Reborn as Their Child After He Killed Me Six Times

With Derek’s condition, there was no way he could have another child.

On the day I was reborn, an administrator in the underworld had whispered to me—if I hadn’t agreed to be born into the Lewis family, their bloodline would have ended.

But I knew this wasn’t the time to drop the act.

Since Claire wanted to play her part, I’d stay on stage with her.

When I came of age, I’d deliver her a “gift” she wouldn’t forget.

Before that, I had to make myself worthy of the title “heiress.”

While Evan Lewis was still drinking from a bottle, I brought home the city’s kindergarten recitation championship.

While he played in the mud outside, I won first place in the elementary school math competition.

When he was disciplined in ninth grade for fighting, I had already secured early admission into an elite university program.

When he got into trouble for dating too young and the girl’s parents came knocking, I was interning at Lewis Group over the summer.

From top to bottom, the Lewis family couldn’t stop praising me, certain that the company would only grow stronger in my hands.

I left early and returned late every day, so much so that Derek could hardly find a moment to speak to me.

At that moment, he sat in his top-floor office, quietly sulking.

“Yuna’s really grown up. She’s got her wings now. She used to cling to me all the time when she was little.”

The assistant froze, unsure how to respond, but Derek quickly talked himself out of it.

“Well, my girl’s outstanding. Of course she’s busy.”

Somehow, word got back to Claire that Derek had been “upset” at the office because of me.

At dinner, she seized the chance to take a jab.

“Derek, Yuna has been spoiled too much by us…”

“Spoiled?” Derek looked up, his voice cold enough to chill the room.

“Yuna can read financial reports at sixteen and rotates through three departments a day during her internship. And Evan? What does he do besides getting into fights and chasing girls? So, tell me, who exactly is the one being spoiled?”

Claire’s smile stiffened as she forced out an explanation.

“I just worry she’s growing up too fast and missing out on the joys of being young.”

Derek let out a cold snort and ignored her.

Instead, he placed a piece of fish onto my plate, his voice soft again.

“Sweetheart, I’ve picked out the bones. Eat slowly.”

I lowered my head and continued eating. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire’s nails digging into the tablecloth until it turned pale, yet she didn’t dare speak again.

Across from me, Evan looked reluctant to accept it, glaring at me as if he could burn a hole through me.

During the final summer before college, I had just stepped off the plane when I received a call from Claire.

“Yuna, your father’s been in a car accident; he’s in the ICU. Get over here and stay with him! If Derek doesn’t wake up, don’t even think about coming back to the Lewis family!”

I stood outside the hospital room with my suitcase, staring at Derek’s still sharp features, the old hatred in my chest refusing to fade.

Back then, in this very hospital, Derek had personally signed six surgical consent forms, pinning me to the operating table and cutting out my heart to save Claire.

Now his life hung by a thread, yet Claire was nowhere to be seen.

The irony was almost laughable.

I suppressed the hatred in my eyes, a faint smile curling at my lips.

Take care of Derek?

That was something I was very good at.

The caregiver had just brought in a cup of warm water when I casually stirred in two spoonfuls of mustard.

Even unconscious, Derek swallowed reflexively. The next second, his brows twisted into a tight knot, his throat bobbing in discomfort.

During his daily sponge baths, I mixed extra menthol oil into the medicated oil, deliberately focusing on sensitive areas—his underarms, inner thighs, and the base of his spine.

Even in his sleep, his body tensed like a drawn bow, cold sweat sliding down from his temples.

The silence in the room was suffocating, so I put on a couple of over-the-top soap operas—titles like “Wife and Her Affair Pulled My Oxygen Tube” and “After the Paternity Test, I Lost Everything.”

Whenever the plot hit its peak, I turned the volume up, letting the drama echo through the room.

Late at night, bored out of my mind, I set up a projector and played horror movies.

Derek had always been timid.

He couldn’t even walk alone at night.

On the monitor, his heart rate shot straight up to 130.

Watching him restless even in a coma, I almost laughed out loud.

Too bad the good times didn’t last.

Before I could have my fill, Derek woke up.