My Husband’s Fall Became My Ultimate Revenge After Rebirth

With their calculated mother-and-son collaboration, my life ended in the detention center on the seventh day after Noreen’s supposed death, a demise as humiliating as it was undeserved.

During the trial, Archer’s cutting words sealed my fate, each one sharper than the last:

“Anyone could have saved Raden. Why did it have to be me?”

“Noreen died because of you. You deserve to rot in hell and serve her as a slave for eternity!”

“I want you to live in torment, unable to find peace, not in this life or the next!”

Yet, less than a month after my death, the truth unraveled in the cruelest twist. Noreen reappeared, alive and thriving. She claimed she had been rescued by a world-renowned medical team that not only restored her ability to walk but also cured her of her depression.

She wept tears of joy as she married Archer, the two basking in their newfound happiness while squandering the wealth I had painstakingly built.

No one cared to remember the one lying cold and forgotten in the cemetery: me.

Against all odds, I was given a second chance, a chance to rewrite the story I had thought was over.

“What are you standing there for? Move it!”

Her voice thundered through the room as my mother-in-law hurled her coffee cup at my feet. The shattering porcelain sent shards skidding across the floor, and the hot liquid soaked the hem of my dress, snapping me back to the moment.

But this time, I wasn’t the panicked woman from before. It was her precious son courting disaster and her beloved younger son on the verge of ruin. None of it had anything to do with me.

Feigning urgency, I turned to my assistant with brisk instructions. “Go to the hospital and find Archer. Tell him there’s an emergency at home, nothing more. Do not, under any circumstances, mention that Raden has been kidnapped.”

I knew Archer well. If he thought this was another bout of jealousy over him doting on Noreen, he wouldn’t spare a second glance, let alone return. And without his intervention, Raden, the brilliant, polished director, would crumble under the schemes of the so-called “paralyzed” first love.

My mother-in-law, known for her fierce devotion to her sons, looked ready to explode. Before her fury could erupt, I quickly interjected, “His directing career is his lifeline! We need to save him, but under no circumstances can we let the press catch wind of this. If they do, every investor in Raden’s new film will withdraw immediately.”

“Exactly! We must save him, but not at the cost of his future.”

It was then that Elion Finnegan, Raden’s mentor and uncle, arrived at my request. His sharp eyes flicked over me before he grasped my mother-in-law’s arm, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper.

“Aunt, Finnegan Entertainment is finally thriving. If any scandal tarnishes Raden’s name, the entire company will collapse.”

Her anger caught in her throat, unable to break free. In the entertainment world, scandals struck harder than death itself. No matter how much she adored her youngest son, his future as a director couldn’t be sacrificed.

And with Elion, a Cannes jury member, looming over the situation, she knew the stakes. If Raden’s name was ruined, even his uncle wouldn’t step in to save him.

Clenching her teeth and swallowing her rage, she finally nodded, though her reluctance hung heavy in the air.

Just as the assistant was about to leave, my mother-in-law halted him with a raised hand. From her bag, she retrieved a dazzling diamond bracelet, its brilliance catching the light.

“Tell him I’ve had a heart attack. Archer has always cherished this bracelet. If he sees it, he’ll come rushing back.”

I had to give her credit; she knew exactly how to play her cards. Feigning illness and brandishing her prized possession, she intended to guilt-trip Archer into abandoning everything to return. In her mind, she was irreplaceable, the center of her son’s universe.

But this time, her game faced a formidable opponent: Archer’s first love, Noreen. Unlike me, Noreen wasn’t someone easily manipulated or overshadowed.

The battle was set, the doting mother versus the cherished lover. For once, I found myself intrigued. Who would Archer choose? I leaned back, genuinely curious to see how this would unfold.

…

In less than thirty minutes, the assistant stumbled back in, his appearance disheveled and a fresh bruise on his forehead.

Just as I had predicted, he came alone, with no sign of Archer anywhere.

My mother-in-law shot up from the sofa the moment she saw him. I moved to steady her, but she shoved me away with a look of pure disdain.

“Get away, you bringer of bad luck!” she spat.

Then, her voice sharp with panic, she turned to the assistant.

“Where’s Archer?”

Suppressing the slightest smile, I watched as the assistant, visibly shaking, stammered out his answer.

“Y-Young Master… Young Master refuses to come back.”

The words hit her like a slap. She stood frozen, her face twisted in disbelief.