Chapter 1

After I was murdered, my daughter—who had always despised me—risked her life to avenge me.

My wife, who used to spend every day indulging in pleasure, personally killed all my enemies with her own hands.

Then she died for love, clutching my urn.

My soul floated in the air, unable to believe what I was seeing.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the past.

I was in the middle of viciously berating my daughter for only ranking second in her class, while smashing my wife's expensive perfumes to pieces.

Me: "..."

Ah, was I really this cruel before? This time, I'm going to live differently.

Shattered perfume bottles littered the floor, torn test papers scattered at my feet.

The butler and servants stood nearby, trembling.

I silently set down the last perfume bottle in my hand, changing my grip on my daughter Aurora's arm from pinching to stroking.

Aurora took a step back, dodging my hand. Her delicate yet still childish features held a cold edge.

She bent down to pick up the torn pieces of her test paper one by one, clutching them in her hand, then turned and left in silence.

I stared at her retreating figure for a few seconds, then raised my voice: "Aurora!"

She stopped on the stairs but didn't turn around.

"I remember you have a parent-teacher conference tomorrow? I happen to be free—I'll go," I said.

"Not necessary." Aurora flatly refused and continued upstairs.

The words I hadn't spoken stuck in my throat. I sighed quietly to myself, glanced at the mess covering the floor, and ordered someone to clean it up.

Then I dialed a number. It rang for a long time before someone on the other end answered leisurely, background noise chaotic.

"What is it?" A woman's voice, her tone light and lilting, humming a tune. A frivolous manner through and through.

Yet this was the same woman who, after my death, went mad and destroyed my stepmother's family—their business collapsed, their family fell apart.

My thoughts drifted far away, recalling what I'd witnessed as a wandering soul.

My wife, Raven—always promiscuous, living a dissolute life—had red-rimmed eyes, bloodless lips, and none of her usual casual attitude. She used ruthless methods to make everyone who had wronged me pay a terrible price.

Actually, I could understand these actions. After all, no matter how bad my relationship with this mother-daughter pair was, I was still the male head of the Lane family, the family's representative.

But Raven had absolutely no reason to die for love with me.

After she finished avenging me, she stood by the seaside where we'd held our wedding, holding my urn. She stood there for most of the day, the wind stripping away her usual composure until nothing remained.

Only desolation.

At the time, my soul floated nearby. I sneered to myself—running around partying every day, and now you finally have some conscience?

Then.

Under my shocked gaze, she walked step by step toward the deep sea, clutching my urn.

Never looking back once. Lonely and resolute.

Until the waves rose and covered her, and her figure vanished.

Leaving only my soul, deeply shaken.

...

This damn, childish woman, polluting the waters. When her body bloated and floated up, she'd definitely look hideous.

The late-night beach. So quiet. So quiet. My lonely soul seemed trapped in place, yet I also felt a damp, salty wind blow past, disheveling my hair and disturbing my heart.