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Reborn After Death, Now My Cheating Husband Regretted Everything Novel Cover

Reborn After Death, Now My Cheating Husband Regretted Everything

As the Jourdain family’s counterfeit daughter, Samira Jourdain thought she found true happiness when she wed Jean Zaccaro. For two years, he was the model of a loving, attentive partner. But the illusion shatters when Jean abruptly turns freezing cold. Desperate for answers, Samira follows her husband to an exclusive gathering, only to witness a devastating truth that destroys her heart completely. Can she survive the ultimate betrayal in this modern billionaire romance?
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Chapter 5

After dinner, the living room was filled with laughter and light conversation, but none of it reached Samira.

She sat there, quiet, detached. In the past, she might’ve tried to smile along, pretend to belong. But now, she didn’t see the point. Some things just weren’t meant to be forced.

While they carried on like one big happy family, Samira quietly got up and stepped outside. She didn’t say a word and unsurprisingly, no one even noticed her leave.

She had only been outside for a moment, breathing in the cool air, when Luna’s voice sliced through the silence behind her. “You’re still hanging around the Jourdain Family? Still clinging to Jean? Don’t you have any shame?”

In her past life, Samira had never walked out at this moment, so she had never heard Luna’s true colors like this. She didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything, just stood there, staring ahead.

Luna didn’t stop. “Let me be real with you. Jean only married you to push you out of the inheritance. It wasn’t about love. He sees you as a cruel, heartless monster.”

Samira stood still, her voice calm when she finally responded. “You really think no one sees through your lies? What if they find out—”

“They won’t,” Luna snapped, cutting her off. “You think you can explain your way out of this? Don’t waste your time. Everyone is on my side now. You? You should just crawl back to that sad little town you came from.”

Honestly, Samira didn’t disagree. This house never felt like home. She replied evenly, “Things don’t always go the way you want, Luna.”

That was all it took to push Luna over the edge. With a glare full of rage, she slapped Samira across the face hard. The sound cracked in the stillness. Samira’s cheek flared with pain.

She paused, took a breath. In the past, she would’ve swallowed the hurt and walked away. But not this time. This time, she hit back.

The slap landed with force and Luna stumbled, stunned. Then she launched herself at Samira and the two of them went down in a flurry of fists and hair-pulling. Luna didn’t stand a chance, Samira had her pinned in seconds.

The commotion drew attention. The front door burst open. Her father stormed out, followed by Jean and her mother.

He took one look at them and shouted, “What are you two doing?! Get back inside! Now! Sit down and think about what you’ve done!”

The butler stepped in, separating the two of them and guiding them toward the hall without saying much.

Luna was quick to play the victim. Her face was pale and her eyes filled with tears as she turned to her father. “Dad, don’t be mad, please. I didn’t do anything, Samira started it!”

When he didn’t react, she spun toward her mother, crying harder now. “Mom, you saw it too! I didn’t hit her first!”

Her mother’s face softened immediately. She looked heartbroken, brushing Luna’s hair back like she was still a child. “Honey, you saw it too,” she said to her husband. “Samira hit her. If someone needs to be punished, let it be Samira. Luna was the one who got hurt.”

Samira just stood there, quiet. Her fingers were clenched at her sides, her face still stinging. She wasn’t even surprised anymore, same story, different day.

In the end, they both got dragged away. Her father wasn’t the kind to care much about fairness, he cared about appearances and control.

The two of them knelt in the hall, the silence awkward and heavy. The butler stood to the side, arms crossed, like a chaperone watching over detention.

Then, a few minutes later, Jean showed up. He walked in without a hint of hesitation and said, “I’m taking her.”

The butler blinked. “Sir, I’m sorry, but Mr. Jourdain gave strict orders. Neither of them is allowed to leave tonight. I can’t let you take Miss Samira.”

Jean’s face didn’t change. “I’m not taking Samira. I’m here for Luna. I’ve already talked to Mr. Jourdain. Luna didn’t do anything wrong. She doesn’t deserve to be punished.”

The butler hesitated. “But… Miss Samira’s face was clearly slapped.”

Jean didn’t miss a beat. “And Luna’s not allowed to defend herself? You want her to just stand there and take it?”

That shut the butler up.

Jean walked over to Samira and crouched in front of her. His voice was soft, but it didn’t feel warm. “Samira, I know things got out of hand, but this was on you. No matter what Luna said, you shouldn’t have hit her. Just stay here tonight. I’ll come back for you in the morning.”

Something inside her snapped. She didn’t speak, didn’t even look at him. She just stared straight ahead like he wasn’t even there.

Jean let out a frustrated sigh, muttering under his breath, “So stubborn.”

Her eyelashes trembled, but she kept her head down. The ache in her chest grew heavier, sharp like ice pressing against her ribs. She should’ve expected this. Jean’s version of "trust" was just another lie she let herself believe.

But she kept it all in. No matter how hurt she felt, love that had started when she was young didn’t just vanish overnight. Still, she knew, one day, it would.

Beside her, Jean scooped Luna into his arms and walked away without even glancing back. “Luna, are you okay? Does it hurt? I’m sorry I got here so late…” he murmured, his voice full of concern.

His words grew fainter as they disappeared down the hallway. Before long, the house was silent again.

The butler stood nearby, his eyes quietly following Samira’s still figure. There was a trace of sadness in his expression.

He had watched her grow up in this house. And he knew, this girl wasn’t the cold, cruel person everyone had painted her to be. She was kind. She always had been.

But once the master made up his mind, there was no changing it. The butler knew that better than anyone.

He let out a long breath and walked a little closer. “Miss, you don’t need to sit so straight. It hurts less if you let yourself lean a bit.”

Samira didn’t move. Her posture remained rigid, back straight, chin up. Her voice came out soft but steady. “Thank you.”

That was it. She wasn’t here to explain herself or beg to be seen.

Tonight, she was just quietly paying back the Jourdain Family for the two decades they raised her. Nothing more.

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