Reincarnated to the Day I Got a Villa

"What... what do you mean?"

Tristan's usual air of confidence wavered for the briefest moment. His brow twitched and there was an unmistakable stiffness in his expression.

Vanessa, on the other hand, scoffed, crossing her arms with an exasperated glare. "Charlie, seriously? You're going to act all high and mighty now that the company's gone public? After everything Tristan's done for you, this is how you repay him? With this ungrateful attitude?"

I glanced at her without a word. The way she clung to self-righteousness was laughable. But now, I couldn't be bothered.

I turned away, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve as I walked past them. "Think whatever you want. I have things to do."

Vanessa's complaints trailed after me, but I let them fade into the background. Right now, I had no interest in wasting my time because there was something far more important at hand.

Before my death, I had seen my attacker's face clearly. It had been Martin Steele—the company's former Chief Financial Officer.

Martin had been convicted and sent to prison after Tristan personally testified against him for embezzling a massive amount of kickbacks. At the time, I had believed Tristan's words. But now, the pieces no longer fit.

If Martin had truly been guilty, why had he come after Tristan the moment he was released? Why was he willing to kill?

I needed to investigate the case from back then. I couldn't let the betrayal and hatred from my previous life go unanswered. But, most of the trails had gone cold, so I had no concrete leads.

That afternoon, as I pored over old documents in my office, my phone buzzed with a message from Vanessa: [I have something to do tonight. I'll be home late.]

I chuckled, shaking my head. She had no idea I hadn't set foot in our home all day. If she were truly concerned about me, she would've known. But of course, she wasn't concerned—because she was too busy spending her nights with Tristan.

A few minutes later, the soft chime of the elevator reached my ears, so I instinctively turned off the office lights.

Footsteps. Two sets. It had to be them.

I remained still, waiting, listening as their voices filtered through the door.

"Vanessa, I've already looked into it," Tristan said in a hushed but eager tone. "That bastard Martin is getting released in three days—at night."

Vanessa's voice was laced with satisfaction. "Perfect timing. The media's been eating up the news of you moving into the mansion. It's all over the trending list."

Tristan let out a soft chuckle. "Exactly. The moment Martin gets out, he'll go straight there for revenge. And with it being dark, he won't be able to tell that Charlie's the one living there instead of me."

My fists clenched at my sides.

"As soon as he attacks," Tristan continued, "the police will shoot him for murder. And just like that, I'll never have to worry about him again. And once Charlie's out of the picture... well, we won't have to hide anymore."

Vanessa let out a small sigh. "It's just a shame... Charlie isn't falling for it. He refused the mansion."

Tristan clicked his tongue in irritation. "That idiot. He's never turned down anything from me before. Why now?"

"Don't worry," Vanessa said soothingly. "I'll find a way to help you."

Tristan's voice dipped into amusement. "He was jealous today. You didn't go home tonight—he didn't suspect anything, did he?"

Vanessa scoffed. "Suspect? Charlie's been a pathetic, lovesick fool from the start. If it weren't for my parents forcing me to marry him, I wouldn't have even looked at him. No matter how much I fool around, he wouldn't dare ask for a divorce."

Tristan laughed lowly. "That's good. But still, just thinking about how that idiot would react if he found out his wife and his best friend have been screwing each other for three years—it's hilarious."

He hummed in amusement before his tone shifted into something more suggestive. "Vanessa, the office is empty at night. And we didn't have enough fun at the hotel earlier. How about here?"

Vanessa's laughter grew breathy. "You're so naughty..."

Then, the unmistakable sounds of hurried movements. The rustling of fabric. The stifled gasps and whispers.

Anger boiled in my veins. Vanessa—the woman I had spent years loving, protecting, cherishing—had never once hesitated to betray me.

She had never truly cared.

I had fought for her, bled for her. I had given up opportunities to stay by her side. When her parents had fallen ill, I had drained my own savings to help them. When she had told me she was afraid of childbirth, I had never once pressured her for children.

And yet, all these years, I had been nothing more than a fool in her eyes.

Through the haze of fury, I forced myself to breathe. Now wasn't the time to act rashly. Tristan was more dangerous than I had ever realized and I needed solid proof—evidence of his crimes. Only then could I bring him down completely.

Silently, I slipped out of the building.

But one thing still didn't make sense.

No matter how bitter someone was about being framed, no matter how much hatred burned inside them—who would risk their life to commit murder the very moment they were released from prison?

Just what exactly had Tristan done to Martin?