Chapter 1Watch Your Empire Fall This Life

In this life, I am still the executive assistant. My boss is still the girl I grew up with.

In my last life, when the boy who hung the moon in her sky handed her a joint venture proposal, I quietly intercepted it and turned it down behind her back.

As a result, she made my life a living hell, systematically destroying everything I cared about until my family was left with nothing.

When the fatal car crash finally took my life, she stood over my broken body, gave a soft, dismissive laugh, and whispered, "If there's a next life, stay out of my business."

Now, I am breathing again. And when that same proposal crosses my desk, I don't reject it. I hand it right to her.

Not long after, her empire crumbles into bankruptcy.

And I turn around, walking straight into the arms of my billionaire father.

* * *

"Catherine, this is the development proposal from Wesley Hawthorne."

I watched as Catherine Dupont, who had been wearing her usual icy CEO mask, suddenly lit up, her hands trembling slightly as she took the portfolio from me.

The only reason she was this excited was because Wesley was her ultimate "what-if"—the golden boy she had spent her entire adolescence pining for, the one who always managed to slip through her fingers.

But looking at the reality of the situation, Hawthorne Industries and the Dupont Group were apex predators in the same sector. They were fierce competitors. Not to mention, Wesley hadn't bothered to initiate contact with Catherine in over a decade.

For him to suddenly extend an olive branch out of the blue… anyone with a shred of business acumen would pause to look for the poison on the leaves.

"Wesley actually reached out to me? Elliot, hurry up, schedule a meeting for us to sign the paperwork."

Catherine’s face was glowing. She was entirely incapable of sitting down to weigh the pros and cons.

If this were my previous life, I would have spoken up to stop her.

After all, childhood loyalties are nothing but loose sand in the face of corporate greed. People change.

I did exactly that in my last life.

And she screamed at me, her face twisted in rage. "Elliot, do you think everyone in the world is as cold-blooded and ungrateful as you are?!"

"If Wesley hadn't pulled me out of that lake when we were kids, I would have died!"

I knew she was blindly devoted to him. The more I tried to reason with her, the more she hated me. So, I took the hit. I went behind her back and formally rejected the partnership.

I didn't do it out of jealousy. I didn't care that she loved him instead of me.

I did it because that "partnership" was a ticking time bomb Wesley had custom-built to blow the Dupont Group to pieces.

Before I died in my last life, I never regretted what I did, even when Catherine found out, threw apocalyptic tantrums, and made my daily existence an absolute nightmare.

At the very least, the Dupont Group survived. Catherine was her father's first female heir, appointed against the immense pressure of their conservative board. Everyone was waiting for her to fail. Everyone wanted to see the empire burn in her hands.

I couldn't bear to see her break. So I volunteered to be her right hand, her shield.

The price I paid was agonizing.

I became the unforgivable villain in her love story, the obstacle keeping her from Wesley. My adopted family lost their jobs because of her petty retaliation.

And the most pathetic part? I took the impact in that car crash to save her life.

As I lay dying, she smiled down at me. "With you gone, Elliot, there's nothing standing between Wesley and me anymore. If there’s a next life, do yourself a favor and leave me alone."

Only after I died did I realize that the crash was never an accident. It was her plan.

A plan to eradicate me.

Now, I’ve been given a second chance. Since Catherine doesn't care about protecting her own legacy, why should I?

Everyone has their own fate. This time, I will not entangle myself in her karma.

If she wants a happily-ever-after with Wesley so desperately, I will personally hand her the bitter fruit she’s begging for.

After all, you reap what you sow.

To help my boss pluck the moon from the sky as quickly as possible, I played the role of the dutiful assistant to perfection.

I didn't waste a single second. I immediately contacted Wesley's office and locked in an afternoon slot to discuss the terms.

In the fifteen minutes between those calls, I pulled out a piece of paper I had memorized—a private investigator's tip-line attached to a multi-million dollar reward for a missing heir. I dialed the number.

"Hello," I said, my voice steady. "My name is Elliot. I'm the biological son you've been searching for."