My husband had a stroke while cheating on me with his little tramp.

When they brought him to the hospital, I immediately refused treatment.

Not this time. I wasn’t going to be that stupid again.

1.

“Lily, honey, I’ve got drinks with Mr. Sterling tonight. Might be back late, don’t wait up for me.”

“Lily? Lily?”

The face in front of me slowly came into focus, solidifying into the man I once loved more than anything.

Kevin.

My first instinct was to lunge at him, to strangle the life out of the man who ruined my life, who destroyed everything.

But then, something felt wrong.

The huge wedding photo on the wall, the bright sunflowers on the counter, the beanbag chair I picked out in the corner, the breakfast I’d just made sitting on the table.

This was my house!

I was back! I’d been reborn!

“What’s today’s date?” I managed, my voice raspy.

“Lily, what’s wrong?”

His hand touched my forehead, cool and gentle. He muttered, “You don’t have a fever.”

“What day is it?”

“Okay, okay, it’s February 14th, Valentine’s Day. I know I should be spending it with you, but Mr. Sterling wants to talk about this new project. I really can’t get out of it. Please understand?”

“Once the commission from this project comes through, we can finally buy that new house. I’m doing this for us, you know!”

Kevin blinked, his eyes full of tenderness. He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

If I hadn’t lived through this once already, I might have actually believed his bullshit.

He wasn’t going to see Mr. Sterling.

He was going to spend Valentine’s Day with his mistress!

And while they were rolling around in bed, the extreme excitement would cause a massive stroke.

The mistress would panic, dump him at the hospital, and run.

And clueless me? I’d be on my knees, begging the doctors to save him, borrowing from loan sharks to cover the bills.

A path that ultimately led me to jump off a building.

“Which Mr. Sterling are you meeting tonight?”

“It’s… hey, Lily, you don’t suspect me, do you?” A small smile played at the corner of his eye as he teased me.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced out a “No.”

Kevin beamed. “Don’t worry, you’re the only one for me. Babe, I gotta go, gonna be late for work.”

He gave me a tight hug. The clean scent of laundry detergent on him was a jarring reminder.

I need revenge!

I need revenge!!

I need to take back everything that’s mine!

2

It’s 8:00 AM now.

At 11:00 PM tonight, I’ll get the call from the ER.

That leaves 15 hours until his stroke.

I need to get back all the assets he secretly transferred, and fast.

Kevin is a Vice President at his company, Apex Corp, making $200,000 a year.

He always managed his own salary account, claiming he was saving up $450,000 for us to buy a bigger house.

Six months ago, he said he was almost there, even showed me the balance: $410,000.

I remember in my past life, the hospital bills piled up like falling leaves.

After draining my own accounts, I tried to use Kevin’s salary card. The system flashed: INSUFFICIENT FUNDS!

I just assumed I’d grabbed the wrong card. It never occurred to me that he’d already moved all the money.

On one side, the nurses were hounding me for payment; on the other, a $30,000 shortfall.

In desperation, I turned to high-interest online loans, thinking, once he wakes up, we can easily pay back $30k.

Kevin woke up a week later.

When he found out I’d taken out predatory loans to save him, his face instantly darkened.

When I asked for his salary card, he hemmed and hawed, saying he’d invested the money and lost it all.

Back then, I actually believed his investment story. Worried that getting upset might trigger another stroke, I even comforted him, saying it was okay, I’d figure out the money situation.

But the interest compounded. And compounded.

Soon after he was admitted, the $30,000 ballooned to $75,000.

I had to ask him for help.

Maybe get an advance on his salary from work, or borrow from friends.

He exploded, yelling that I borrowed the money, it had nothing to do with him, and I had to pay it back myself.

I was stunned.

He sounded nothing like the gentle, considerate Kevin I knew. He was like a selfish stranger.

The doctor told me many stroke patients experience personality changes, and it could be hard for families to adjust.

I believed it.

Thinking he was fragile after his recovery, I tried to handle the debt myself.

But I’d moved across the country to marry Kevin right after college, cutting ties with my family in the process.

Asking them for help was impossible.

As a stay-at-home wife, I had no recent work experience. Countless interviews ended in rejection.

My only option was to borrow more, escalating from bad online loans to even shadier lenders.

Eventually, I caught the eye of the loan shark's boss, who demanded I become his mistress.

That’s when I started putting the pieces together.

He and that secretary who brought him to the hospital, Chloe, seemed to have been involved for a while.

3

Last time, when I rushed to the hospital, I found a valet ticket stub while signing papers. It listed the location he was picked up from.

Something like… The Grand Royale Hotel, room 303!

Yes!

The Grand Royale Hotel, room 303!

My eyes narrowed. A plan started forming.

I bought a pinhole camera, then checked into The Grand Royale Hotel, taking room 305 – right across the hall from 303.

Noon is peak checkout time.

After lunch, the cleaning staff would start their rounds.

I watched the peephole like a hawk.

Soon, a housekeeper started cleaning 303. As she was finishing up, I opened my door, asked her if she could please clean my room first.

Then, while her back was turned, I slipped into 303.

Stepping inside, I gasped.

Red mood lighting, a heart-shaped waterbed, a jacuzzi tub, a sofa shaped like red lips.

This was clearly a fantasy suite.

Standing on a stool, I quickly hid the pinhole camera behind one of the spotlights. Then I calmly walked back to 305 just as the housekeeper finished cleaning my room.

9:00 PM.

I heard familiar voices outside the door.

"I love you, baby."

It was Kevin!

"Mmm… you're eager. Careful, the baby!"

"It's past the first trimester, right? I've been holding back for so long…"

"Seriously though, when are you going to divorce her?"

"There's a project bonus coming next month, about $25k. Let me transfer that out too, then I'll bring up the divorce."

"Mmm, okay… mmm."

The door slammed shut.

Yes, Chloe was already pregnant at this point.

In my past life, when I found out, I flew at Kevin, hitting him. He called me a crazy bitch and said since I already knew, he might as well tell me everything.

"Chloe and I have been together for a while. She's carrying my child. We got a paternity test done. It's a boy."

"The Chen family finally has an heir!" (He never Americanized his family name pride).

"We've been married three years and you haven't gotten pregnant. You're just a barren hen!"

"You want the $450,000 from my account? I moved it to an offshore account long ago. You'll never find it!"

Sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air, I asked him why. Why, when I was desperately trying to save him at the hospital, taking on so much debt for him, would he do this to me?

He laughed, a cruel, cutting sound, and said something I'll never forget.

"It was Chloe who brought me to the hospital. It was the doctors who saved me. I was destined to live. What does it have to do with you? I'd be perfectly fine without you."

4

Swallowing my disgust, I opened the live feed from the camera.

Watching them cling to each other.

Suddenly, Chloe got an idea. She wanted to play something… stimulating.

Kevin's eyes lit up. He immediately turned and bent over.

Chloe picked up a small whip, like a matador facing an overly excited bull.

Crack. Crack.

Each strike was met with gasps and moans of pleasure.

He was loving it.

Apparently, that wasn't enough. She put on high heels and stepped onto Kevin's back, right onto his buttocks. That move made Kevin's eyes roll back in ecstasy.

Wait.

His eyes rolled back!

Chloe stepped down a few more times, but Kevin didn't react.

That's when she realized something was wrong. She rushed over, shaking him, then screamed and scrambled back. She fumbled for her phone, probably calling 911.

In the few minutes before the paramedics arrived, she frantically got dressed. Then she tried to dress Kevin. He'd already had a stroke; moving him was the worst thing to do, but she was forcing his limp body into clothes.

Last time, the doctor said it was rare for someone so young to have such a severe stroke.

Now I knew why. It wasn't just the stroke from the BDSM; it was being manhandled afterward. No wonder it was so bad!

Soon, I heard hurried footsteps and the rumble of a gurney in the hallway. After a flurry of activity, they wheeled him away.

I opened my door. Other guests peeked out of their rooms, making snide remarks.

"Whoa, did someone just kick the bucket in there?"

"People are wild these days! I heard it clear as day, the guy was yelling 'Your Majesty, spare me!'"

"Hehe. Honey, I wanna try that."

"Oh, spare me. I don't have a death wish."

While everyone was distracted, I slipped back into 303 and retrieved the camera.

Step one, complete.

The real show was about to begin.