I woke up to find I'd transmigrated into the doomed first wife of the male lead in a period romance.
According to the plot, the male lead and his first love would join forces to drive me to my death, and my son would grow up to become a villain.
Looking at my cold, indifferent husband, I chose divorce without hesitation and set out to build a career in tech.
Years later, I became a tech mogul, while my ex-husband came back begging for another chance, eyes red with tears.
My son calmly pulled out the contract he'd just signed: "Mom, his company belongs to me now."
I was about to praise him for a job well done when I heard his thoughts:
"Once Mom takes over Dad's assets, our next step is to swallow up the overseas market."
Wait, how is this plot moving faster than the one I transmigrated into?
