The heavy iron gates creaked open, and a woman in a prison uniform stepped out, clutching a yellowed folder tightly in her hands.

Behind her, the guard's voice rang out, cold and flat, "Try to live a decent life out there."

A decent life?

She laughed quietly, no emotion in her eyes. Memories of the body's former owner-Celeste Harper-started playing back in her mind like a movie reel.

Celeste wasn't born a nobody. She was once the daughter of a powerful family in Yannburgh. But things went downhill fast. Her dad gambled their fortune away, and when she was just sixteen, her mom passed from illness. Within three years, her father remarried and brought home a new stepmother and a younger half-sister. That was when her place in the family crumbled.

Her stepmother treated her like dirt, and the so-called sister went so far as to steal the man Celeste loved.

She swallowed it all, pretended like everything was fine. She held on until she was twenty-two. That's when her dad, desperate to keep the Harper name relevant in Yannburgh, forced her to marry Ethan Shaw, the disabled heir of the powerful Shaw family.

Ethan. Yeah, he was once the guy leading the unstoppable Blue Eagle Tactical Unit-basically a legend in uniform.

Sounds like a sweet deal, right? Only... life doesn't give away freebies.

A training accident had left Ethan paralyzed from the waist down. Couldn't walk, couldn't take care of himself-probably never would.

And Celeste? She meant nothing in the Shaw household. Cold stares, distant voices, as if she didn't even exist.

Then came the worst part. She got slapped with a "manslaughter" charge and got thrown in prison for three whole years.

Three years ago felt like yesterday. The pain, the betrayal-it all still haunted her.

Sitting in the back of a taxi, she stared out the window, fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt, knuckles white.

This life of hers? Always about swallowing her pride, always walking on eggshells. So when she hit rock bottom in prison, she had actually thought about ending it. And maybe she did. Because now... she was back, different.

She had Celeste's entire past etched into her soul-every wound, every grudge.

After half an hour on the road, the taxi finally pulled up to a three-story European-style mansion built halfway up a quiet hill. The place screamed low-key luxury. She pulled out her last crumpled bill from her pocket, said a quiet thanks, and headed straight for the front gate of the villa.

She pressed the doorbell.

"Miss Harper?" The housemaid who answered was momentarily stunned, then quickly corrected herself, "Oh no, I mean-madam?! You're back?"

Celeste had been gone for three whole years. During those years, no one from the Shaw family had so much as checked in on her.

Despite the Shaw family's resources and influence, they'd completely ignored her, as if they wished she'd just vanish in prison. It was obvious how much they disapproved of her.

So it wasn't surprising that the maid was shocked to see her standing there. Still, she hurried to the foyer and fetched a pair of slippers, placing them at Celeste's feet.

"Hold it right there!" Before she could even get one foot in, a well-dressed woman came elegantly down the stairs. Her rose-colored cheongsam made her look radiant, and the large emerald ring on her finger sparkled under the light. Her makeup was perfectly done, giving her an air of sharp authority.

She gave Celeste a cold glance from a distance, face tightening. "Wearing such an unlucky outfit into this house-are you trying to bring bad luck to us all? Maynard, take her to the servant's washroom next door and have her shower first. Change into something clean-we don't need any germs coming in! Ethan's just starting to recover; we can't afford setbacks because of her."

Immediately, someone stepped up to her, gesturing politely, "This way, madam."

The meaning was clear: she wasn't welcome inside.

That small room next door was usually reserved for the staff-dingy and cramped. The message couldn't be louder: they now regarded her as one of the help.

Celeste gave a faint, mocking smile but didn't argue. She let go of the slippers in her hand and said calmly, "Alright, Mom."

Then she turned and followed the maid out without another word.

The elegant lady stiffened in place, clearly caught off guard. That last word-"Mom"-cut especially sharp to her ears.

Celeste had only ever referred to her as "Madam" or "Ma'am" before. This was the very first time she had called her that.

And somehow, something about her... felt different from three years ago.

But she couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly had changed-after all, the face was still the same.