When I was five, my mom and I were killed in a car accident. The mastermind behind the accident? My dad—and my mom’s best friend. After collecting two massive insurance payouts, they got married and began their happily-ever-after. Sometimes, that woman would shiver with fear. “What if the dead mother and daughter come back as ghosts to haunt us?” she’d ask. My dad would chuckle and call her superstitious. But what they didn’t know was that I wasn’t dead. And the living me would be far more terrifying than any ghost. It was a stormy night when I was five. I’d eaten a slice of cake from my mom’s best friend, April Frost, and suddenly started vomiting and running a high fever. Panicked, my mom decided to drive me to the hospital herself because the family driver wasn’t home, despite the heavy rain outside. On the most desolate stretch of road, a truck slammed into our car, flipping it over. Two people got out of the truck—a man and a woman. The man was my father. The woman was April Frost. April had been my mom’s best friend since college. After her divorce, she’d claimed she had nowhere to go with her son, so my mom had taken them in. I still remember how April cried back then, clutching my mom’s hands. “Megan, you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” But tonight, April leaned into the wrecked car, her face expressionless, and coldly declared, “Megan’s dead.” My dad, always a coward, stood nearby, pale and muttering to himself, “Dead is good… Only with her dead can we be together…” April was about to agree when something caught her eye. “Wait,” she gasped. “That little brat isn’t in the car!” My dad froze. The two of them peered into the wreckage, searching. Not far away, hidden in the bushes, I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying not to make a sound. Just before she died, my mom had used the last of her strength to push me through the shattered car window. “Josie, run,” she whispered. Now, through the downpour, I could hear my dad’s voice. “She’s just a kid. Maybe we should let her go?” “No way,” April snapped. “We can’t leave loose ends. She’s five—old enough to talk. Do you want her to rat us out?” “Find her. She couldn’t have gone far in her condition.” A flashlight beam swept through the bushes behind me. I crawled forward, desperate to get away. Rain pelted my feverish body like cold, sharp stones. Branches scratched my skin, but I didn’t care. I had only one thought: I had to survive. Because only if I survived could I avenge my mom. I don’t know how far I crawled, but eventually, I reached the edge of a raging river. Behind me, I heard April scream, “There! She went this way! Look at the tracks!” I had no other choice. I threw myself into the water.
The case was quickly closed. A truck driver, exhausted from working long hours, had crashed into Megan and her daughter’s car. Megan died on the spot, while her daughter, Josie, fled the scene in panic and accidentally fell into the river. Because of the heavy rain that night, the river was swollen. Josie’s body was never recovered, and it was assumed she had been swept out to sea. The road’s surveillance cameras had been broken for months. A terminally ill truck driver was paid to take the blame. Four years later, I was officially declared dead. My mom and I had both been insured for enormous sums of money, with my dad as the beneficiary. With two massive payouts, my dad’s failing business suddenly turned around. A stroke of luck (or maybe sheer audacity) propelled him to become one of the wealthiest men in the fictional city of Riverpoint. He married April, and she became the picture-perfect trophy wife, flaunting designer bags, watches, and jewelry on social media. They even had another child, giving her son from her first marriage a sibling. Together, the four of them were the portrait of a happy, thriving family. April, ironically, was deeply religious. She made generous donations to temples every year and collected blessed prayer beads to ward off evil. My dad, on the other hand, loved playing the philanthropist. He often appeared on TV as a “self-made success story” and a role model for aspiring entrepreneurs. Look at them, Mom. You once taught me that bad people always get what they deserve, that karma would take care of them, and that I should always be kind. But I’ve grown up, and I’ve realized that saying is no more real than Santa Claus. If I want revenge, I’ll have to get it myself. And so, twelve years after that car accident—long enough for everyone to forget it ever happened— I came back.
“Hi, everyone. My name is Joanna Sterling.” On my first day at Riverpoint High School, I introduced myself to the class. The window reflected my image: dressed in a school uniform, my long hair tied neatly into a ponytail, my face pale but striking. The only imperfection was a faint scar at the edge of my eyebrow—a souvenir from the car crash twelve years ago. The classroom buzzed with whispers. “She’s so pretty.” “Isn’t she from some orphanage? I heard she’s a straight-A student.” “Oh my god, she’s like one of those tragic but beautiful heroines from a TV show!” “We even have a male lead to match her, right? What do you think, Finn?” The boy they were talking to was sprawled out in the back row, wearing limited-edition sneakers and chewing gum. Tall, handsome, cocky, and dripping with wealth, he was every inch the bad-boy heartthrob straight out of a teen drama. At the mention of his name, Finn Frost lazily glanced up, his gaze sweeping over me briefly before landing on my chest. “Nope,” he said loudly. “Not my type. She’s barely a B-cup.” The entire class burst into laughter. All eyes turned to me, waiting to see how I’d react. Would I blush in embarrassment? Cry? Look helpless? Instead, I calmly walked over to his desk, glanced at his notebook, and read his name written in the corner. “Nice to meet you, Finn Frost. I’m your new seatmate.” I smiled politely and added, “By the way, I have straight A’s in every subject. If you don’t understand something, feel free to ask me.” For a moment, the room went silent. Then the class erupted into cheers and whistles. Finn tilted his head, surprised, and gave me a second look. I stared back at him, my expression calm, though my heart burned with rage. He didn’t recognize me. But I had never forgotten him. Twelve years ago, when he and his mom first moved into our house, he’d thrown a tantrum demanding oranges. My mom had peeled him one, but after one bite, he’d spat the juice all over her shirt. The juice soaked through her thin summer blouse, and Finn had stared at her chest, laughing. So yes, Finn Frost. I’m genuinely glad to meet you again. Because you’re just as awful as you were twelve years ago.
A week into the school year, everyone knew I had a crush on Finn Frost. Plenty of classmates came to warn me about him, recounting story after story of his bad-boy antics. The so-called “Prince of Lakeside”—as everyone jokingly referred to him—was notorious for dating a different girl every month, only to dump them without a second thought. Girls had cried, begged, and even gone so far as to harm themselves over him. Finn, however, never looked back. But I ignored all the warnings. My attention was solely focused on Finn. After basketball practice, he’d come back to the classroom to find his favorite orange sea-salt sports drink waiting for him on his desk. When the teacher scolded him for not doing his homework, he’d later discover that I’d quietly done it for him after finishing my own. At the time, Finn was dating a beauty queen from the neighboring vocational school. Three weeks in, he grew tired of her and dumped her coldly, leaving her in tears. One day after school, Finn found himself cornered in an alley by a group of guys. When I arrived, the leader of the group was already raising a metal pipe to strike Finn. “Think your money makes you untouchable? I’ll beat the crap out of you, you scumbag!” Just as the pipe was about to come down on Finn, I threw myself in front of him, shielding him with my body. The pipe slammed into my back, and I collapsed into Finn’s arms. “Joanna!” I heard Finn’s panicked voice in my ear. The gang leader, realizing he might have gone too far, quickly called off his crew, and they ran off. Finn tried to chase after them but ultimately returned to help me up. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice unusually gentle. My hair was a mess, and I was in too much pain to stand, but I still managed to ask, “Are you hurt?” When he shook his head, I gave him a faint smile. “That’s all that matters.” Then I passed out. … When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Finn was sitting by my bedside. When he saw me stir, he ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “It was that witch Emily! She sent those guys after me. Just wait—I’ll make her pay!” I shook my head weakly. “It might not have been her. Think about it—there are so many girls you’ve dumped. Any one of them could’ve wanted revenge.” Finn froze, realizing I had a point. After a moment, he looked at me with a curious expression. “All the girls I’ve dated… doesn’t that bother you?” I lowered my gaze. “Of course it does.” “Then why are you still so nice to me?” I nodded slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because I care about you.” How could I not care, my dearest Finn? Your sneakers, your watches, your extravagant spending on girls—all of it came from the blood money my mom’s insurance paid out. For twelve years, I’ve kept photos of you and your family on my nightstand, carving countless knife marks into them. Finn smirked and ruffled my hair. “What a little simp. You’re gorgeous, and yet here you are, chasing after me.” He pulled something out of his bag and tossed it onto my lap. It was an invitation. “Alright, fine. I’m single now, so let’s give this a shot. My birthday party’s next weekend. Come by—and wear something nice.” The invitation had his home address on it. That house was purchased with the insurance money from my mom’s death. It had round-the-clock security at the gates, making it impossible for anyone unauthorized to enter. But with this invitation, I’d have no trouble getting inside. “I’ll be there,” I said, clutching the invitation tightly, my voice trembling with excitement. Finn laughed. “Look at you. So easy to please.” I didn’t care what he said. After leaving the hospital, I walked into a deserted alley. In the shadows, the gang leader who’d attacked Finn was waiting for me. I handed him a wad of cash. “Good job. I’ll call you if I need you again.” Once he left, I pulled out the invitation and ran my fingers over it, over and over. A surge of joy filled my chest. Dad. April. It’s been twelve long years. We’re finally going to meet again.
Early Saturday morning, I arrived at Finn’s house. The other guests hadn’t shown up yet—the only people there were the housekeepers, busy decorating the living room with flowers and balloons. I had dressed with extra care that day: a sleek off-shoulder black dress that highlighted my pale skin, my hair elegantly pinned up, with pearls adorning my hair, neck, and wrists, shimmering softly in the light. When Finn saw me, his eyes lit up. “Wow, simp! You really cleaned up today.” I subtly dodged his outstretched hand and lowered my gaze, bowing slightly to the man standing behind him. “Good morning, sir.” Finn blinked in surprise and turned around. Behind him was a middle-aged man with a large belly, dressed in an expensive silk robe, his face clouded with suspicion. The housekeepers greeted him respectfully. “Good morning, Mr. Lee.” In my heart, I greeted him too. Hello, Dad. Mr. Lee pushed past the housekeepers and strode toward me, his sharp eyes scanning my face. After a moment, he turned to Finn. “Who’s this?” For a split second, my heart skipped a beat. “My classmate,” Finn said casually. My dad sneered. “Classmate?” He turned back to me, his gaze narrowing. “Don’t think I don’t know who you are…” I lowered my eyes, feigning nervousness. Then he said, with a heavy dose of scorn, “You’re Finn’s girlfriend, right?” Relief washed over me silently. Everything was going according to plan. It had been twelve years since I’d last seen him. I was no longer the little girl he had tried to kill. My appearance had changed so much that he didn’t recognize me. I shook my head, my voice small and frightened. “No, sir… that’s not it…” He snorted. “Whatever. This isn’t the first time you’ve dated someone, Finn. I don’t care what you do, but keep your girlfriends out of my sight.” With that, he turned and walked away. Finn muttered angrily under his breath, “Stupid old man.” I said nothing, already calculating my next move. So far, everything was progressing as expected. Finn would get me into this house, but if I wanted to stay, I’d need another plan. And I’d already thought of one. I helped the housekeepers decorate the living room for a while as more classmates began to arrive. When Finn was distracted greeting them, I slipped away and made my way upstairs. I set my sights on the room at the far end of the second floor—the one my dad had just entered. From behind the closed door, I could hear his angry voice shouting.
“I’m paying you a fortune every hour, and this is what you’ve done with my son?!” When I reached the door, a stack of test papers flew past me, scattering across the hallway. Each score was shockingly low—20s, 30s at best. Inside the study, my dad was berating a young woman who looked like a college student. “A so-called Ivy League graduate, huh? You can’t even handle tutoring a little kid. People like you are nothing but trash when you get out into the real world!” He was on a roll, and the girl was already sniffling, barely holding back her tears. Next to her sat a young boy, idly dragging a ruler across the desk with a blank expression. That was Liam Frost, my dad’s only son with April Frost—Finn’s half-brother. Seeing my dad about to leave the room, I quickly ducked into the shadows of the hallway. After he stormed out, the girl followed shortly after, tears streaming down her face as she walked. I stepped forward just in time, offering her a tissue. “Are you okay?” She was at her most vulnerable, and my small act of kindness caused her to break down completely. She vented through her sobs: “That kid is a little demon! I tried to teach him something, and he flipped my skirt! When I told him to stop, he kicked me in the knee—look at this bruise!” She lifted the hem of her pants slightly, exposing a nasty purple mark. Gripping my hand, she begged, “You’re not here to tutor him too, are you? Don’t do it. No amount of money is worth dealing with that monster…” I murmured a few comforting words until she left. Then I quietly slipped into the study. Inside, Liam was lounging on the desk, holding a kitten in his arms. He was using a lighter to singe the end of its tail. The kitten let out a sharp, pitiful yowl. When he saw me, he smiled, his eyes roaming over my face, chest, and legs. “Oh, look. Another new tutor. Not bad—definitely prettier than the last one.” His smile was like the slimy skin of a toad—disgusting to behold. But I simply smiled back. “Liam, you really shouldn’t be scaring off your tutors like that.” He froze, surprised. “You know my name?” While he was distracted, the kitten wriggled free from his grasp and bolted out of the room. I walked over to the desk and picked up his workbook, speaking in a soft tone. “Not only do I know your name, but I also know you’re a very special kind of genius.” For a moment, Liam looked stunned. Then his face lit up with excitement. “Really? But all the teachers at school say I’m not normal.” He wasn’t wrong. I’d done my research on Liam Frost. He had XYY syndrome—a rare chromosomal condition linked to heightened aggression, violent tendencies, and antisocial behavior. April had known about his condition during her pregnancy. But she chose to keep the baby anyway. It wasn’t out of love. At the time, she’d just moved into my family’s house and was plotting to kill my mom and take her place. She needed this baby, someone to tie my dad to her forever and turn him into her accomplice. April forged a clean prenatal test result to show my dad, hiding Liam’s real diagnosis. Now, at ten years old, Liam’s violent tendencies were impossible to ignore. He was notorious at school for his behavior—once throwing a younger classmate out of a second-story window, breaking several of the boy’s bones. But to my dad, Liam could do no wrong. He dismissed his son’s behavior as “typical boyish mischief.” “Boys are supposed to be a little wild,” my dad would say. “It’s a good thing he’s so full of energy. He’s strong and spirited—that’s what matters.” I gently patted Liam’s head. “Don’t worry about what other people think. They just don’t understand you. “Your dad loves you, but even he doesn’t fully get you. That’s why he keeps hiring these tutors—to try and ‘fix’ you. But someone as brilliant as you doesn’t need to waste time on boring stuff like schoolwork.” Liam frowned. “But Dad said if my grades don’t improve, he’s canceling our trip to New Zealand.” I leaned in, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “Good grades don’t come from studying. “Cheating on tests, bribing teachers—those are the real rules of this world.” Liam’s eyes lit up, his pupils practically sparkling with excitement. “I like you, big sis.” As he spoke, his hand brushed against my leg. I swallowed the wave of nausea that rose inside me and forced a warm smile. Half an hour later, my dad returned to the study. What he saw left him speechless. Liam was sitting obediently at the desk, diligently practicing his spelling as I dictated words to him. Smiling, I handed my dad a test paper. “Liam’s incredibly smart. I only needed to explain this once, and he aced it.” My dad looked down at the test—nearly a perfect score. He was skeptical, but the handwriting was undeniably Liam’s. (And of course, it was. Unlike the other tutors who tried to teach Liam, I’d simply handed him the answers to copy.) “The other tutors were terrible—I couldn’t understand anything they said,” Liam chimed in, pointing to me. “But Joanna makes it so easy to learn! Dad, I want her to be my tutor from now on. No more hiring anyone else!” Overjoyed by Liam’s sudden “improvement,” my dad readily agreed. “I won’t interfere with you and Finn anymore,” he told me. “Teach my son well, and you’ll be rewarded generously.” After he left, Liam turned to me, narrowing his eyes. “What’s this about you and my brother?” I met his gaze calmly, smiling faintly. “Nothing. We’re just classmates.” Liam relaxed. “Good. I hate that idiot. Always sucking up to my mom, trying to steal her attention from me.” “Don’t worry about him,” I said soothingly. “You’re the real heir to this family. Everything your dad has will be yours someday.” A wicked, excited gleam appeared in Liam’s eyes. “Does that include you?” I kept my smile steady, my voice soft and even. “Of course.”
By the time I returned to the living room, Finn Frost’s birthday party was winding down. “Where the hell were you?” Finn grumbled. I smiled lightly. “Touching up my makeup.” I had, in fact, reapplied my makeup to perfection. Under the bright party lights, my skin seemed to shimmer like it had been dusted with gold. Finn was momentarily mesmerized, his gaze trailing over me. Unable to resist, he draped an arm around my shoulders, his hand lingering on my skin. When I tried to push him away, he tightened his grip, his breath tickling my ear as he laughed. “What’s the problem, little simp? I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I? Can’t I touch what’s mine?” I lowered my gaze, giving him a reluctant smile tinged with discomfort. Finn mistook my reaction for shyness and laughed even harder, teasing me in front of everyone. What he didn’t realize was that, across the room, a pair of cold, menacing eyes were watching us intently. Liam Frost. Before anyone could react, Liam moved. He charged straight at Finn, slamming into him with the full force of a 12-year-old running at full speed. Finn, despite his size, was caught off guard and toppled backward, crashing into the coffee table. “What the f—” Finn started, but he didn’t get the chance to finish. In a blur of movement, Liam climbed on top of him, straddling him with surprising strength. “You think you can mess with my stuff? I’ll kill you!” Liam screamed, raising something in his hand before stabbing it down into Finn’s hand. It was a pen. The sharp tip pierced Finn’s hand, and blood mixed with ink as it splattered everywhere. Finn howled in pain, his scream echoing through the living room. But he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. With a grunt, he drove his elbow into Liam’s face, sending the boy flying off him. “Crazy little bastard!” Finn roared, his voice filled with rage. Liam hit the floor hard, his body convulsing for a moment before he spat out a mouthful of blood—and with it, one of his teeth. But Finn wasn’t done. Ignoring the blood streaming from his injured hand, he stormed over to Liam and kicked him viciously in the stomach. “You want to die, huh?! Is that it?!” The living room erupted into chaos. Partygoers screamed and scrambled to get away. A housekeeper shouted, “Where’s Mr. Lee? Someone get Mr. Lee!” By the time my dad arrived, Finn had Liam pinned to the ground, his fist raised to strike again. “What the hell are you doing?!” my dad bellowed as he rushed into the room. He kicked Finn off Liam and scooped his son into his arms. “Liam, Liam, wake up!” Liam’s face was a bloody mess, his nose and mouth dripping crimson as he whimpered weakly. “Call 911!” my dad shouted, his voice trembling with fury. He shot Finn a murderous glare. “Wait right here, you little shit. You’ll pay for this!” Finn, held back by two of my dad’s bodyguards, raised his injured hand. “He stabbed me first! That psycho stabbed me with a pen!” My dad didn’t care. “He’s twelve! He doesn’t know any better! And you beat the crap out of him like this?!” In my dad’s arms, Liam sobbed weakly, his voice trembling. “Dad loves me more than him… That’s why he’s mad… He takes it out on me…” My dad’s face darkened with rage. He carried Liam out of the room, shouting orders to the staff as he went. The bodyguards and housekeepers followed, leaving Finn behind. Finn stood there, shaking with fury. Grabbing a fruit bowl from the table, he hurled it at the retreating crowd. “What the hell are you all looking at? Get out of here!” The remaining partygoers scattered in fear. When he turned and noticed I was still there, his glare deepened. “Why are you still here? Get lost!” I didn’t move. Instead, I walked up to him and gently patted his back, my voice soft and soothing. “Your dad’s being so unfair to you. I mean, even if Liam is his biological son, he shouldn’t treat you like this.” Finn’s jaw clenched, his hands trembling with suppressed rage. Everyone outside this house saw Finn as a spoiled rich kid, the golden boy of a prominent family. But inside these walls, the distinction between stepchild and biological child was painfully obvious. I’d hit a nerve. “He treats that little psycho like he’s a treasure,” Finn spat. “Like he’s some kind of prince. And me? I’m nothing.” I sighed, feigning sympathy. “It’s because this is his empire. He’s a Lee, and you’re a Frost. Blood always matters in the end.” Finn’s shoulders stiffened. His voice was a snarl. “You don’t know anything! If it weren’t for my mom, he’d be bankrupt by now. This whole empire? It should’ve been ours!” I nodded, pretending to agree. “Exactly. Everyone knows your mom saved his business. If it weren’t for her, he’d have nothing. But isn’t it funny how people forget? Once they’re on top, they bite the hand that fed them…” My words trailed off as I watched the anger in Finn’s eyes grow darker and darker. Mom, I still remember the time you bought me crickets when I was little. I thought it would be fun to put them all in the same box, but by the next morning, they were all dead. I cried so much that day. You told me they needed to be kept separate, or they’d fight each other to death. I’m not that little girl anymore. I’ve learned how to make my “crickets” fight—and I’ve discovered there’s nothing more satisfying than watching them tear each other apart. Which one do you think will fall first? While Liam was in the hospital, I stayed at the mansion, keeping Finn company. As the only person by his side during this rough patch, Finn’s trust in me deepened quickly. One night, he even said, “Joanna, when I inherit everything, I’ll marry you.” Feigning surprise and gratitude, I replied, “I don’t care about the money. As long as I have your heart, I’m happy.” But every night, when Finn pressed me to stay, I insisted on going home. “My mom’s waiting for me.” Finn frowned. “Mom? I thought you were an orphan.” I smiled. “I meant my foster mom.” At first, he didn’t believe me. “You’re lying. You’ve never mentioned her before.” But soon, a sleek white car pulled up outside the mansion. A graceful woman in a silk dress stepped out and waved. “It’s late, Finn. Joanna needs to come home. She’ll see you tomorrow.” Reluctantly, Finn let me go. As I climbed into the car, the woman glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Back to Bluefield Academy?” Bluefield Academy was where I’d grown up—a semi-charitable institution that had taken me in after I was pulled from the river. The woman who saved me was Nora Sinclair, the academy’s director. Quiet but powerful, she had connections everywhere. Every piece of information I needed for my plan, she had uncovered for me. As exhaustion weighed on me, I longed to return to my little room at Bluefield and sleep. But I knew I couldn’t. My revenge was far from over. Rest would have to wait. “Take me to the hospital,” I said.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “296148”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School #重生Reborn #惊悚Thriller
Leave a Reply