Chapter 1

I funded Jenna Rivers for five years, and for five years, I was her most devoted lapdog.

Just when I thought I had finally melted her icy heart and that she was ready to spend the rest of her life with me, I realized the truth.

She had always been in love with her childhood best friend, Hunter Cross, who had been by her side since they were kids.

In her eyes, I was nothing more than a wealthy tyrant who used money to grind her dignity into the dirt.

A few years into our marriage, she secretly drained my bank accounts and transferred all my assets. She even had a child with Hunter.

In the end, I died a miserable death in a roaring fire. As the flames consumed me, I saw the three of them―a happy little family―looking on. I died screaming.

Now that I have been reborn, Hunter is shoving me back with that same look of pure disdain on his face.

"What do you think we are, Bennett? Just toys for you rich pricks to play with?" he spat.

I didn't hesitate. I slid my black card right back into my pocket.

"My bad. Being rich doesn't mean I'm stupid. I'm not interested in toys with such trashy taste anyway."

1

"Bennett Sterling, let me tell you something. We might be broke, but we have pride. What gives you the right to humiliate us like this?"

Hunter shoved me hard, pulling Jenna behind him. His eyes were filled with a sharp, self-righteous fury.

The familiar scene played out again, leaving me momentarily dazed.

Wasn't I supposed to be dead? I remembered the agonizing heat of the fire Jenna and Hunter had planned.

But here I was, back twelve years ago, on the day I insisted on sponsoring Jenna's education.

Jenna stood there in a simple floral dress, a pink ribbon fluttering in the wind like a spring butterfly.

A few stray hairs framed her pale, delicate face, making her look even more like a fragile little flower.

In my past life, I was obsessed with this act of hers. I was a total sucker for the 'strong but poor girl' trope.

We first met at a high-end lounge in downtown Chicago. It was back in high school, and she was working part-time to make ends meet.

Her innocent, student-like aura was exactly what the sleazy old businessmen there craved.

She had been clutching a bottle of wine, her lips trembling and eyes brimming with tears. She looked like a martyr.

"Sweetheart, just finish this bottle, and we'll let you go," one of them had sneered.

"Or better yet, spend the night making us happy, and we'll cover all your living expenses. It's faster money than waitressing, babe."

A bald man reached out to grab her waist. Jenna whimpered about paying for a broken glass, her weakness only fueling their aggression.

I had jumped up back then, smashed a bottle over the guy's head, and chased them off. My dad owned a stake in that club, so they didn't dare fight back.

After that night, I became obsessed with her. Her parents had taken their own lives over gambling debts when she was a freshman, leaving her orphaned.

She was poor but refused charity, only accepting government grants. Yet, she remained at the top of her class at the city's most prestigious prep school.

I thought saving her would bring us closer, but she started avoiding me like the plague.

As the only heir to the Sterling family, I was used to getting whatever I wanted. The more she ran, the harder I chased.

I fell for her supposed resilience and her coldness. I even loved the fear and longing she tried to hide when she looked at me.

I started a relentless pursuit. We were in neighboring classes, and I brought her breakfast every single day.

Of course, she threw every single meal into the trash.

Back then, all the girls were obsessed with high-end designer labels. During breaks, they'd gossip about the latest runway collections.

Jenna would always bite her lip and retreat to her desk, pretending to study.

So, I asked my aunt, a famous fashion designer, to get a custom-made gown from Europe. I presented it to her, buzzing with excitement.

"Jenna, look! I had this custom-designed just for you! You'll look stunning in it!"