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“Mr. Nichols, your wife is on the verge of death!” the doctor cried anxiously. “You might want to come say your goodbyes!”
“She’s still alive? Call me when she’s dead,” Juan Nichols replied, his voice icy and indifferent.
With that, he hung up.
All the light faded from Debra’s eyes.
The machine emitted a steady, cold beep—signaling that her vital signs had ceased.
In her life, she had loved Juan deeply, sacrificing everything—herself and her family—for him.
If she were given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes again...
--
“Madam, Mr. Nichols has requested you accompany him to the auction. Which outfit would you prefer?” The housekeeper Sophie asked.
Debra gasped, her eyes snapping open.
Everything around her felt eerily familiar.
This was her home, the one she had shared with Juan.
Wait— auction?
Five years ago, Juan was going to a land auction, and as his wife, she had to accompany him.
But Juan paid her no mind and didn’t even inform her that he had replaced her with another female companion.
When she arrived at the auction, all dressed up, she saw his secretary, Shelia, clinging to his arm with an innocent expression on her face...
But that was in the past... so why was she here again?
‘How could this be?’ she thought, utterly confused. ‘Am I... reborn?’
Debra walked over to the mirror, glancing at the dresses Sophie had laid out before her. She looked at herself in the mirror.
A smile spread across her face—radiant and full of resolve.
This time, she was resolute in making those who humiliated her pay for it!
--
The auction was teeming with business elites.
Shelia sat beside Juan. She leaned in and asked, “Mr. Nichols, are you sure you want me to handle the bidding?”
Juan gave a faint smile. “Yes, I trust your judgment.”
Shelia blushed. She had spent years studying finance, all in preparation for a moment like this.
As the auction began, Shelia confidently placed her bids.
She secured the first three prime properties with ease.
Juan sat beside her, watching over her like a mentor.
“The starting bid for Crescent Manor is one billion dollars,” the auctioneer announced.
Shelia was about to raise her paddle when a soft yet commanding voice interrupted.
“Ten billion.” Another woman cut in.
The crowd gasped.
Debra, dressed in a stunning burgundy gown, effortlessly drew the attention of everyone present.
“Debra?”
Juan was stunned.

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