Housewife Gone Wild

1.Chapter 1 Back To 2014

It was late 2044, and I was in my fifties, counting down my final moments.

Breast cancer had ravaged my body. My husband, Jared Holcomb, was desperately trying to save me, rushing to find the best doctors. But I was done fighting. I'd stopped eating for three days, not even taking a sip of water.

We'd been married for thirty years, but I couldn't stand the thought of laying eyes on him one last time.

*****

In the hospice room, I lay dying, my eyes tightly closed. Suddenly, familiar footsteps grew louder—Jared and our daughter, Yvonne, were approaching my bedside.

The doctor's voice was heavy. "She's stopped eating. You don't have much time left."

A thick silence filled the room. My remaining consciousness was fading, bit by bit.

Then I heard Yvonne whisper, her voice deliberately low, "Mom's about to pass. When are you going to marry Tracy?"

Jared paused before responding, "We'll see. Let's get the funeral over with first."

Yvonne sighed, "Mom wasted her entire life. I never understood what she was holding onto. She should've divorced years ago. All that stress just ate her alive."

My heart felt like it was drowning in bitterness. The reason I'd stayed married was so simple—I wanted Yvonne to grow up in an intact family. I didn't want her to deal with in-law drama when she got married someday.

Now, my stubborn persistence felt like one pathetic, cruel joke. Whatever, I was about to leave this world that had torn my heart to shreds. Finally, I'd be free.

"Quiet as she seems, she's always been stubborn," Jared muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. "It destroyed everything, including herself."

What a sharp way to sum up my life.

"Tracy's had it tough, hanging around without any real status. Finally, she's gonna get what she deserves," Yvonne said, sounding relieved.

"Yeah, I owe her big time. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her," Jared replied, his voice laden with guilt.

Tears streamed down my face, uncontrollable. So, my years of sacrifice meant nothing to them. They only cared about the woman who'd wrecked my marriage, like she'd been "suffering silently" all these years.

Just then, I thought I heard a faint bell, like it was ringing far off in the distance. Exhaustion crashed over me, and I was spent and desperate for rest.

All of a sudden, a bright, blinding light sliced through the dark. Dazed, I forced my eyes open.

My mom's scolding voice drifted in. "Victoria, still sleeping? Yvonne's gonna be out of school soon."

I shot to my feet and spun around. There, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, was my mom—who'd been gone for years—gathering up the curtains. Outside, the sun blazed bright, and the garden was lush with green.

"Still half-asleep? Time to pick up Yvonne." Mom walked over, playfully tapping my arm. "Were you up late reading romance novels again? I've told you not to mess up your sleep. I'm still waiting for you and Jared to give me another grandkid."

"Mom..." The brightness faded, and there she was. I grabbed her hand, felt its warmth, and clung to it like it was my lifeline. "Is it really you? How'd you get here?"

Mom looked startled, pulling back slightly and touching my forehead. "Sweetie, did you have some crazy dream? You said you were bored and asked me to come stay for a few days. I took the car you sent—here I am."

Her words clicked into place like a key turning in a lock. Just after Memorial Day in 2014, Mom had taken some time off, and I'd had the driver bring her from our hometown to Hachester, wanting her company. I wondered if I...

"Knock it off," Mom said, Mom said, shooing me out of my thought. "Go get Yvonne. Jared's on his way home for supper, and I need to fire up that salmon before he walks in." She spun on her heel and clattered downstairs.

I panted, glancing around. This was the villa Jared had bought after we got married. It was 2014, and Yvonne was six, in her last year of kindergarten.

Jared was from Hachester, born into a family with their own business. As the eldest son, he'd been running the company pretty well—everyone always said I'd hit the jackpot marrying a guy who was this young, handsome, and successful.

I walked out to the balcony. The sun warmed my skin, and I wondered—had I time-traveled? Did fate take pity on me, seeing how I'd wasted my first life? Was this a do-over, or just another shot at screwing things up?

Not far away, a couple of guys were playing tennis on the community court, that easy, carefree vibe of being young just pouring off them.

I rested my chin in my hand, watching. After a while, I let out a laugh. It seemed all those prayers at the churches actually worked.

I took a deep breath and checked the time—3:40 PM. Normally, as a stay-at-home mom, I'd now be heading out to pick Yvonne up, a 30-minute drive from the villa.

But today, I felt like slacking off. Yvonne was my kid, but picking her up wasn't just my job. I pulled out my phone and called Jared.

His young, crisp voice answered, "What's up? You on your way to get Yvonne?"

I flopped back onto the couch, feigning a weak tone. "Ugh, my stomach's been acting up. Can you pick her up instead?"

Jared's voice tightened. "I've got a meeting. Can your mom do it?"

"She's busy cooking. You know I can't handle raw fish," I said casually. I knew him—if I didn't go, he'd find a way.

"Okay, I'll send someone," Jared said and hung up quickly.

I stood up and walked to the closet. The mirror caught me—a young woman in a relaxed, flowy dress.

Back then, Jared wasn't really into me for my personality. He was attracted to my looks, my body—he'd say I was hot, spirited, even a bit wild. Crazy, right? A guy as smart and put-together as Jared could be so superficial.

Jared was basically a gentleman. Ever since we started dating, he'd always been polite—never raised his voice or picked fights.

He worked things out with words, never gave me the cold shoulder, and didn't have any nasty guy habits. He could always keep his cool and solve problems like they were no big deal.

On our wedding night, he'd had some drinks before he stepped into the room. One look at me in that mermaid gown and his eyes burned with desire. Still, he asked nicely if I was okay with that.

I looked up to him, practically worshipped him, so I just nodded. Even though he hadn't got all wild like most guys might, that night, I became his woman, just like I'd hoped.

I'd been so hopeful, dreaming of a happy life with him—living together day in and day out, him working, me taking care of home.

However, dreams and reality never mixed. There was always a line between them.

By our fifth year of marriage, he cheated. Her name was Tracy Darwin—his assistant, his go-to, his right-hand woman. He said she was his main support, the one who had his back when he was up against rivals. He couldn't live without her.

They'd been together over a year by now. In my previous life, I was still in the dark at this point.

This time, I decided to let him go and finally set myself free. I was gonna live by that line I saw online: [Anyway, he's the only one paying your bills without wanting your body in return.]

2.Chapter 2 Teacher Her A Lesson

I had been so small-minded in my precious life. Now, I saw things clearer. I didn't need to prove I was pretty or that I'd always be loved—what a stupid waste of time.

Luckily, I'd got looks to spare. Those looks I got from people made that crystal clear. But beauty was just one thing I'd got going for me.

Last time around, I'd been stuck on all that nonsense—guys fawning over me, girls jealous as hell. But now, that whole mindset felt like a fragile bubble. One tiny touch, and it burst.

Now that I got a second shot at life, I knew being pretty should be just one card in my deck. Power, money, and respect were the real game-changers. Fairness wouldn't just fall into my lap, and I needed the skills and brains to take on the world.

I already lived through that nightmare of a previous life. From now on, I was keeping it simple: no drama, no tears.

After staring at myself for what felt like forever, I stripped off my casual dress and headed into the bathroom.

In those five years of marriage, I'd been all about being the perfect wife. To keep Jared from worrying, I'd long since packed away—or straight-up tossed—all those revealing outfits. Every time I went shopping, I only looked for modest pieces that screamed "good girl."

My body was still killer—with that classic married woman's soft, smooth look. Even a simple fitted dress could showcase my killer curves. Why would I waste this perfect figure?

*****

The sky was turning dark, and a sleek SUV rolled up to the gate.

I figured it was Warner, Jared's driver, dropping off Yvonne. But nope—it was Jared himself. He opened the back door, and Yvonne dragged her backpack into the living room.

Spotting me on the couch, she hurled the backpack at me and yelled, "Mom, why didn't you pick me up? You promised you'd be on time every day."

Looking at my little girl—so young, yet so quick to fly off the handle—I knew I'd spoiled her rotten. She stared at me with that demanding look, like a princess ordering around her hardworking maid.

Jared stepped in, scowling. Barely thirty, he already had that CEO vibe. Dressed in a sharp suit, he looked like a total power player straight out of a romance novel.

I'd loved him so much I'd lost myself in my previous life. But now, he was just a lover of yesterday, totally dead to me.

"I never wanna talk to you again," Yvonne shrieked at me. "You're a terrible mom."

I shot up and cornered her at the bottom of the stairs. I grabbed her collar, making sure she couldn't bolt.

Yvonne thrashed, eyes wide, pure disbelief and fury blazing out like she could torch me with a look.

"Pick up your backpack," I said, calm but hard.

"NO!" she yelled right back.

I lifted my hand. Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the hit.

"Victoria," Jared called, his voice low.

I turned and locked eyes with him.

He hurried over, picked up the backpack, and led the fuming Yvonne upstairs.

The commotion brought Mom out of the kitchen. "What's going on? Is that Yvonne crying?" she asked.

I walked over to her. "Yeah, I was just disciplining her. She was acting out."

Mom looked disapproving. "She's just a kid."

"That's why she needs to learn who's in charge," I said. My voice came out cold as ice. Mom gave me a few weird looks.

She must feel it strange. Yvonne had been my entire world, and I'd never even raised my voice to her. When she threw a tantrum, I'd spend hours trying to calm her down, usually giving in to whatever she wanted in the end.

But now, I was done being patient. Coddling an ungrateful kid was just a waste of my time. After all, she'd end up fawning over her stepmom instead of me.

Then I went help Mom cook dinner. There was no live-in maid in the house; I'd always handled the cooking myself. Only a cleaning crew swept through every three days, and a lawn guy would swing by regularly to keep the yard in check.

I'd wanted to be a perfect wife—keep the house running like a well-oiled machine, so Jared'd see how hard I was trying. Maybe then, he'd say something good about me when he talked to other people.

"Mom, I'm heading to the housekeeping agency tomorrow," I said while rinsing veggies.

Mom stirred a pan on the stove and gave me a puzzled look. "Why? Gonna replace the cleaner?"

"Nah. I'm planning to hire two full-time maids for our place," I replied casually.

"Huh?" Mom's eyes widened. "This house isn't that much work. Cooking, laundry, picking up the kid—can't you handle that?"

"Mom, I'm a wealthy man's wife now. I'm done with cleaning floors." I laughed, but my tone was serious. "Families like ours typically have three or four full-time housekeepers. Why should I break my back? I can afford it."

"But..." Mom began, then quickly turned back to the stove as the food in the pan started to sizzle and nearly burn.

*****

Mom and I whipped up five dishes and a soup. After setting the table, she nudged me. "Go call Jared and Yvonne. Dinner's getting cold."

I headed upstairs right away. In the kids' room, I found Yvonne still crying, holding a small pair of scissors. She was cutting up photos of herself and me, shredding my pictures and leaving only hers intact.

"What are you doing?" I was shocked. Just a little scolding, and she was out here destroying our pictures—this kid was truly heartless.

"I don't want you as my mom." She glared up, fire in her eyes. "You're so mean. You yelled at me."

I looked down at her. Whatever little maternal warmth I had fizzled out. "Fine. If not me, then who?" I asked, my voice calm.

Fuming, Yvonne blurted out, "I want Tracy to be my mom. She's so nice to me, not like you. You didn't pick me up, lied, and even raised your voice at me. I hate you!"

I didn't expect her to mention Tracy and wanted to dig deeper.

Just then, Jared's stern voice came from outside the door. "Yvonne, stop talking nonsense."

Spotting Jared, who had just gotten off his call, Yvonne dropped the scissors right away, darted into his arms, and clung to him, sniffling. "Dad, I don't want her as my mom. She yelled at me."

Jared's gaze snapped to me. For a split second, his eyes went wide—shocked.

I knew why. I was wearing this tight lace minidress, the kind that shows off my back. My figure—slim, with skin tender as cream—was out there for anyone to see.

3.Chapter 3 That's What You Wear?

Jared seemed uncomfortable with my outfit. He probably thought my clothes were totally inappropriate—no decent woman would wear something so revealing and sexy.

"Honey, Yvonne just said she wants Tracy to be her mom. Who's this Tracy?" I asked, feigning curiosity as I stepped up to him.

Jared glanced down at Yvonne, his face tight. "She's just rambling," he told me. "Don't take it seriously. Let's go downstairs and eat."

This was unexpected. Jared was actually trying to cover things up.

I remembered how I discovered Tracy in my previous life—totally by chance when I ran into him at a private room, drinking and chatting with his friends.

I'd been excited, ready to pop in and say hi. But right outside the door, I overheard a man asking Jared when he planned to divorce me and give Tracy an official status.

Jared had said he wasn't considering divorce because of Yvonne.

The guy pressed, "So you're just gonna string Tracy along? C'mon, you've lost all love in your marriage anyway. Divorce seems like a good option."

Jared took a drag, crushed his cigarette out, and said, "Victoria's not my dream wife, but she's the kid's mom. As long as she stays in line and learns to live with Tracy, I won't leave her."

Back then, I just froze outside that door.

Never in a million years would I have guessed my husband could brush me off that easily—just the kid's mom, not his wife. He was only keeping me around out of pity because I'd given him a child, not because he saw me as his wife.

I had stood there, numb, listening to him go on, "She's good-looking, which makes me look good when we're out. Plus, she takes care of the house without creating drama, exactly the kind of wife my parents want me to have."

*****

Snapping back to reality, I trailed behind Jared and Yvonne as they headed downstairs.

Mom was getting dinner ready for them, ladling out soup she'd been simmering for hours.

Jared was as sweet to Mom as he'd always been—no complaints there.

"Grandma," Yvonne piped up, pouting, "how'd you have a daughter this mean? Can you take her back?"

I'd just reached the top of the stairs. Without waiting for Mom to respond, I shot back coldly, "If people could return kids, you'd be first. Bet on it?"

My words must've sounded pretty scary. Yvonne flinched and scrambled to huddle closer to Jared.

Jared shot me a disapproving look. "Victoria, what's your deal today? Why do you keep picking on Yvonne? She's your daughter—the one you carried for ten months. Can't you see how much you're hurting her?"

I sat down, grabbed the soup bowl, and took a bite. "She started it. And for your info, I'm my mom's perfect girl. But your daughter told my mom she wishes I had never been born. I can't get mad?"

Mom jumped in, smiling to smooth things over. "Jared, Victoria's just fired up. Don't take it hard. Yvonne, here—cola chicken wings. Your favorite."

Yvonne pushed her plate away. "No."

I snagged it right up. "I'll take 'em, Mom. Love these."

Mom sensed the sudden absence of my maternal warmth and just shook her head with a sigh.

Jared patiently helped Yvonne finish her dinner.

As I was stuffed, I turned to him. "I'm thinking about hiring two live-in servants to help take care of Yvonne. What do you think?"

Jared looked a little surprised but didn't push back. "You handle the house stuff however you want. Fine by me."

"Why servants?" Yvonne blinked, looking innocent. "Aren't you my servant, Mom? Don't you want to take care of me anymore?"

I nodded. "I'm tired and need a break. Plus, I want to take a short trip. Staying cooped up at home's driving me nuts."

"Trip?" Jared frowned. "Yvonne's in school. Where are you going?"

I held out my hand, glancing at my smooth nails. "Chill out. It's not far—just a quick escape nearby."

"Dad, I don't want Mom to leave. I still need her to drive me to and from school," Yvonne whined. Just moments ago, she'd been shooting me death glares, but that attitude disappeared the instant she heard I was heading out.

She slid off Jared's lap and latched onto my leg. "Mom, even though you scolded me earlier, I'm not mad. Let's make up, okay?"

Looking at my clever little girl, I could already see Jared in her. At her age, she'd picked up his best and worst—sharp, quick, knowing exactly how to read a room and play her cards.

In my previous life, I'd praised her for being "smart" and "thoughtful." But the truth was, I was a total failure as a mom. I dropped the ball with her character; she didn't show me an ounce of respect.

"Alright, I'm not angry," I said with a flat tone. "But sweetheart, you're about to start elementary school. You're a big girl now. It's time to learn to do things by yourself—stop relying on everyone else."

"Mom, I'm still little," Yvonne said, batting her eyelashes and pouting. "I need you. And I'll love you—promise—if you stop getting on my case."

I smiled faintly. "I'm tough on you because I care. I don't want you developing bad habits. Trust me, nobody likes a bratty kid."

Jared gave me a look that suggested I was being too harsh. "Take it easy," he said, frowning. "She's just a kid."

"Six is old enough to know better. Remember when she cut up our photos?" I shot back.

"Yvonne, you can say sorry, and I'll forgive you. But those photos are gone forever." I pried her off my leg. "I'm heading out. Got friends to meet."

Mom, still picking at her food, looked up. "Who are you meeting? It's getting late; where are you off to?"

"Movie night," I grinned, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door to slip on my shoes.

All the shoes by the entry were boring—none of them had the oomph to match my curves. It bugged me for no reason. In the end, I dug through the bunch and picked out a pair of silver kitten heels.

"That's what you're wearing?" Jared suddenly asked, stepping up beside me.

4.Chapter 4 His Calls Didn't Matter Anymore

I looked back at Jared. It had been years since he'd cared about me. Honestly, I wanted to laugh. I knew he wasn't worried about me—he was worried about how his wife would look.

"Got an issue?" I shot back, no more staying quiet.

Jared scowled, clearly pissed. But he didn't argue—he'd tolerate anything until it threatened his precious bottom line.

"Nah. Just don't stay out too late," he replied, turning and heading upstairs.

Behind me, Mom was still fussing over Yvonne at the table, cooing "sweetie" while shoveling bites into her mouth.

I shook my head, feeling defeated. I wouldn't stop anyone from taking care of Yvonne. But I couldn't love her like a typical mom anymore.

I stepped outside, jingling my car keys. Jared had given me a silver Mercedes-Benz E-Class years ago, but the garage had better options. I usually drove the Bentley to pick up Yvonne from school, because it looked more impressive.

I fired up the engine, floored the gas, and drove into the dark night. I'd made plans with an old college friend, Melissa Jenkins, a lawyer who was single and had been hustling in the city for years.

Not long ago, she'd bought a new place and asked me over to warm it up. But that day, Yvonne had gotten deathly sick—throwing up, diarrhea, the whole mess. I'd stayed up all night with her.

When Jared rolled in, he'd tore into me for taking Yvonne to the mall playground, claiming that was where she had caught the virus.

To make up for missing Melissa's housewarming, I'd asked Melissa out tonight.

She rushed over, briefcase in tow, her face registering total disbelief.

I held out a small blue box. "Missed your housewarming. This is my make-good."

Melissa opened it and peeked inside—a gold bracelet gleamed back at her. "Oh my God, Victoria, you're so awesome!" she squealed, quickly clasping the bracelet on her wrist.

After a moment, she added, "But this is way too much. I can't accept this." She started to yank it off, though her eyes betrayed how much she loved it.

I caught her hand. "If we're still friends, keep it."

Tears glistened in Melissa's eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. "Thank you, Victoria. I love it."

After she pulled back, I pulled out two movie tickets. "Wanna go watch a movie with me?"

Melissa's eyes widened, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Whoa, sudden plans? Did your husband and kid finally give you a day pass?"

"I don't need their permission. I run my own life now," I said with a confident smile. In my previous life, I'd lived a suppressed and gutless existence—always looking busy, but achieving nothing. I never even made time for myself.

"For real?" Melissa stared at me, her face a mix of shock and excitement. "Well, I love seeing you like this. It's just like the old you."

I nodded. "Me too."

As we walked into the theater, Melissa reached out and brushed a hand over my back. I turned to look at her.

She raised her hands, grinning. "Sorry. Your back looks amazing. I had to check it out. But seriously, when did you start dressing like this? You're usually so buttoned up."

I smiled, pressing my lips together. "Do I look good in this?"

Melissa leaned in, whispering in my ear. "Half the guys here are about to trip over themselves. Your back is so damn tempting."

I almost laughed out loud. Some things never changed—Melissa was still the same jokester she was back in the day.

"Let them stare." I dropped my voice too, rambling. "Heard some big shot say—if you're pretty, you gotta go out and let people look. Otherwise, it's such a waste."

Melissa teased, "Jared cool with that?" Her tone sounded like his mood was the be-all-end-all of my life.

I scoffed, "A guy who controls what his wife wears was a total loser."

Melissa burst out laughing, drawing weird looks from everyone around us. She quickly covered her mouth, glaring at me. "It's all your fault. Now I look like a total weirdo."

I passed her a bucket of popcorn. "Here. Stuff it."

I didn't pay much attention to the movie, while Melissa ate it up—eyes wide, totally invested.

I leaned back in my seat, propping my chin on my hand. Finally, I had a moment to process this whole time-travel thing.

I was back to twenty-six—young enough to turn things around. And there was only one path for me: making something of myself.

Right now, I was a wealthy housewife with money, time, and looks. In my previous life, I thought this was the ultimate goal for a woman, and I was totally satisfied, never pushing myself further.

Every day, I'd focus on taking care of my daughter and dream about giving Jared a son who'd be just as successful and charming as him. I clung to the fantasy of relying on my husband when young and my son when old.

But ever since Tracy showed up, Jared and I barely had any intimacy—hardly a handful of times the entire year.

Yet, I was young and had strong physical needs. Every month during ovulation, I'd silently beg for him to come home, feeling like a desperate, starving animal.

When he did come home, he'd glance right past my sexy outfits, head to his study, and stay there till midnight. Then he'd crash in the guest room.

I'd tossed and turned in bed, dying to burst into his bedroom.

Jared had been a gentle, refined man with a low sex drive. But when we did have sex, it would last around an hour.

He'd given me just enough to keep me hoping. However, the less we did it, the more intense my desire became. When it got unbearable, I'd take care of myself, only to feel even more empty.

"Victoria, your phone's ringing." Melissa's voice pulled me out of the haze.

I glanced at the buzzing phone—it was Jared. I tossed it back into my bag and said casually, "I don't want to be interrupted during the movie."

Melissa's eyes bugged, and she reminded me again, "Victoria, that's Jared."

I propped my chin on my hand, my eyes on the screen. "I know. Not answering."

Melissa's jaw dropped. She stared at me, looking me up and down like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

It made sense she was so shocked. In my previous life, I'd treated Jared's calls like royal commands. Miss one, and I'd feel like a traitor. But after all the mind games and lonely nights, I was done with his "commands" for good.

The phone rang for a bit, then went quiet. Soon after, a text came through. Jared said Yvonne had a stomachache and needed to go to the hospital, asking when I could come back.

5.Chapter 5 Sleeping Over Tonight?

I knew Yvonne was faking her stomachache to manipulate Jared and me. She was young, but already such a schemer, and had totally played me for a fool in my previous life.

I texted Jared back: [Take her to the hospital yourself.] Then I tossed my phone aside and turned back to the movie's ending.

Jared didn't bug me after that. When the credits rolled, a couple of guys pushed their way towards me. One bumped into me, and his face went bright red.

Melissa was about to give them an earful, but I squeezed her hand gently and said, "It's fine."

The guy stammered an apology, smacked his friend, and they hightailed it out of there.

Melissa grinned and nudged me. "Guess pretty girls make guys go brain-dead. Victoria, Jared's seriously lucky. Bet the second he laid eyes on your face and body, he was dying to get you into bed, huh?"

My cheeks heated up—I was the one dying for it. Too embarrassed to say that, I just smiled and said, "You'll get it when you have a boyfriend."

"Get what?" Melissa blinked.

"Time passes, and even the hottest girl stops turning her man's head eventually. Don't pour your whole heart into love," I said softly.

"I get it. Lately, I've been handling several divorce cases. Those wives are all stunners, and yet the guys still strayed. Can you believe that?" Melissa bit the words out.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Don't pin too much hope on men."

Melissa must've picked up on something, her face etched with concern as she asked, "Jared... has affairs?"

At that point, Jared had just started dating Tracy, and hardly anyone knew about it. As his wife, I didn't want word getting out. Though I no longer cared about him, I had to save my face. "I don't think so," I said.

*****

I got back home late, and yet the living room light was still on.

My mom was pacing around the living room with Yvonne on her back. Yvonne was half-asleep but perked up when she heard the car. She slid off Mom's back and darted to the door, waiting for me.

My mom walked over to coax her. "Honey, let me help you get to bed. Your mom still needs to take a shower."

"Not Grandma; I want Mommy," Yvonne whined, shoving my mom away. "Grandma, go upstairs and sleep. Leave me alone."

I parked the car and walked into the living room. Yvonne bolted over and latched onto my leg. "Mommy, you're home so late. Were you cheating?"

I smacked her lightly. "Who taught you to say that garbage?"

Yvonne clutched her cheek, tears spilling over. "You hit me?" she sniffled, lips trembling as she stepped back. Then she turned and ran upstairs, sobbing like her heart was broken.

Mom looked shocked, glancing between me and the stairs. "Victoria, why did you snap at her the moment you walked in? She was waiting for you. Go easy on her."

I smiled at Mom. "Did you hear her? A kid that age saying stuff like that? She needs a little discipline, and then she'll learn."

"She probably picked it up from the TV. She's too little to know what 'cheating' even means," Mom said, sounding stern. "Kids have feelings too, you know. Slapping her will just hurt her. Don't do it again."

"Got it, Mom. It's late—go to bed." I said it like I meant it. But deep down, I knew Yvonne's upbringing needed a total reset. Better she resented me or ignored me now than for me to pour out all my love, only to get betrayal and hatred in return.

I climbed the stairs. Jared was at the top, holding a sobbing Yvonne. It looked like he'd been waiting just for me.

I stopped in my tracks, tilting my head to look up at the father-daughter duo. A faint smile played on my lips, but it didn't reach my eyes. "What, she's been spinning stories again?"

"Daddy, my cheek hurts so bad," Yvonne whimpered, clinging tight to Jared's neck. With a pitiful pout, she accused me, "Mom's trying to kill me, isn't she?"

I continued climbing. "If a little slap could kill you, then you're just wasting oxygen."

"Victoria, we need to talk," Jared said. Then he set Yvonne down, crouching to comfort her. "Go to your room. I'll be there in a minute to read you a bedtime story."

With Jared coddling her, Yvonne shot me a snooty glare, then stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door.

I didn't follow Jared to his study. Instead, I went straight to our bedroom, sat at the vanity, and started removing my earrings.

I was wearing a sleek, tight dress. My thick, long hair cascaded down my back—no styling, no fancy updo, just natural loose curls that exuded an effortless charm and allure.

Maybe Jared had got tired of me. In my previous life, I'd tried so hard to be sweet, but he'd just brush me off, saying he was worn out from work and needed to crash early.

I sat on the white chair, looking sultry and confident. Glancing back over my shoulder, I caught him staring off into space. "What did you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Why did you hit Yvonne today? She's just a little kid. Even if she did something wrong, a few words would've been enough. You don't hit a child in the face—she has feelings too, you know."

I let out a small "Hmm," then stood up. Leaning back against the vanity with my hands braced behind me, I met his gaze. "Guess you didn't hear what she said to me."

"No matter what she said—"

"She said I came home late because I was cheating." I cut him off, a faint smile playing on my lips. "Honey, cheating's no small thing. If that gets out, it'll trash both our reputations."

Jared's frown deepened. The word "cheating" clearly struck a nerve—his face darkened. After all, he was the one who was cheating.

Still, he made excuses for her. "Yvonne's little; she doesn't get what that means."

I held up my hands. They used to be slim and elegant, but years of constant work had worn them down. I stared at my fingers, my voice steady. "She's already acting out at her age.

"If I don't get her under control now, she'll be a total nightmare when she's older. If you think my approach is too harsh, why don't you try raising her?"

Jared got mad at my dodging the blame instead of owning up. "Victoria, what are you even saying? She's your daughter. It's your job to raise her right."

I nodded. "I get that. When I'm disciplining her, stay out of it. You can be the fun dad, and I'll be the strict mom. Just don't criticize me—I don't want her to resent me."

Jared froze. For the first time, his perfectly handsome face looked rattled. Realizing he couldn't win the argument, he turned to leave. "Go take a shower," he said. "I'll be in after I tuck Yvonne in."

I paused. He said he'd "be in"? Was that supposed to be some kind of favor to me?

6.Chapter 6 They Seem More Like A Family

Jared came in while I was showering. By the time I stepped out in my pajamas, he was already sitting on his side of the bed in his pajamas, flipping through a book. The soft rustle of pages was the only sound breaking the silence.

I sat down at the vanity and began my skincare routine, taking my time. I glanced over the desk, mentally noting what I needed to pick up the next day.

After about ten minutes, Jared called from the bed, "You ready?"

I finished slathering on moisturizer, then walked over and climbed into bed.

Jared set his book aside, turned off the overhead light, and left on the little lamp by the bed. The soft, dim light created an intimate, almost sensual atmosphere.

One of his hands reached over, resting on my chest. Then, in his usual polite, graceful way, he asked, "This okay?"

I'd been waiting for this. I met his gaze, my expression serious. "I'm beat today. Maybe next time."

His hand froze. After what felt like forever, he pulled it back. "Sure."

Funny enough, despite the tension, I fell asleep quickly. No crazy, jumbled thoughts—just a deep, solid sleep. My alarm woke me up the next morning.

Jared was already gone. I shook off the sleepiness, got dressed, and headed out. Right by the door, I heard Yvonne whining, "Dad, drive me to school. I don't want her to take me. I'm still mad at her."

Jared sighed, "Yvonne, she's your mom."

"But she hit me! What kind of mom does that to her kid?" Yvonne shot back, sharp as ever.

"She did it to teach you a lesson," Jared said. "She didn't mean it. It hurt her, too."

"Hmph, I don't care. You have to drive me, Dad," Yvonne insisted, digging her heels in.

Jared had always been a pushover with her and could never say no. So he gave in, saying, "Okay, come with me."

Yvonne grabbed her backpack and trotted after him down the stairs.

I hid by the door, listening until I heard them head downstairs. Then I decided to stay put. They grabbed breakfast to eat in the car, and only then did I come down.

I watched their car drive away, thinking to myself, 'Good. Those two can stick together. Just stay out of my way.'

I had two things to do today: hire two solid servants to handle the house, and find a detective to snap pics of Jared and Tracy cheating—I needed solid proof for the divorce, especially when we split our assets.

In my first life, I never cared much about money. I always had a few million in my bank account, but I never bought luxury items or treated myself—I just played the perfect housewife, saving every penny like it was my full-time job.

But now, I realized I needed to hold onto that cash. The more, the better.

Mom came with me to the agency. We interviewed three rounds of candidates before selecting two servants we liked. That afternoon, I took Mom downtown shopping and went all out buying her things. She looked completely overwhelmed.

On the drive home, she wouldn't let up. "Victoria, Jared's money isn't free. How could you spend like that? Twenty grand on a scarf? Is it woven with gold? That's crazy."

"Just enjoy it. Consider it as my precious love for you," I said softly, my chest tight. She'd always been such an amazing, loving mom. In my first life, she hadn't lived much longer. Now, I wanted her to have it all.

"This isn't right," she argued. "I know you've got money, and you're sweet to think of me. But I'm old. I don't need fancy things.

"Put your energy into Jared and Yvonne. Make your marriage work. Have a healthy baby boy soon, and that's the best gift you could give me."

My mom was stuck in that old-school mindset—she was totally obsessed with having a grandson.

In my previous life, I'd tried everything, downing herbal medicines and seeing countless doctors, desperate to get pregnant quickly. But Jared barely paid any attention to me. So, I never had another kid, not even as I got older.

In this life, no way I was having a son for him. I turned to Mom, my voice flat. "I already have Yvonne. That proves I can have kids."

"Of course you can. You're both young. Jared's the oldest son, running the company now. If he doesn't have a son, people will talk behind his back. He must want a boy," Mom insisted.

She was totally stressed, worried that without a son, my position in the family would be at risk.

But I figured if Jared wanted a boy, Tracy would give him one. I was not wasting a second on that.

All I cared about was finding proof he was cheating. Then I'd push for a divorce and get my share of the assets. With money, looks, and youth on my side, I'd definitely live my best life.

I didn't want to pick a fight with Mom or upset her. So I switched gears. "Mom, you're leaving the day after tomorrow? Why not stay a little longer?"

Mom sighed, "I can't leave your dad and brother alone. As long as I know you're doing okay, I'm good." She'd always been a worrier, always putting family first.

I could tell her mind was made up, so I didn't push to make her stay. But when she left, I secretly slipped a million-dollar gift card into her bag.

Lately, Jared hadn't been home, and Yvonne was nowhere to be found—no calls, no messages.

But this time, I didn't even bother checking in, unlike in my previous life. Back then, if I'd lost track of them, I'd have felt completely lost, desperately calling and texting to find them.

I cleared out all the clothes I'd never liked—either throwing them away or donating them. The shoes in the cabinet that weren't my style got the same treatment. I replaced everything with a new collection.

The two servants had moved in—one handled cleaning, the other cooking—and suddenly my days became easier. But I was done going through the motions. I decided to get my professional skills back on track, start a new chapter, and go back to work.

I'd studied hotel management in college. Dancing and violin were hobbies my parents had invested in for me. Then I got married, had a kid, and got comfortable—dropped everything. Now, I was picking it all back up.

I hired a tutor to brush up on my skills. And my Englysian was pretty rusty. It was the global language, so I was determined to nail it—for future travel, maybe even moving abroad.

Last time, I gave Melissa a gold bracelet. She felt like she owed me and insisted on taking me out to a fancy dinner. I'd agreed, so here I was.

"Whoa, this dress was made just for you. Stunning!" Melissa gushed when she saw me walk over.

I'd heard that purple exuded a unique charm, so I'd chose a form-fitting purple slip dress—off-the-shoulder, a little bit of back showing. A dainty platinum necklace and swan earrings finished the look.

I always knew what kind of woman caught a man's eye—that subtle, effortless allure. Finally, I was leaning into it.

Melissa led me inside, and suddenly, she grabbed my hand. "Victoria, let's go to another restaurant."

But I already saw what she was trying to hide. By the window sat Jared with Yvonne, and beside them was Tracy in a beige business suit.