My Mortal Enemy Regrets It!

After arranging my parents' ashes, I needed to make money to bring Paul back. I had graduated from film school without any connections or fame, relying on a mentor’s recommendation to land a few theater roles.

Theater work didn’t pay much, but it was the best way to hone my acting skills. I worked tirelessly every day, memorizing lines and perfecting every detail. My mentor said I was lucky and hardworking, which led to an opportunity in film.

That bit of luck continued when the movie was released. Even though I wasn’t the lead, I became the most talked-about actress, achieving fame comparable to Bella, the top TV star at the time.

With fame came controversy. Photos surfaced of me and Bella entering Alexander’s residence on the same day—the epicenter of power in Summerville. The internet buzzed with speculation about who was Alexander’s real girlfriend and who was the mistress.

There could only be one official girlfriend, leaving the other as the mistress. Alexander publicly acknowledged Bella as his only girlfriend, making me the latter.

The rumors tainted all my hard work. Despite having no boyfriend and avoiding social events, I became one of the most controversial figures in the industry.

The harsh online comments damaged my reputation, affecting my awards and national successes. Bella offered me a high-paying role in a travel reality show that Alexander was investing in, with the condition that I play a nasty character.

I knew accepting the role would be a setup to showcase Bella. But the paycheck was tempting—it was enough to buy back the Louis family’s old mansion.

To ensure Bella wasn’t deceiving me, I went directly to Alexander to confirm he would indeed sell me the house. He agreed, which eased my mind. I threw myself into the show, playing the cruel character with enthusiasm, making Bella look like the innocent victim, and gaining numerous fans as the nation’s purest beauty.

Meanwhile, I faced even more controversy and criticism. No matter how hard I tried, the negativity persisted, but that was secondary. What mattered was that they promised to transfer the mansion to me, and I was satisfied!

On the day of the transfer, I knelt before my parents' ashes, so excited I couldn’t sleep. The next morning, I carefully packed the urn I’d made and drove to the Louis family’s old mansion.

The place where I had grown up, filled with generations of family memories, was also one of my parents’ last regrets. Everything seemed the same as before, except for the new butler and staff.

I was led to the living room. On the sofa, Alexander and Bella were lost in a passionate kiss, while the butler turned away, not daring to interrupt.

Even though they had promised to transfer the house to me, I couldn’t shake the fear they might change their minds. I stayed calm, patiently waiting until they finished.

Alexander, with his unpredictable temper, was especially volatile around me. He finally pulled away from Bella, glared at me coldly, and ripped up the mansion transfer contract.

Then he said that baffling phrase again: “Mollie, you really don’t know what’s good for you.”

Realizing Alexander had played me once more, I gave a self-deprecating laugh, swearing never to trust such a scoundrel again, and fled.

As I left, a heavy rain began to fall. The mansion was a distance from the parking area, and the butler, who looked about my age and might have a daughter like me, offered me an umbrella.

I took it, feeling a bit of warmth amidst the cold wind and rain.

“Give the umbrella back. She doesn’t deserve it,” Alexander ordered. Despite having taken everything from me, he remained petty, quibbling over small matters with someone like me, who had already been defeated.

The umbrella was withdrawn. I wrapped the small urn tightly in my clothes and walked away without looking back.

Back home, I came down with a fever that lasted three days and nights. Fortunately, Linda returned with Paul and took me to the hospital.

After that incident, I kept a close watch on Alexander, waiting for the right moment to take him down.

When we met again, it was because Paul’s news had leaked.

“Moll, you can hit me or yell at me all you want, but just don’t stay silent.”

“Moll, do you want to go home? I’ll transfer the house to your name immediately.”

“Moll.” Alexander’s face was despondent, his voice hoarse, and he seemed utterly humble.

It was the second time I had seen him like this.