Chapter 3Reborn: Destroy the Baby-Swap System

On our wedding night, Serena, without hesitation, injected me with an overdose of ovulation stimulants. And Brandon, utterly disregarding the agonizing, plummeting ache in my lower abdomen from the excessive dosage, took me ruthlessly, repeatedly, well over a dozen times.

Both of them, consumed with feverish anticipation for my womb to blossom with life, showered me with countless traditional herbal concoctions, insisting I "nourish" my body for conception.

In my past life, ignorant of Brandon’s critically low sperm count, I truly believed he genuinely desired a child, truly loved the idea of a family. And so, no matter how bitter those medicines tasted, I obediently swallowed every drop.

But this time, I poured every last drop of those vile potions directly into a potted plant. Then, I pulled out my phone and summoned six virile, handsome male escorts.

In my previous life, I toiled endlessly at home, enduring daily injections and bitter medicines, while Brandon’s parade of outside flings and fleeting lovers never ceased.

He spent his days ensnared in a web of various women, only returning to our bed at night, solely for the purpose of procreation.

Fortunately, he was quite generous with money, never skimping on funds, utterly indifferent to anything else beyond his singular goal.

Thus, in this life, my discreet dalliances with six male escorts remained utterly undetected by him.

By day, I lost myself in unbridled passion with the energetic escorts, their bodies intertwined with mine. By night, I offered Brandon only a perfunctory, disinterested physical presence.

And I never forgot to needle Serena Hayes with subtle jabs, messaging her, hinting—both overtly and covertly—that I felt I was very likely already pregnant.

Sure enough, no sooner had I dropped that tantalizing hint to Serena than she, on the very next day, abruptly married a wealthy, septuagenarian gentleman.