# I deliberately smashed the glass doors of a shopping mall and turned myself in to the police. My wife, furious, stormed in after me, yelling, “Why would you turn yourself in? This is something we could’ve fixed with money!” I shrugged, raising my hands as the officers cuffed me and led me into custody. Why? Because in my last life, her so-called soulmate—her childhood friend—came crawling back to her after his business failed. He staged a car accident, killed someone, and pinned the blame on me. All for the sake of stealing my multi-million-dollar fortune. What followed was a nightmare. The victim’s family and the media hounded me relentlessly, convinced I was the one behind the crime. Every piece of evidence—every surveillance video—showed my face. Even my wife insisted I’d done it, claiming I acted out of revenge and an unhinged desire to lash out at the world. In the end, I was stabbed to death by the victim’s family in front of a crowd. And then, I woke up. I was back on the day her soulmate staged the accident.
“Zach Sullivan, why are you doing this? It’s just money—we can pay for the damages! Why are you turning yourself in? Are you insane?” My wife, Hannah, was rushing toward me, her face flushed with anger. I simply raised my hands as the officer cuffed me. “Hannah, when you make a mistake, you own up to it. I caused damage and scared a lot of people. I need to reflect on my actions.” Hannah immediately pulled out a wad of cash, thrusting it toward the officer. “We have money—take it! Just don’t arrest my husband!” The officer frowned, clearly unimpressed. “Ma’am, mistakes have consequences. He’s coming with us.” “Take him away.” Hannah trembled with rage, but no matter how much she begged or argued, I stuck to my decision—I was going to take responsibility. Because of my “good attitude,” I was only sentenced to seven days in custody for reflection. Seven days where I couldn’t leave the detention center. Seven days of freedom from her. And for the first time in a long time, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. In my last life, my wife had a “true love” named Liam Reed—her childhood sweetheart, the one she never quite let go of. The moment Liam showed up in town, it was like her heart was pulled in his direction. She was never home, always disappearing to meet him. One night, after another fight, I finally snapped. “If you go see Liam one more time, we’re done. I’ll file for divorce.” She didn’t even hesitate. She slammed the door and didn’t come home that night. The next day, Liam caused a catastrophe. Driving recklessly, he hit and killed a woman—an eight-months-pregnant woman. It was a horrific accident. I begged him to turn himself in, to take responsibility and compensate the victim’s family. But Liam just smirked. “Who said I did it? It wasn’t me—it was you.” At first, I thought it was some kind of sick joke. But when I checked the car’s dashcam footage and nearby surveillance cameras, all of them showed my face. I was framed. No one believed me—not even my wife. She told everyone that I’d become unhinged because of our failing marriage and decided to take my anger out on the world. The media ran wild with the story, painting me as a monster. I tried desperately to defend myself, but when the victim’s family finally found me, their grief turned into rage. One of them stabbed me on the spot. As I lay bleeding to death, I couldn’t understand why this was happening. Why had Liam gone to such lengths to destroy me? This time, I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. I’d already taken the first step—putting myself in custody, far away from Liam’s schemes.
Seven days later, I walked out of the detention center. Breathing in the cool morning air under the soft glow of the rising sun, I felt a rare sense of relief. This time, I had spent the entire seven days locked up, completely avoiding any of the disasters from my past life—or so I thought. I had barely taken a few steps when someone grabbed my arm, their eyes bloodshot, and began shouting at the top of their lungs. “It’s him! This bastard killed my pregnant daughter!” A crowd of reporters, who had clearly been waiting outside, rushed forward. Microphones and cameras were shoved in my face as questions flew from every direction. “Zach Sullivan, are you here to confess to the hit-and-run?” “Why did you kill an innocent pregnant woman?” Photographers snapped pictures relentlessly, the flashing lights blinding me. Passersby on the street heard the commotion and started gathering. Once they recognized me, they began whispering, their voices sharp and accusing. “Isn’t he the guy from the news? The one who ran over that pregnant lady and fled?” “Yeah, that’s him! What a monster—he killed two lives in one blow!” “People like him don’t deserve to live!” I stood there, eyebrows furrowed, my mind racing. What the hell was going on? I had been in detention for the past seven days—how could this possibly involve me? “You’ve got it all wrong!” I shouted. “There’s no way I’d run over a pregnant woman!” But the victim’s father, still gripping my arm, grew even more furious. His face twisted with rage, and if I hadn’t been stronger, his fists might have already landed on me. One of the reporters shoved their phone in my face, showing me a video. My heart sank. My pupils dilated as the footage played. It was dashcam footage. In it, I was behind the wheel, grinning maniacally. The car sped up, heading straight for a pregnant woman on the sidewalk. I watched as the car hit her, sending her flying. In the video, my face was clear as day. My voice rang out, exaggerated and mocking, filled with cruel amusement: “Oops, sorry! Guess today’s just not your lucky day!” Then, the video showed my wife, Hannah, rushing over and yanking me out of the driver’s seat. “Zach Sullivan! What the hell are you doing? How could you do something so reckless?” The footage continued. In it, I shoved Hannah roughly to the ground, got back in the car, and drove off. The video ended there. My face darkened as I processed what I had just seen. This was exactly what had happened in my past life. But I had been in the detention center for seven days. How could this have happened again? “You still think you can explain this away?” The victim’s father was trembling with rage, veins bulging on his forehead. My arm began to ache under his grip. The crowd around us was growing more hostile by the second, their anger palpable. “It’s him! There’s no doubt about it!” “What kind of monster runs over a pregnant woman and then drives off laughing?” “I heard he didn’t just hit her—he reversed and ran over her several more times!” “Yeah, they said she might’ve survived the first hit, but after that, there was no chance. This guy deserves to rot in hell!” Sweat dripped down my forehead as I tried to explain. “I’ve been in detention for the past seven days! How could I have done this?” The victim’s father lunged at me, his head slamming into mine. “The man in the video is clearly you! If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?” I stumbled back, my forehead throbbing in pain. “It’s Liam Reed!” I shouted desperately. “He’s my wife’s so-called soulmate. He’s the one who did it, not me—he’s framing me!” Before I could say more, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. “Zach Sullivan, enough already! Do you really think hiding in the detention center would solve anything?” Hannah was standing in front of me, her expression livid. I glared at her, disbelief coursing through me. Before I could respond, a sharp pain shot through my back. I stumbled forward—someone had kicked me hard in the waist. I turned around to see him: Liam Reed. “Zach, how much longer are you going to keep lying?” Liam sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
“It wasn’t me! Why would I confess to something I didn’t do?” I gritted my teeth, suppressing the pain, and shouted with all my strength. Hannah, my wife, slapped me hard across the face. “Zach Sullivan, what have you become?” she snapped. “If you’ve done something wrong, own up to it! What are you, a child? Stop trying to dodge responsibility!” I swallowed my rising anger and tried to explain again. “I told you—it wasn’t me! The fact that you’re so desperate to frame me shows you’re hiding something!” Liam Reed, standing smugly nearby, delivered another vicious kick to my side. “Zach, the evidence is overwhelming, and you’re still denying it?” he sneered. “People like you don’t deserve fair trials. You should just be executed on the spot!” His words struck a nerve with the reporters, who immediately turned their cameras toward him. Liam’s righteous performance was exactly what they wanted to hear—someone condemning me, a supposed monster who ran over a pregnant woman, killing her and her unborn child. The crowd erupted. “Execute him right here!” “Why waste time with a trial? He deserves to rot in hell for what he’s done!” “Do you know how many lives he destroyed? Two lives gone in an instant!” As the mob grew angrier, a man with bloodshot eyes suddenly pushed his way through the crowd. In his hand was a knife. The sight of the blade sent shivers through the crowd. People stepped back cautiously, unsure of what he might do. The man’s voice cracked with rage as he pointed the knife at me. “Zach Sullivan, you bastard! Give me back my wife! Give me back my child!” This was the husband of the pregnant woman who had been killed. The man who had been eagerly awaiting the birth of his child, only to lose everything in one horrific moment. Now, he had only one thought in his mind: an eye for an eye. He raised the knife high, ready to plunge it into my chest. I was pinned to the ground, powerless to move. Cold sweat dripped down my face as my mind raced. Was this how it would end—again? I had been given a second chance at life, but was I doomed to meet the same fate? I clenched my fists, struggling with everything I had, but it was no use. Just as I was about to give up, a baton swung through the air, knocking the knife out of the man’s hand. A young police officer stepped in, shouting, “What the hell are you all doing? Everyone, step back!” Hannah and Liam immediately took a step back, clearly startled. But the victim’s family wasn’t ready to let go. They tackled me to the ground again, their grief and fury reaching a boiling point. “Officer, save me!” I shouted desperately. Hannah sighed dramatically and muttered, “Zach, even the police are here now. Just confess already.” From behind her, Liam chimed in, his voice filled with false indignation. “That’s right! The police wouldn’t be here if you weren’t guilty. Stop lying!” The officer frowned and turned to me. “What’s going on here, Zach? You just got out of detention. How are you already involved in something like this?” The victim’s husband screamed, his voice raw with grief. “It’s him! He killed my wife and child! Two lives, gone in an instant! Please, officer, we need justice!” The crowd roared in agreement, their anger building again. “He’s a monster! He deserves the death penalty!” “Yeah! He drove over her again and again—how could anyone do that?” The officer’s expression darkened. “Hold on,” he said firmly. “Yesterday? Zach has been in custody for the past seven days. There’s no way he could’ve done this.” The crowd fell silent for a moment, stunned by the revelation. “What? That’s impossible!” the victim’s husband stammered. Liam’s face twitched slightly, and he quickly ducked into the crowd, raising his voice in a shrill tone to redirect their anger. “Officer, are you seriously trying to cover for a murderer?” he shouted. Hannah immediately caught on, her voice sharp and cutting. “That’s right! I’m his wife, and I can testify that Zach is guilty! Are you seriously going to let him get away with this?” The crowd surged forward again, emboldened by her words. Cameras and microphones turned toward the officer, capturing his every move. The officer hesitated, frowning as he took a small step back. Hannah’s voice grew louder, more piercing. “Officer, don’t tell me you’ve been bribed by Zach Sullivan! He’s rich—he thinks he can do whatever he wants!” The crowd’s anger reached a fever pitch. The victim’s family pinned me to the ground, their hands trembling with rage. It felt like they would tear me apart at any moment. The officer’s face hardened. “That’s enough! We don’t take bribes. If you don’t believe me, you can come to the station and check the records yourself!” Hearing this, the crowd began to waver. For a moment, the chaos seemed to subside. But then, Hannah and Liam exchanged a glance. Hannah suddenly shouted, “We have more evidence!” My heart sank. With a triumphant gleam in her eyes, she stepped forward, glaring at me. “Zach, you thought you could bribe the police and get away with it? Think again! Look who we brought here!” She stepped aside, and an elderly man slowly walked out from behind her. He approached me, his expression stern and filled with righteous fury. Pointing a trembling finger at me, he declared loudly, “It’s him! He’s the one who killed that poor woman and her child!” I froze, my mind reeling. “Dad?” I whispered in disbelief.
I stared at my dad in disbelief, my entire body trembling as my breathing became shallow and rapid. How could this be happening? Why was my dad pointing his finger at me? Did he really see something? But I’d spent the past seven days in detention. I hadn’t done anything! No, it couldn’t be—it was impossible! What the hell was going on? The crowd erupted again. “That’s Zach Sullivan’s dad?” “Even his own father is stepping forward to accuse him! He’s definitely guilty! What else is there to say?” The bystanders became even more agitated, their voices growing louder and more hostile. “Zach, stop pretending! You selfish, heartless bastard, how much longer are you going to keep up this act?” Hannah shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. I yelled back at the top of my lungs, “I didn’t do it! Why should I confess to a crime I didn’t commit?” A thought suddenly struck me. “That’s right—I’ve been in the detention center for the past seven days! I want the surveillance footage! It’ll prove my innocence!” I turned to the officer behind me, who looked just as confused as I felt. He knew I’d been in custody for the last week. But now, with the crowd so certain of my guilt, with the video evidence and my father’s testimony, doubt clouded his expression. As the crowd grew more unruly, the officer quickly pulled out his phone and made a call. “I’ve sent someone to retrieve the footage. Everyone, calm down!” The officer’s reassurances did little to quell the mob, but after a few tense minutes, another officer arrived with the surveillance tapes from the detention center. If the previous video had been fabricated, the detention center’s cameras couldn’t be faked. I glanced at Hannah and Liam. I had intentionally stayed in detention for this very reason—I’d been waiting for this moment. Let’s see how they explain themselves now. Hannah’s expression faltered, a flicker of unease crossing her face. Liam, who had been loudly shouting moments ago, suddenly furrowed his brow. The officer inserted the footage and began fast-forwarding through it. Sure enough, the video clearly showed me inside the detention center, behaving just as I should. “Now what do you have to say, Hannah?” I demanded, my voice rising with anger. Hannah hesitated, unable to respond. But Liam suddenly shouted, “Wait! Something’s not right!” He pointed at a section of the footage. “Look! That person leaving the detention center… doesn’t that look like Zach?” The grainy footage showed a figure in a yellow coat walking out of the detention center. Though the image was blurry, the coat was identical to the one I’d been wearing when I was detained. I froze. Hannah’s lips curled into a triumphant smile. “Zach, are you seriously going to deny that’s you? You must’ve bribed someone to let you out! You left to commit the crime and then snuck back in—didn’t you?” Her words sent the crowd into another frenzy, and they turned their attention to the officers. “What’s going on here? You said you weren’t covering for him, so who’s that in the footage?” The officer, visibly flustered, glanced at me. He remembered my yellow coat—it was hard to forget. I’d chosen it specifically because it stood out. I stared at the screen, my scalp tingling as a cold chill ran down my spine. “That’s not me,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ve been here the entire time! It’s impossible for me to have left, even for a second!” Hannah, sensing the shift in momentum, doubled down. “Zach, you’re a disgusting excuse for a human being. You killed a pregnant woman and her child, and now you’re trying to worm your way out of it?” Liam, emboldened by the crowd, screeched, “Yeah! You’re a piece of trash who thinks money can solve everything. You deserve to burn for this!” The victim’s family, already overwhelmed with grief and anger, had reached their breaking point. One of them quietly picked up the knife that had fallen to the ground earlier. His eyes burned with hatred as he stared at me. If the officers so much as blinked, I knew he’d plunge that knife straight into my chest. “Damn it, it really is him! What’s the point of all this talking? He’s guilty!” “He must’ve bribed one of the guards to let him out for a few hours. He committed the crime and then snuck back in like nothing happened!” The victim’s husband, knife in hand, pushed past the officers protecting me. “Give me back my wife and child, you bastard!” he roared, lunging toward me. Another family member followed close behind, their fury blinding them to reason. I was frozen in place, panic surging through me. There was no way to escape. But then, just as I thought it was all over, a voice rang out behind me. “Stop right there! I can prove Zach Sullivan is innocent!” Hearing those words, I finally exhaled, relief washing over me. The person I’d been waiting for had arrived.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295549”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #魔幻Magic
Leave a Reply