After being reborn, I make up my mind to stop chasing after my husband and daughter

Chapter 143

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I’ll admit, I wasn’t like those ruthless heroines from revenge novels, cold and calculating with every move. So when Jared offered me a home in one of the most expensive cities in the world, my resolve wavered.

When we first got married, young and foolishly in love, I’d insisted on signing a prenup to prove I wasn’t after his wealth. Jared had resisted at first, but I was stubborn, determined to show everyone–his parents, mine–that I loved him, not his money.

In the end, the agreement was clear: anything Jared chose to give me would be mine, but I had no claim to his company shares or other

assets.

Even now, I had no idea how much he was really worth. But one thing was certain, buying a penthouse in Shariport was nothing more than pocket change to him.

“The property would be solely in your name,” he continued, voice low. “A place for you to escape to when you need space. And you love shopping, don’t you? The boutiques here are unparalleled.”

I crossed my arms. “Why the sudden generosity?”

Jared turned away, his silhouette framed against the city lights. “These past six years… I’ve been too focused on work. I neglected you and

Yvonne. You raised her alone, I know it wasn’t easy.”

He paused. “I understand why you’re resentful. But Victoria… let’s try again. Let’s fix this. Give Yvonne the family she deserves.”

When he faced me again, his expression was unreadable, those dark eyes impossible to decipher. Was he sincere? Or was this just another

game?

speech would’ve shattered me. I’d have sobbed

men were reliable, I wouldn’t

been different lately: gold bracelets “just because,” stacks of cash slipped into my purse, and now this, a penthouse in Shariport? His motives were murky, but the

tremble. “I just… feel lost.” Stepping closer, I blinked up at him with glassy eyes, the

Yvonne will grow up, and you…” A shaky breath. “I’ve always known I wasn’t enough. Now you’re soaring

back, pulling me close. “I might lose my way sometimes, but

tilted my face up, all wide–eyed hope. “But you always said women can’t

hair. “Focus on work now. Yvonne’s too young to handle a sibling anyway. By ten, she’ll adjust.”

softly, then slipped from his arms with a calculated

His gaze flicked to the

his sleeve, deploying the delicate,

sigh, he reached for his jacket. “Fine. Let

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Chapter 143

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at this hour, construction crews worked–proof this was the kind of elite development where money erased inconveniences

need to see interiors

mused, tracing imaginary tiers in the air until my finger

come

darling.” I coated

eyes now lingered on balance sheets longer than on his face. But

as I smiled my brightest, he struck: “Victoria. One

from the penthouse to the man under the streetlamp. Honesty? Please. In

want you to look at me like you