“I've been reborn, and I swear I'll make that scumbag pay in blood.”
In my last life, my husband and his first love conspired to drive me to my death. They even scattered my ashes into a sewer.
Reborn, I planned every move with care, sending my betrayers to hell one by one.
My husband jumped to his death, his first love was disgraced, and the family business fell into my hands.
At the victory banquet, I raised my glass, thinking I had finally won it all.
Then my most trusted friend gently wiped the wine from the corner of my mouth and whispered with a smile in my ear:
“Congratulations, my dear pawn... You've finally made it to me.”
The person who orchestrated the tragedies of both my lives had been right beside me all along, applauding me tenderly.
A meticulously planned feast of revenge. Every enemy has been vanquished, but when the banquet ends, the “dear friend” who handed you the knife and fork finally bares her fangs. You think the board is clear, never realizing that you are the most important, and most foolish, piece in your opponent's game.
“You look beautiful taking revenge, but I taught you every move.”
