Blurb：
After a toxic marriage with Marcus Chase ended in tragedy, Felicity gets a second chance at life. This time, when Marcus Chase—heir to the Chase Group—chooses Summer Sue over her, Felicity agrees to a strategic marriage far away. But why does Marcus Chase beg her to stay at the last moment? In this tale of rebirth, revenge, and redemption, Felicity must navigate the schemes of the Chase Family and escape the shadow of her past. Will she break free from Marcus Chase and Summer Sue's twisted love story, or is destiny destined to repeat itself?Content：
After a night of intoxicating chaos, pregnancy forced Marcus Chase and me into marriage.Our married life became a tempest of shattered crockery and incessant turmoil.
We tormented each other into old age, only to succumb to grave illnesses.
On his deathbed, Marcus Chase clutched our son's hand and whispered, “Had your mother not drugged me, how could I have betrayed my true love? Do not bury me beside her. In the next life, I shall not repeat this folly…”
And so, reborn.
No longer bound by his identity as heir to the Chase Group, he stormed into Summer Sue's humble apartment and spirited her away, squandering a fortune on a secluded villa, a gilded cage for his captive beauty.
To forestall any unforeseen complications, he compelled the Chase Family to arrange my distant marriage to the Northeast.
“Felicity, though you are but an adopted daughter to the Chase Family, if your heart is not in it, your mother would never compel you.”A troubled expression clouded Marcus' mother's face.
“Your daughter is resigned to it.”
Upon hearing my acquiescence, Marcus Chase visibly exhaled, a breath of relief escaping his lips.
Subsequently, the grand wedding cortege commenced its mournful journey.
Yet, Marcus Chase, as if seized by madness, prostrated himself before the carriage, arms outstretched in supplication, weeping and imploring me to abandon the marriage.
“Felicity, do you truly consent to this union? Will you not, even now, reconsider?”
A labyrinth of emotions flickered within the depths of Marcus' mother's eyes.
I wrung my fingers, my gaze drifting towards Marcus Chase, seated beside me.
He shifted his gaze indifferently, his coldness a stark denial of the lifetime we had shared.
I offered a compliant smile: “Your daughter is willing.”
Marcus' mother grasped my hand, her voice laced with pity.
“Good child, rest assured, this is merely a strategic marriage. A prenuptial agreement has already been drafted. In three years, once the cooperation between our families has stabilized, the engagement may be dissolved.”
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