Rebirth: A Life for a Life

I cancelled all my business events and shut myself inside the house. Still, the spots on my face darkened, my hair thinned, and wrinkles covered my skin. Worse still, weakness and blurred vision forced me to go to the hospital.

After studying my test results, the doctor told me I was aging unusually fast, had early signs of diabetes, and had developed presbyopia. "Your condition is extremely rare, Ms. Hawthorne. We'll need to run more tests."

Deep down, I knew that no amount of tests could help if I didn't tackle the real problem. My prolonged absence sparked rumors in high society. Word spread that the CEO of Hawthorne Group might have contracted some strange disease.

Meanwhile, Mirabelle's account gained over 100 thousand followers as she visibly looked younger every day. In her livestream, she wore yoga clothes and no makeup. Her skin looked fair and luminous, her figure flawless, and she appeared more than ten years younger than before.

"This is insane, Mirabelle! How on earth did you do it?"

"At this rate, she'll look like she's in her 20s in less than a month!"

"Why are you still calling her Mirabelle? She's Belle now. In a few more days, she'll look even younger than you!"

Mirabelle read the comments with a triumphant smile, swaying her hips as she thanked them.

I, on the other hand, watched in horror as worm-like stretch marks appeared across my abdomen and thighs. The very next second, clumps of hair slid off my head and landed on my shoulders.

Just then, bits flooded Mirabelle's livestream. "Thank you so much! How did I do it? The good energy here must've rubbed off on me."

I stared at the brittle bundle of hair in my hands and felt something inside me snap. I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed into Mirabelle's room like a madwoman, seized her arm, and demanded, "Spit it out! What did you do to shift all of your problems onto me?"

Mirabelle's scream drew Marcus to her room.

He took one look at me and scowled in disgust, yanking me away from her. "What the hell are you doing? Look at what you've become!"

"Marcus, take a good look at me and then at her. She's only been here for two weeks! Don't you think something's off?"

Marcus glanced at Mirabelle. Her skin was creamy, her sports tank revealing a taut, sculpted abdomen, and her long legs perfectly shaped by the cling of yoga pants. A flicker of admiration crossed his eyes.

I sneered inwardly when I noticed that. Sure enough, a leopard couldn't change its spots.

Mirabelle abruptly dropped to her knees and sobbed, "Mr. Pembroke, I take care of the cleaning, groceries, and cooking every day and have never made a mistake.

"I genuinely have no idea what's come to Mrs. Pembroke. It's not my fault she's getting heavier or losing her looks!"

Looking up at me with teary eyes, she continued, "Mrs. Pembroke, are you lashing out at me because you're stressed? It's alright, though. I know we housekeepers are just your punching bags."

After hearing that, Marcus shoved me to the floor in disgust. "Look at you. You don't look anything like the lady of the house anymore. In fact, you look worse than a housekeeper!"

The color drained from my face.

Even though our marriage was arranged by our families, we'd known each other since childhood and were practically childhood sweethearts. On our wedding day, he'd vowed before everyone that no matter what happened, he would stand by me.

I gazed at him, recognizing the exact same disgust that had marked his face in my previous life. I warned, "Think carefully, Marcus. Are you sure you want to make an enemy of me for a woman like that?"

Our families were bound by mutual interests. Marcus fell silent, clearly aware of the stakes.

Mirabelle abruptly sprang to her feet and wept, "Mrs. Pembroke, since you can't stand the sight of me, I'll resign and leave this instant! I'll never show my face in front of you again. Happy now?"

She bolted out in tears, and an inexplicable fear gripped my chest.