophy for men to ogle and make money off her body.

She asserted that my broken marriage made me miserable and toxic, causing me to tear her away from her true love out of pure jealousy.

All the blood, sweat, and tears I poured into her upbringing were twisted into something sickening and vile.

Finally, facing the cameras with tears streaming down her face, she asked, "Mom, I fulfilled your selfish dream. Are you satisfied now? I'm an adult, so please stop suffocating me under the guise of maternal love, okay?"

Her words set off a massive firestorm online.

Countless netizens resonated with her claims, instantly rallying behind her as devoted fans.

They projected all their resentment toward their own parents onto me, bombarding my phone and inbox with endless death threats and hate mail.

I was relentlessly cyberbullied, fired from my job, and shunned by my neighbors, which eventually pushed me into severe depression.

While I suffered from crippling migraines and relied on heavy medication just to survive each day, she spent my hard-earned savings partying all night.

Before long, my bank account was completely drained.

When she demanded more money and I had nothing left to give, she dissolved a lethal dose of sleeping pills into my milk, putting me to sleep forever.

On the day of my memorial, she wept uncontrollably, winning the sympathy of millions who praised her as a devoted daughter.

Yet right after the memorial, she carried my urn to an alleyway where no cameras could see. Without hesitation, she dumped my ashes straight into a rancid sewer drain.

Her eyes were cold, venomous, and completely devoid of humanity.

"You old hag, this is your karma! You brought this on yourself! Slicing you into pieces would still be too merciful."

"You never deserved to be my mother."

"A miserable, hideous busybody like you belongs right here, rotting in the gutter forever."

With that, she spat viciously into the sewer and strutted away.

Recalling those moments, my heart turned to ice.

I had skimped and saved, sacrificing everything to raise her on my own. I treated her like the center of my universe, worrying endlessly about her future.

To help her realize her childhood ambition, I even worked three jobs at once just to cover her expensive tuition.

In return, I was rewarded with an agonizing, lonely death.

Perhaps I was the one who was wrong.

From the very start, I should never have expected gratitude from a spoiled viper who inherited all of her father's worst traits.

Since she loathes having me as a mother and despises my guidance, then so be it.

From this moment on, I will grant her absolute freedom.