Natasha Burnett woke up to find herself back at the age of 27.

She was married to Evander Palmer, the world's wealthiest man, and had a son and a daughter.

Evander topped the Forbes list and had once been crowned "The Most Desirable Bachelor" by Time magazine, a man even European royalty had tried to match with their princess.

Everyone said Natasha was lucky. But in this new life, the first thing she did was track down Penelope Holyfield—the woman Evander had always loved—and hand her the divorce papers.

Natasha pushed the agreement across the table. "I want a divorce. You can have Evander and the kids."

Penelope stared at her, stunned that she was suddenly walking away after clinging to Evander for six years.

Natasha's voice was flat. "They all like you better. I'm giving them what they want. Just get Evander to sign. After the mandatory waiting period, I'll be gone."

She wouldn't repeat her past. She refused to spend another lifetime as the invisible wife.

Penelope's fingers traced her coffee cup, and her brow furrowed. "Natasha, what is this? What are you trying to pull?"

Seeing the confusion and caution on Penelope's face, Natasha repeated, "I'm not pulling anything. I'm just done."

"Do you have any idea how many women would kill to be you?" Penelope asked.

"I do," Natasha said, holding her gaze. "Soon, they would kill to be you."

Penelope was finally tempted.

She studied the papers for a long moment before taking them. "Alright. Gotta take the chance, I guess.

"But mark my words—what I take, I don't give it back."

"Don't worry." Natasha gave a small smile. "I won't change my mind."

After all, in her previous life, she had endured a lifetime of solitude.

Penelope moved to another table. She picked up her phone in an elegant manner, then tapped the screen a few times.

When the call connected, her voice turned soft. "Evan? I'm at Caffé Reggio. Could you come get me?"

Natasha smiled bitterly.

Almost every time she called Evander, it was his assistant on the line.

But now, in under twenty minutes, the perpetually "busy" man walked through the café door.

Through the window, Natasha saw him enter, his black tailored suit highlighting his broad shoulders and slim waist.

Their six-year-old son, Mervin Palmer, and four-year-old daughter, Ashley Palmer, rushed to Penelope, hugging her and kissing her on the cheeks.

"Penny!" Ashley chirped, snuggling up against her.

Evander set a cake box on the table and pushed it over to Penelope. "Your favorite cake. I asked them to make it less sweet."

Penelope's eyes lit up. "How thoughtful of you!"

Natasha sat in the corner, her nails digging into her palms.

Six years of marriage, and Evander didn't know what flavor she liked.

In her previous life, she was hospitalized and craving strawberry cake. Evander had his assistant grab a mango cake, which she was allergic to.

"What would you like for dinner?" Evander's voice was low. "How about French food?"

Penelope smiled, pulling the divorce papers from her bag. "Before that, there's something I need you to see."

She flipped to the signature page. "There's a townhouse I really like, but I'm a bit short on cash. Could you..."

Evander took the pen and signed without reading. "You don't even have to ask."

"Are you buying a new house, Penny?" Mervin looked up. "Daddy, can we buy the one next door? Ashy and I want to live with Penny. We don't want to stay home with Mommy all the time."

Evander's brow creased slightly, but seeing their eager faces, he softened. "We can do that."

"Oh, it's no trouble," Penelope cut in quickly. "I'll have rooms ready for Vinnie, Ashy... and you. You can all come stay whenever you want."

The kids cheered. Ashley hugged Penelope's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Penny's the best! Way better than Mommy!"

A sharp, suffocating ache gripped Natasha's heart.

She saw the slight smile on Evander's lips. He had never once been tender with her.

She couldn't watch anymore. Grabbing her bag, she left.

Outside, the memories of her previous life crashed over her.

Their marriage had been one of convenience, a business arrangement between their families. She had a son and a daughter and lived to sixty-two, yet true happiness had always eluded her.

That was because Evander had never loved her—his heart had always belonged to Penelope, his first love.

After their breakup, Penelope went abroad. Evander drank for days, but his pride kept him from chasing after her. Soon, he accepted the arranged marriage.

Back then, Evander, the Palmer family's heir—striking, refined, and noble—was Natasha's dream. Every wealthy young woman in New York wanted to marry him.

When she learned their families had arranged their union, she was ecstatic.

After they married, she loved him with all her heart, but he remained distant and cold.

Then Penelope returned.

Evander didn't ask Natasha for a divorce. He just never took his eyes off Penelope.

Worse still, the children adored Penelope and started drifting away from Natasha.

In her old age, Natasha was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Evander, claiming she needed quiet, left her alone in the estate.

On her birthday, Natasha tremblingly called Evander and the kids, only to learn they were in Hawaii with Penelope.

She tried to make herself some birthday pasta, but forgot to turn off the stove in her confusion...

As the flames took her, the last thing Natasha remembered was Evander's cold eyes the day he slid the wedding ring onto her finger.

She closed her eyes in pain, her final wish a desperate plea: if given a second chance, she would never waste her time on him again.

Natasha returned to the villa late.

She didn't rest. She started clearing out her things immediately.

Evander's suits, the children's toys, family photos—everything went into boxes.

"What are you doing?" From behind, Evander's voice rang out suddenly.

Natasha turned. He stood in the doorway, holding the children's hands, his expression stern.

"Mommy, why are you throwing away our stuff?!" Ashley ran over, her face flushed with anger when she saw her teddy bear in the box.

Mervin glared at Natasha. "Why are you so upset? We just spent a little time with Penny."

Evander's gaze remained cold. "The kids love hanging out with Penny. Why make such a big deal out of this?"

"I'm not upset," Natasha said, her voice even.

"Liar!" Ashley screamed. "You're just jealous of Penny! That's why you're throwing my teddy bear away! You're a bad mommy!"

"When I grow up, I'm moving in with Penny," Mervin said, grabbing his sister's hand, his eyes hard on Natasha. "And I'm never coming back!"

Evander didn't stop them. He just frowned, his eyes cold and distant, treating Natasha like a stranger making a scene.

"Enough!" he said, his voice low and commanding, casually straightening his cufflinks. "I've got a board video call. Toss whatever you like—just keep it quiet."

The door shut. Natasha's tears finally fell.

Her heart felt ripped to pieces, every breath raw.

She wiped her tears, glanced at the mess, and suddenly laughed.

She wouldn't make a sound.

She wouldn't disturb him ever again.

After the divorce papers were signed, Natasha stopped managing the household.

She no longer woke at 5 a.m. to prepare nutritious breakfasts for the children. She no longer waited up late for Evander to return from business dinners to make him an herbal tonic.

The chores she once considered her duty were now all left to the staff.

At first, no one noticed the difference until Mervin was late for school and scolded by his teacher, Ashley couldn't find her homework notebook, and Evander's pocket watch stopped working.

The staff scrambled, but they could never meet the standard Natasha had set.

The kitchen was piled up with unwashed dishes. The living room was littered with the children's toys. The freshly ironed shirts were never quite crisp enough.

The home that was once perfectly orderly was gradually falling into disarray.

When Evander pushed open the bedroom door, Natasha was leaning by the window, reading a book.

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting dappled patterns across her.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" He stood at the doorway, his voice low.

Natasha closed her book and looked up at him. "I'm not."

"Then why have you stopped managing the house?" He took a few steps closer, the faint scent of his cologne filling the air. "Are you still upset about what happened last time?"

"I'm not upset," she said, placing the book aside. "I just don't want to do it anymore."

Evander narrowed his eyes, his long fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "Your reason."

"I'm tired," she said calmly. "We have staff. It doesn't have to be me."

She remembered her previous life, waking before dawn every day.

Evander's coffee had to be precisely 85 degrees Celsius, his sandwiches toasted golden and crisp.

The children's clothes had to be hand-washed, and even their socks needed ironing.

And what had it gotten her? It was Evander's tenderness directed at Penelope, the children's affection for Penelope, and her own lonely death on her sixty-second birthday.

"Natasha." His voice turned cold. "If you're throwing a tantrum, just say so. Don't act like a child."

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. I just want to rest."

Before the words had fully faded, the door was shoved open violently.

Mervin and Ashley burst in, their little faces filled with anger.

"Mommy, you're so lazy!" Ashley shrieked. "We want Penny to take care of us!"

Mervin chimed in, shouting, "Penny is kinder than you, and harder working! She's way better than you!"

Evander's gaze remained fixed on Natasha's face, as if waiting for her to yield.

But she just took a deep breath and said softly, "If you think she's better, then have her come. I don't mind."

The air grew heavy, thick with unspoken tension.

Evander's expression darkened completely.

"Are you sure about this?"

Natasha took a deep breath. "Absolutely."

"Daddy, let's go!" Ashley tugged impatiently at Evander's sleeve. "I want Penny to come now!"

"With Penny here, we don't need you anymore!" Mervin made a face at Natasha. "You should just leave! Get out of this house!"

Evander gave Natasha one last look. Seeing she remained unmoved, he turned and strode out, taking the children with him.

Natasha stood where she was, listening to the sound of the car engine fading into the distance, and gently closed her eyes.

Soon, she would grant their wish.

She would leave them, leave this house, completely.

On her first day moving in, Penelope directed the staff to rearrange the living room.

"This sofa set is much too dreary," she said, her slender fingers lightly brushing over the leather. She turned to Evander with a soft smile. "Evan, don't you think we should get a cream-colored set instead?"

Evander didn't even blink. "Do as Ms. Holyfield says," he instructed Randy Crosby, the butler.

Natasha stood at the turn of the staircase, watching workers carry out the sofa she had carefully selected just six months prior.

Mervin and Ashley followed behind Penelope, excitedly pointing things out. "Penny, we should throw out these throw pillows, too! The ones Mommy bought are so ugly!"

Penelope patted their heads gently. "Alright, we'll replace them all."

Natasha's fingers tightened slightly, then relaxed.

She had hand-stitched those pillows herself while pregnant, stuffing them with hypoallergenic down alternative because the children had sensitive skin as babies.

Now, they were ruthlessly tossed into the trash.

Over the following days, the house became increasingly unfamiliar.

At the dining table, Penelope sat in Natasha's former seat, gently serving food to the two children.

Evander would occasionally pour Penelope a cup of coffee himself, his long fingers pushing it toward her, a softness in his eyes that Natasha had never seen directed at her.

In the evenings, the lights in the living room would dim, and the four of them would squeeze onto the sofa to watch movies.

Ashley would curl up in Penelope's lap, while Mervin would lean against Evander's shoulder. Their laughter would drift through the house.

When Natasha walked by, they didn't even glance her way, as if she were invisible.

The bitter irony was how Evander, Mervin, and Ashley had once been impossibly fastidious about their quality of life.

But now?

She watched Penelope casually toss his multi-million dollar Patek Philippe onto the coffee table, face down, and he just put it on indulgently. She saw the children happily go to school in uniforms that Penelope had just tossed into the washing machine, yesterday's sauce stain still on the collar. She saw Penelope transfer takeout into dishes and claim she made it herself, and not a single person called her out.

Even more absurdly, they spoiled Penelope rotten.

"Penny, don't trouble yourself with these chores," Evander would say, stopping her from clearing the tea set, his fingers gently resting on her wrist. "Your hands are for playing the piano."

"Penny, let me carry your bag!" Mervin would eagerly take Penelope's limited edition handbag, his face showing a fawning expression Natasha had never seen before.

"Ms. Holyfield only needs to rest," Randy would say respectfully, handing her Italian handmade slippers. "Leave everything else to us."

How ironic.

She had been the "live-in nanny" for six years, and they took it for granted.

Yet the moment Penelope arrived, she became the princess they all doted on.

The staff whispered amongst themselves.

"Mr. Palmer is so good to Ms. Holyfield. I've never seen him treat Mrs. Palmer like that."

"The children adore her, too. Mark my words, we will have a new lady of the house soon!"

Natasha's heart was long past caring. She paid no attention, just quietly continued packing her own things.

One afternoon, her phone started vibrating incessantly.

"Mrs. Palmer! Mr. Mervin and Miss Palmer had an allergic reaction at school! An ambulance just took them to the hospital!"

When Natasha rushed to the hospital, the two children had already been wheeled into the emergency room.

Evander stood in the corridor, his suit jacket slung over his arm, his tie hanging loose, fury churning in his eyes.

"Natasha." His voice was low, filled with suppressed anger. "What did you do?"

Natasha was taken aback. "What?"

"They're allergic to mangoes. Didn't you know that?" Evander took a step closer, his tall frame looming over her. "Why did you let them drink mango juice?"

"It wasn't me!" Natasha met his gaze directly. "I would never buy mangoes."

Ever since the children's first hospitalization from eating mangoes, she had been extremely careful, repeatedly warning everyone not to give them mangoes, even reviewing the school cafeteria menu herself. How could she possibly make such a stupid mistake?

"Not you?" Evander sneered. "Then who was it? A servant? Or did they try to harm themselves?"

Natasha opened her mouth, but just then a nurse pushed the door open. "The children are awake."

Inside the hospital room, Mervin and Ashley lay pale in their beds. When they saw the adults enter, their eyes darted away nervously.

"What happened?" Evander asked, his voice grave.

The two children glanced at each other. Then, simultaneously, they pointed at Natasha. "It was Mommy! She bought pastries with mango in them!"

Natasha froze, her body turning rigid as she stared at them in disbelief. "What did you just say?"