At the family recognition banquet, the fake young master jumped from upstairs. From then on, my sister harbored resentment toward me for a full decade, and my fiancée Sophie Sheridan went even further, treating me as her mortal enemy. She pretended to marry me, but on our wedding night, she had people break my limbs and locked me in the basement. For ten long years, I lived like a dog begging for mercy, struggling desperately to survive, unable to die. Finally, when I found a chance to escape and return to the Clarke family for help, my parents refused to open the door. “The Clarke family has only one son, and that’s Quentin Clarke.” When my fiancée came looking for me, my sister dragged me before her like a dead dog. Everyone regretted recognizing me as part of the Clarke family, and I felt the same way. In the end, I jumped from the rooftop, only to find myself back a decade earlier. This time, I decided to return the title of Clarke family heir to Quentin, to satisfy them all. … “Tell Quentin to stop being childish. Even if Gavin Clarke has returned to the Clarke family, he’ll still be the second young master of the Clarke family.” That cold voice rang out again, cutting through my ears like a blade. I snapped back to reality, staring intently at myself in the mirror. A younger face, a burgundy suit, and features not yet ravaged by time. I really had returned to a decade ago. Back to the recognition banquet that altered my fate forever. In my previous life, Quentin threatened suicide at this banquet, forcing the Clarke family to choose between us. Everyone thought he was merely throwing a tantrum, even Vanessa Clarke was coldly dismissive toward him. Only after he actually died did they feel bitter remorse. And I, I became the target of their guilt, cast out of the Clarke family with nowhere to turn. When I was living on the streets, Sophie, who had returned from studying abroad, took me in. She said that even though the recognition ceremony hadn’t been completed, she still acknowledged me as her fiancé, and we should get married. Deeply moved by her seeming devotion, I accepted her proposal. Little did I know that she tricked me into marriage solely to torture me, to avenge Quentin. On our wedding night, when I was full of anticipation, she broke my limbs and locked me in the basement, forcing me to live like a dog begging for mercy. Ten years. For a full decade, I struggled desperately to survive in that dark basement, unable to find release in death. Whenever I felt close to liberation, she would send people to heal me, only to continue the torture afterward. Until one time, I managed to escape and returned to the Clarke family for help. I believed they would save me because of our blood ties, but instead, they heartlessly shut me out. Yet they were the ones who posted missing person notices everywhere, insisting on recognizing me as their son. What crime had I committed? I gazed at my reflection with icy contempt, making a solemn vow in my heart. This time around, I would never acknowledge this family or these people—not ever! I forcefully suppressed the raging fury within me and smiled at Vanessa, “Vanessa, please cancel the recognition banquet and go comfort Quentin first.” Vanessa frowned, clearly surprised by my suggestion. “Gavin, the guests have all arrived. If we cancel now, what will people think of you? Of our Clarke family’s reputation?” I took a deep breath, keeping my tone deliberately gentle: “Compared to a human life, what does reputation matter? Besides, as long as you recognize me, I don’t care what others think of me.” Vanessa seemed touched by my “understanding,” a flash of appreciation crossing her eyes. She nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll check on Quentin first. You accompany Mom and Dad to appease the guests.” I smiled slightly, watching her leave, while inwardly sneering with contempt. After Vanessa left, I accompanied my parents in the banquet hall, apologizing to the guests. Though everyone looked at me with strange, scrutinizing gazes, I maintained a polite smile throughout. Just as the guests were preparing to leave, the doors to the banquet hall suddenly burst open. Quentin, wearing the same burgundy suit as mine, slowly walked in. The moment he appeared, all eyes turned to him. Guests whispered among themselves, their gazes shifting between him and me. Quentin lifted his chin, his eyes filled with challenge: “Everyone, today’s banquet will continue, but it’s not a recognition banquet—it’s my birthday celebration.” I fixed him with an icy stare, my heart as calm as still water. In my previous life, I might have felt angry or wronged, but now, I no longer cared about any of this—not in the slightest. Vanessa approached at that moment, her tone brooking no refusal. “Gavin, let Quentin have his birthday celebration first. We’ll hold your recognition banquet afterward.”
Mom and Dad didn’t look pleased. Clearly, they were unhappy with Vanessa’s last-minute change of plans. Just as Mom was about to intervene, Quentin stepped forward, his voice dripping with feigned hurt. “Mom, it’s my birthday today. Don’t you want to celebrate with me? Gavin won’t mind, right?” As he spoke, he shot me a challenging look, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips. Dad frowned, seemingly wanting to say something, but Quentin wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Dad, please say yes, won’t you?” Dad sighed and ultimately remained silent. Mom shook her head resignedly, gently patting Quentin’s hand. “Alright, alright, whatever you want.” Watching this scene unfold, I laughed bitterly to myself. Of course, Quentin would always be their precious darling, while I was nothing more than an insignificant outsider. The guests in the banquet hall awkwardly returned to their seats, their gazes darting between Quentin and me. Sophie’s parents sat at the main table, their expressions dark with disapproval, clearly dissatisfied with my standing in the Clarke family. Mrs. Sheridan whispered to Mr. Sheridan, “What use is marrying a man like him? He can’t even control a simple banquet. How embarrassing.” I stood among the guests with a faint smile, letting their pointing and whispering wash over me. I’d already decided to leave, so their opinions and gossip meant nothing to me anymore. After the banquet, I voluntarily escorted Sophie’s parents to their car. Mrs. Sheridan gave me a cold glance, making no effort to hide her disdain. I smiled slightly and said calmly, “Auntie, I think we should cancel my engagement to Sophie. Why not let her be with Quentin instead? What do you think?” Mrs. Sheridan froze for a moment before her eyes lit up with delight. “Are you serious?” I nodded. “Of course. Quentin and Sophie are perfect for each other.” Mr. Sheridan’s face broke into a satisfied smile. “Gavin, it’s very considerate of you to think this way. The Sheridan family will remember your kindness.” I smiled faintly without saying more. As I watched their car drive away and turned to head home, a black Maybach blocked my path. The door opened, and Sophie stepped out, marching toward me with a dark expression. She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, nearly crushing my bones. “Gavin, what are you plotting now?” I frowned, trying to break free from her grip, but she held on tightly. Looking up at her, I said with a hint of mockery, “Sophie, what do you mean? I’m just trying to help you and Quentin be together. Aren’t you happy about that?” Sophie paused, seemingly caught off guard by my response. A complex emotion flashed in her eyes as her voice softened. “Why would you…” Before she could finish, a voice calling “Sophie” interrupted her. Quentin had appeared out of nowhere. Seeing Sophie holding my hand, his eyes immediately reddened. “Sophie… how could you do this to me?” With that, he turned to leave. Sophie instantly released my hand and chased after him without a second thought, not even sparing me another glance. Standing alone, I rubbed my reddened wrist and smirked coldly. Whether in my past life or this one, Sophie only had eyes for Quentin. That night, I began packing my bags. Since there was no place for me in the Clarke family anymore, why should I stay? Halfway through packing, my door suddenly burst open. Vanessa rushed in, her face ashen. “Gavin, Quentin’s condition has relapsed. He’s collapsed!” I looked up at her coldly. “And? What does that have to do with me?” “If you hadn’t been messing around with Sophie, Quentin wouldn’t have gotten so upset and fallen ill!” Vanessa’s voice trembled with suppressed rage. “The doctor says Quentin’s liver is failing. He needs an immediate transplant. And you’re the only compatible donor.” I paused, then let out a cold laugh. “So, you want me to donate part of my liver to him?” Vanessa didn’t answer, but her eyes said it all. I stood up, looking directly into her eyes. “Vanessa, what makes you think I would agree to this?” Her expression darkened further as she stepped forward, her words laced with threat. “Don’t make me force you, Gavin. Quentin is our brother. You can’t just let him die!” I stepped back, my heart turning to ice. Mom and Dad arrived at that moment. I turned to them, trembling. “Dad, Mom, is this what you want too?” Mom lowered her head, avoiding my gaze. “Gavin, we love both of you equally. Quentin is our child too. Please save him. The doctor said most donors can regenerate their liver after partial removal. You’ll be fine.” I laughed bitterly, my eyes filled with despair. “What if I’m in that small minority? What if I die? Would you even care?” Dad remained silent for a moment before sighing. “Gavin, stop being difficult. This is for Quentin, and for the Clarke family.” My heart shattered completely. I closed my eyes. Even in this second life, hearing such words from my birth parents still cut deep. Vanessa didn’t give me a chance to resist. She pulled out a syringe and unhesitatingly plunged it into my arm. A cold liquid flowed into my veins as my consciousness began to fade.
When I woke up again, I was lying in a pristine hospital room, surrounded by the smell of disinfectant. The harsh masculine energy of sunlight pierced through the curtains, making my eyes sting painfully. I turned my head slightly and saw Sophie sitting by my bed, her head propped up, eyes closed as if pretending to sleep. Her delicate features remained strikingly beautiful, but I felt nothing but nausea. Seemingly sensing my movement, she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling on my face. “Gavin, you’re awake.” I didn’t speak, just stared at her coldly. She continued talking as if to herself: “You saved Quentin, so I’ll honor our engagement and marry you officially, letting you be my husband in name. But before that, I want to give Quentin a grand wedding, so everyone knows he’s the one I truly love.” I let out a cold laugh, my voice hoarse and mocking: “Don’t bother. Just marry Quentin directly.” Sophie frowned, grabbing my hand with a hint of urgency in her voice: “Gavin, don’t be stubborn. I know you both love and fear me, but since Quentin is fine now, I’ll treat you well too.” A shock ran through my entire body as I violently yanked my hand away from hers. So she had been reborn too. My emotions completely exploded: “Sophie, don’t flatter yourself! I feel nothing but hatred for you, not love!” Sophie’s face instantly turned deathly pale, she opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but was interrupted by a sudden shout from outside. Vanessa burst in, her face excited: “Sophie, Quentin is awake!” Sophie immediately stood up and rushed out without a moment’s hesitation. She moved so hastily that she ripped the IV needle from the back of my hand, causing blood to gush out immediately. Vanessa glanced at me, her tone cold and dismissive: “Gavin, stop being difficult. Quentin just woke up and needs care.” With that, she followed Sophie out of the room. The door slammed shut heavily, but it couldn’t block out the sounds of joy and laughter from outside. I lay alone in bed, my heart filled with nothing but endless grief. Perhaps out of guilt, they arranged the most expensive VIP room for me. Within seven days, I was discharged. Meanwhile, Quentin and Sophie’s wedding was already being planned. They decided to hold a grand beach wedding at the Clarke family’s seaside villa. On the wedding day, the beach was bustling with activity. Guests in elegant attire moved about, smiling and congratulating the couple. I stood on a distant rock, turned, and jumped into the churning sea. Quentin, dressed in a white suit, walked in holding Sophie’s hand. He looked around deliberately and asked, “Where’s Brother Gavin? Why isn’t he here yet? He’s not still upset with me, is he?” My parents joined in the criticism: “That boy Gavin is so inconsiderate. Today is Quentin’s big day, how can he be so selfish?” Vanessa frowned impatiently: “I’ll go find him.” Just then, someone suddenly shouted: “Something’s wrong! Someone jumped into the sea!” Sophie and Vanessa both paled instantly and rushed toward the shore. On the rocks by the sea lay a black diamond brooch, starkly visible against the white stone. Sophie picked up the brooch with trembling hands, her voice hoarse and desperate: “It’s Gavin… this is Gavin’s brooch!” She rushed to the water’s edge, staggering as waves crashed against her, shouting toward the vast expanse of the sea: “Gavin! Gavin!” Quentin followed, his face filled with panic: “Sophie, Gavin… how could he…” Sophie ignored him, just staring fixedly at the turbulent waters, her eyes full of regret and pain. Vanessa stood nearby, her face ashen: “How… how could this happen…”
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