My fiancé fell for the girl who saved his life—a mute—and now he wants to call off our engagement. I offered him some advice: “The Holt family isn’t easy to get into; she might want to think it over.” The girl took offense and poisoned herself. Ten years later, after taking over the Holt Group, Nick’s first order of business was to ruin my family and come for my life. “This is what you owe Ella.” I open my eyes again and find myself back at my 23rd birthday party. Mr. Theodore Holt asks what my birthday wish is. “If Nick Jr. and Ella truly love each other, then let’s make them the perfect match.” Content I died on one of the coldest winter nights. I thought I could hold on until spring, but Nick didn’t want to wait. With no anesthesia, he sliced open my chest, his scalpel cutting in bit by bit, and my blood poured out like a fountain. It still didn’t satisfy him. Raising his arm, he drove the cold blade right into my heart. The pain nearly made me pass out. I struggled to ask, “Why?” I really couldn’t understand. Nick and I were childhood friends, our families inseparable. My father had supported the Holt Group all these years, helping Nick rise to the top. Even after he took over the company, we never took advantage of our connection. And yet he manipulated the market, spread scandals, and drove my family, the Jensens, to ruin. “Why, Nick?” I gasped, gripping his tie with all my strength. Nick stared into my eyes, as if I’d somehow betrayed him, even though he was the one killing me. “This is what you owe Ella,” he said, his cold voice more frigid than the wind outside. Ella? Ella Snow? The name stirred an old memory, and slowly, her fragile, tear-streaked face came to mind. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. It had been ten years. So Nick had never forgotten her. He actually blamed her death on me, on the entire Jensen family. “Nick, you really are a—” Idiot! I didn’t get to finish. He yanked out the scalpel, and scarlet blood sprayed, clouding my vision. The pain was unbearable.
“Miss, is your headache acting up again?” There was no icy basement, no howling wind. Instead, the room was warm, the sounds of laughter and music filling the air. Neon lights flickered outside, with cars streaming down the streets below. I was standing on the balcony of the Lexington Grand Hotel, looking out over the city that never sleeps. It was my 23rd birthday party. I’d come back to life. Not only was I alive and well, but I was five years in the past. This was the year the Jensen Group completed a major international merger and went public. And this was the year I hadn’t yet become Nick’s wife. “Oh, what a headache.” Behind me, I heard a bitter whisper. “Nick Jr. has been on every major media channel for three days straight, declaring that he wants to cancel his engagement with the Jensen family.” I stopped Rachel, my assistant, from responding. This was more than just canceling an engagement. This was the year Nick had been in a car accident while visiting a rural project, and a local girl had saved him after he fell off a cliff. The girl was delicate and beautiful, and in her desperation to help him, she’d eaten an herb that damaged her voice. Nick had been so moved that he’d brought her back to the Holt Mansion. For three days, he’d been making public statements. He was going to marry her—only her. He was determined to make her the future Mrs. Holt, wife of the Holt Group’s CEO. “Miss, don’t believe all that nonsense. You and Nick Jr. have known each other since childhood. All these years of friendship…” I shook my head, gently refusing Rachel’s comfort. I knew exactly what she was going to say. Three days ago, I’d woken up at the Jensen Estate. Three days was all I needed to piece together everything, both past and present. “Miss,” Rachel said softly, looking excited, “Nick Jr. just arrived.”
I turned and saw Nick approaching, wearing a crisp suit and surrounded by a crowd. The whispers around us went silent in an instant. Nick and I had grown up together. Our engagement had been arranged early on by our families to cement our business alliance. Anytime someone spoke ill of me, he was the first to stand up for me. Anytime he got into trouble at home, I’d be the first to help smooth things over for him. Until now, everyone had assumed I was Nick’s only love—the future Mrs. Holt, without question. Yet here, at my 23rd birthday party, he brought another woman with him. Ella Snow was draped in a fancy dress and perfectly made up, though it looked like she was wearing someone else’s skin. She clung to Nick’s arm, practically hiding behind him for protection. Nick leaned down and whispered something to her, his eyes filled with affection. Ella looked at me, her expression quickly shifting to one of uneasy fear. She stepped forward. With a soft thud, she dropped to her knees in front of me.
How familiar this scene was. Even the tear at the corner of her eye, ready to fall, was the same. In my previous life, her frail, helpless look had deceived me. I’d actually been willing to help her and Nick figure things out. As a Jensen heiress, I certainly didn’t need Nick. Yes, her presence had stung, but it hadn’t made me lose my composure. When Nick wanted to break off our engagement, I didn’t cause a scene. Out of respect for our history, I sincerely offered him a few words of advice: “Miss Snow is new in Lexington and has lost her voice, even though she saved you. But as for making her the next Mrs. Holt? Even if you convinced every board member, I don’t think Mr. Holt would approve. It’d just make things harder for her.” “Nick, maybe you should take a step back. Why not let her start as an intern at the company, and then, down the road…” My words had a double meaning: “After all, can’t you do whatever you want in the future?” That little suggestion saved her from immediate trouble but landed me in endless torment.
Slap! Slap! Slap! In my previous life, the moment Ella knelt, I rushed to help her. This time, I just watched as she gave herself three loud, sharp slaps. Rachel tugged at my sleeve. The room was filled with guests, and many had already pulled out their phones, aiming them in our direction. Rachel wanted to intervene, but I held her back. What was the rush? “Ella!” Nick’s expression was starting to sour. Within seconds, Ella’s cheeks had reddened and swollen. Tears brimmed in her eyes, adding to her pitiful look. She looked from Nick to me, bit her lip, and kept hitting herself. I took a calm sip of champagne. I was curious—how far would she take this performance?
Yes, it was all an act. Her muteness was an act, her delicate “damsel” persona was an act, and even her “suicide” in my past life was an act. Outside a secluded club lounge, I’d overheard her distinct, delicate voice pleading with a doctor: “Doctor, I’m just a poor girl with nowhere to go. If I don’t play the sympathy card, how could I ever get through the Holts’ front door?” “Please give me some medication that’ll put me in a brief state of shock!” “Doctor, I really love Nick Jr. With my background, being his lover is already reaching too high, but since he’s promised to marry me, I need to make sure he feels guilty for me forever.” “Please, just help me! If I fake my death once, he’ll always remember he owes me.” What a scheme. She’d fooled Nick, she’d fooled me, and she’d fooled every high-society figure in Lexington. I’d once asked Nick why he was so taken with Ella. “I was born a Holt heir. Everyone treats me with respect, but only because of my title. Even you, Mila—if I weren’t the Holt heir, would you have cared about me?” At the time, I didn’t know how to answer. If he hadn’t been the Holt heir, there wouldn’t have been any engagement, no shared childhood, no question of love. “Only Ella was willing to give her life for me without knowing my identity. How could I not be moved by such pure love?” He almost had me convinced. As a high-society heiress, I’d always been cautious and thoughtful. I had to consider my parents, my family—I wouldn’t just give my life for someone. We’d all overlooked another possibility. Even if Nick had been unconscious after the car crash, his tailored suit and Patek Philippe watch would’ve made it clear he came from wealth. Whether he was the rich son of an elite family, a business mogul, or a group heir, Ella had known from the start. She’d planned to climb the social ladder from day one.
“Enough!” Nick’s sharp voice cut through the crowd. The room went silent. Ella flinched, slowly raising her head, her eyes wide and pleading as she looked at me. Her message was unmistakable: she’d broken off my engagement and turned me into the town’s laughingstock, and she felt deeply remorseful about it. If I didn’t step in, she wouldn’t stop. Perfect. I lifted an eyebrow and took a leisurely sip of my champagne. Ella clenched her teeth, bowing her head as if she was about to slap herself again. Then, with a loud smack, Nick strode over and slapped the champagne glass from my hand. “Camilla Jensen, you’ve gone too far!”
“Camilla, do you even know what decency is anymore?” Nick’s cold eyes narrowed, his voice simmering with anger. He turned and helped Ella up, gently brushing his hand over her swollen cheek. “Camilla, apologize,” he commanded. “Do it now in front of everyone, and we’ll call it even. I won’t hold it against you.” I almost burst out laughing. How naïve I’d been back then. After uncovering Ella’s scheme, I’d messaged Nick to tell him everything I’d overheard. I even asked him to keep an eye on her. The next day, Ella took her own life by poisoning—not a staged attempt but the real thing. The media had a field day, speculating she’d ended her life over the relentless public pressure. Nick left me a voice message after it happened: “Thanks for the heads-up, Ms. Jensen. Those who betray me will always be punished.” And that was it. For years, I’d thought he confronted her, forcing her to take real poison. I thought he was the same unforgiving Nick I’d always known. I never realized, not until the end, that when he said, “those who betray me,” he was talking about me. Camilla Jensen, did you hear me?” “Ella didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who insisted on marrying her. It’s me, Nick Holt, who’s calling off our engagement.” I stared at him, and a bitter smile tugged at my lips. I’d really been blind. I’d actually thought he was a clear-headed business genius. “Rachel,” I turned to my assistant, “aren’t all the heads of the Big Four here on the top floor?” Rachel blinked, stunned, then nodded. Gathering up my gown, I made my way to the elevator. Nick followed me. “What are you trying to do?” “The old man made a private visit tonight,” he said, clearly nervous. “He didn’t make a big announcement about being here.” I knew that already. After all, a birthday party for a “rising star” in business like myself wouldn’t usually draw the heads of the four most powerful families in the city.
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