Killed in Our Home, Reborn to Change Fate

Gabriel stared at me, unnerved, but quickly regained his composure. "Are you in shock or something?"

He reached out to touch my forehead, but I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me."

I walked into the bedroom and locked the door behind me. Gabriel pounded on it, shouting curses, but I ignored him.

That night, I slept in my regular clothes with a pair of scissors tucked under my pillow.

Early the next morning, Gabriel left the apartment. I knew he was going to placate Jasmine and tie up loose ends.

Once I was certain he was gone, I quickly contacted my trusted assistant, Marcus Jones.

"I need you to buy a wireless receiver for hidden cameras. Get the best one available."

Marcus had worked for me for five years and never asked unnecessary questions. He simply replied, "Yes, Ms. Summers."

Half an hour later, we met in a mall restroom. I took the receiver and locked myself in a stall, my fingers flying over the controls.

During the renovation in my past life, I'd been paranoid about workers stealing expensive imported materials. So I'd installed a pinhole camera in the most hidden spot in the villa, inside the central air vent in the living room.

The camera connected to an overseas cloud server and had an independent power supply that could operate for 48 hours even without electricity or internet.

This was a blind spot Gabriel knew nothing about, and it was my only chance to turn things around.

The explosion had damaged nearby cell towers, so the network signal was terrible. I connected the receiver to the cloud server and watched the progress bar crawl forward at an agonizing pace. Every second felt like torture.

Finally, the video loaded. My hands trembled as I clicked on the playback, rewinding to a few hours before the explosion.

In the footage, half an hour after I left the villa, the balcony window opened. Someone climbed in wearing my designer suit, a wig styled exactly like my hair, and sunglasses.

But I recognized that sway in her walk anywhere. It was Jasmine.

She carried the pipe cutter that would later be found in my briefcase and strutted boldly into the kitchen. Then she turned on the cutter and began savagely cutting through the pipes while screaming into the empty room.

"Evelyn, go to hell! I'll blow you sky high, and then you won't be able to compete with me for his attention anymore!

"Why do you get to live in a house this nice? Why does Gabriel have to answer to you? Once you're rotting in prison, this house will be mine! The money will be mine!"

The sound of gas hissing from the severed pipe was clearly audible. Jasmine seemed startled by the force of it and stumbled backward. Then she pulled a cigarette from her pocket, lit it, and took a drag.

She flicked the still-burning cigarette near the leaking pipe. "Go to hell!"

Then, she turned and fled. That was where the video ended.

I stared at the frozen frame, my whole body shaking. That vicious woman had truly intended to level the entire building.

I saved the video and made three backup copies, uploading them to different cloud accounts. With this evidence, Gabriel and Jasmine had nowhere to run.

Even with the proof in hand, I didn't go to the police immediately. Gabriel had connections at the station. If I turned it in now, there was no guarantee he couldn't bury it.

I needed to expose them in front of everyone, where they couldn't wriggle free. Just then, my phone buzzed with a news alert.

"Explosion Suspect's Fiance Holds Press Conference to Apologize on Her Behalf."

I tapped the livestream link.

Gabriel sat at a table on a small stage, wearing a black suit with a white boutonniere pinned to his lapel, his face a mask of grief. Patricia sat beside him, along with Jasmine, playing the role of a concerned neighbor. The audience was packed with reporters and relatives of the deceased family.

A banner stretched across the back wall.

"Justice for the victims. Make her pay."