THE CEO'S REGRET: CHASING HIS REBORN WIFE

The elevator ride down from Killian's office felt completely different from the descent she had made in her past life. Back then, she had been a sobbing, hyperventilating mess, her vision blurred by hot tears as she fled into a cold downpour. Today, she simply watched the digital floor numbers count down in silence, her posture upright and her mind perfectly clear.

The slap she had delivered to Killian still hummed faintly in the palm of her right hand. It wasn't an act of blind rage; it was a boundary line carved in stone. He wanted to play the silent martyr protecting his fragile wife from the shadows? Let him play it alone. She was no longer a character in his tragedy.

When the metal doors slid open at the ground floor, Cecilia stepped into the lobby and walked straight out into the midday heat. She didn't call for a corporate car. Instead, she hailed a standard taxi and gave the driver the address to the Lin family estate. It was time to deal with the rest of the garbage.

The taxi rolled up the long, winding driveway of the sprawling suburban villa an hour later. The estate was massive, a monument to old money and carefully cultivated prestige, paid for almost entirely by the shipping empire her biological mother had left behind.

The moment Cecilia stepped through the double mahogany front doors, the heavy, oppressive silence of the house settled over her. In the center of the marble foyer stood her stepmother, Eleanor Lin, and Vivian, who had clearly rushed back from the penthouse the moment Cecilia left. They were flanked by three housemaids, who were currently polishing the silver under Eleanor's watchful, critical eye.

Eleanor turned, a sharp, patronizing smile spreading across her heavily made-up face. "Well, look who finally crawled home. We were wondering when you’d show your face, Cecilia."

Vivian immediately stepped forward, her eyes wide and watery, playing the role of the remorseful, fragile sister perfectly in front of the staff. "Cecilia! Thank goodness you’re okay. I’ve been crying all morning. Please, let me explain about last night. Killian was just so lonely, and he drank too much, and I—"

"Save your breath, Vivian," Cecilia said, cutting her off without even looking at her. She handed her trench coat to the nearest maid, Maria, whose hands were trembling. "The theater is closed for the day."

Eleanor scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her designer blouse. "Don't you dare use that tone in my house, girl. Your sister has been beside herself with worry. You burst into a man's home, throw a tantrum over a little male indiscretion, and then vanish? You should be down on your knees thanking Vivian for looking after your husband when you clearly couldn't keep him interested."

Cecilia stopped at the base of the grand staircase, turning slowly to face them. Her expression was deadpan, completely devoid of the predictable tears and heartbreak they were expecting.

"Looking after him?" Cecilia raised an eyebrow, her gaze landing squarely on Vivian. "Is that what we're calling grand larceny and drugging a corporate executive now, Eleanor?"

Vivian’s fake whimpering caught in her throat. She took a step back, her face losing its carefully manufactured color. "What... what are you talking about?"

"Maria, Martha, Jane," Cecilia said, calmly addressing the three maids who had frozen in place. "You've worked for this family for years. Tell me, does a woman who is genuinely heartbroken over an affair take high-resolution, legal-grade photographs of the scene?"

The maids exchanged panicked glances but remained silent.

"Cecilia, stop harassing the servants!" Eleanor snapped, her voice rising an octave. "You're making a fool of yourself. If you think you can make up wild stories to hide the fact that your marriage is a failure—"

"I don't need stories," Cecilia interrupted. She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and turned the display toward the maids. "Look closely. That’s the nightstand in the master bedroom. See that empty glass with the white powder ring? That’s a heavy dose of a black-market sedative. And look at Vivian's face in the next photo. Does she look like a woman caught in a passionate moment, or a thief caught with her hand in the vault?"

The youngest maid, Jane, gasped softly before Maria quickly nudged her to be quiet.

Vivian lunged forward, her fingers clawing at the air to grab the phone. "Delete that! You're insane! You're ruining my reputation!"

Cecilia stepped back smoothly, letting Vivian stumble forward onto the marble floor. "Your reputation was ruined the moment you decided to be a cheap pawn for a corporate syndicate, Vivian. I’ve already delivered copies of these to Killian’s legal team. By tomorrow, the entire board of the Night Corporation will know exactly what you put in his drink."

"You... you wouldn't," Eleanor stammered, her regal composure completely shattering. "Your father will ruin you for this, Cecilia! He will cut you off completely!"

"He can't cut off what he doesn't own," Cecilia said coldly. She turned her back on them and began walking up the stairs. "I’m going to my room to pack. If either of you steps foot on the second floor before I'm done, the police get the photos next."

"Cecilia!" Eleanor shrieked from the foyer, but Cecilia didn't stop.

She reached the second-floor landing and walked straight down the eastern wing, passing her own bedroom entirely. Instead, she stopped in front of the master suite—Eleanor and her father's room.

In her past life, she would have never dared to cross this threshold without permission. But her past life was a series of submissive mistakes. She pushed the heavy doors open and walked directly to the walk-in closet. Hidden behind a row of fur coats was a heavy, digital wall safe.

Cecilia stared at the keypad. Her father thought he was a genius, but he was incredibly lazy with his security. He used the same six-digit code for everything—the date he took over her mother’s company.

She punched in the numbers: 041198.

A sharp click echoed through the closet, and the heavy steel door swung open.

Inside lay stacks of cash, corporate bonds, and a velvet-lined mahogany box. Cecilia pulled the box out and flipped the latch. The midday sun caught the brilliant, deep blue fire of a flawless sapphire necklace, flanked by matching earrings and a heavy gold bracelet.

Her mother’s bridal collection.

Eleanor had taken it from Cecilia’s inheritance registry under the guise of "safekeeping" the day she married into the family, and Cecilia had been too timid to demand it back.

"Looking for something?"

Cecilia didn't flinch. She slowly turned around, holding the velvet box in her hands. Eleanor was standing at the entrance of the closet, her chest heaving, her eyes locked onto the jewelry.

"Get your filthy hands off my box," Eleanor hissed, stepping into the closet. "That belongs to this house."

"This belonged to Clara Lin," Cecilia said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register that made Eleanor halt. "My mother. You’ve been wearing her rings and hoarding her pieces for ten years, Eleanor. The free ride ends today."

"I am the mistress of this estate!" Eleanor shouted, reaching out to grab Cecilia's arm. "I will call the security guards to drag you out of here!"

"Call them," Cecilia dared her, standing her ground. "Let’s have them explain to the police why my deceased mother’s legal estate items are locked in your private safe instead of my trust inventory. Let’s see what the audit lawyers have to say about the missing shipping dividends from the past three quarters while we're at it."

Eleanor’s hand froze inches from Cecilia’s face. Her eyes darted from the velvet box to Cecilia’s entirely unbothered expression. "You... how do you know about the dividends?"

"I know everything, Eleanor," Cecilia said, stepping forward, forcing the older woman to take a step back out of the closet. "I know about Macau. I know about the Vance Group. And I know exactly how much money my father owes them. You thought you were setting a trap for me by sending Vivian to Killian's bed, but you've just handed me the rope to hang this entire family line."

Eleanor stumbled backward into the main bedroom, her face pale and sweating. "You're a monster. Your mother was a quiet, decent woman. You're a demon."

"My mother died because she trusted people like you," Cecilia said, snapping the velvet box shut and tucking it into her leather bag. "I don't make the same mistake."

She walked past Eleanor without another word, heading down the hall to her own bedroom. It took her less than ten minutes to pack her essentials into a single large suitcase. She didn't take the expensive clothes her father had bought to make her look like a compliant heiress. She took her personal documents, her private journals, and her mother’s gold pen.

When she dragged her suitcase back down the grand staircase, the foyer was dead silent. The maids were gone, likely dismissed by Eleanor to hide the shame. Vivian was sitting on the bottom step, her makeup ruined by genuine tears of frustration, while Eleanor stood by the window, frantically dialing a number on her phone.

"He's not answering, is he?" Cecilia asked, her heels clicking on the marble as she reached the floor.

Eleanor snapped her head around, her eyes full of rage. "Your father is in a high-level meeting with the port authority!"

"No, he isn't," Cecilia said, pulling her suitcase toward the front door. "He’s currently trying to liquidate his secondary stock options because Killian’s legal team just pulled the compliance certificates for your three primary shipping lanes. Your income is frozen, Eleanor. Enjoy the luxury while it lasts."

"Cecilia, please!" Vivian suddenly begged, running over and grabbing the handle of Cecilia's suitcase. "We're sisters! You can't do this to us. If Killian drops the Lin family, we're ruined. Dad will lose everything!"

Cecilia looked down at Vivian's hand on her bag, then up into her stepsister's desperate face.

"We were never sisters, Vivian," Cecilia said, her voice entirely devoid of emotion. "You wanted my life, you wanted my husband, and you wanted my money. Well, you can keep the husband's drama, because I am taking the rest."

With a sharp jerk, she pulled the suitcase out of Vivian's grip. Vivian lost her balance, slipping on the smooth marble and sliding to her knees for the second time that day.

Cecilia shoved the heavy mahogany front doors open, stepping out into the bright afternoon sun. The taxi she had told to wait was idling at the bottom of the steps. The driver quickly got out, taking her heavy suitcase and tossing it into the trunk.

As Cecilia opened the passenger door, her phone buzzed violently in her blazer pocket. A sharp, rhythmic vibration that didn't stop.

She sat down on the vinyl seat, closing the door against the faint, distant screaming coming from inside the villa. She pulled the device out, expecting a furious text from her father or a desperate call from Killian.

Instead, a system notification from her private bank account was flashing on the screen.

Transaction Successful.

Type: Direct Wire Transfer (Internal/Encrypted).

Amount: $5,000,000.00.

Sender: Anonymous / Account Reference: [REDRACTED-VANCE].

Memo: The board looks forward to a more profitable partnership, Miss Lin.

Cecilia stared at the seven-figure sum, her breathing stopping for a fraction of a second. A cold, slow smile spread across her face.

The Vance Group. In her past life, they had funded her father to eliminate her. But this morning, she had used her phone to send an anonymous, highly encrypted tip to their shell network, detailing her father's massive hidden debts and offering them a cleaner, direct route into the shipping infrastructure through her mother’s trust—bypassing her father entirely.

They had taken the bait. They didn't care about her father or her stepsister; they cared about profit. And Cecilia had just proven she was the far more lethal partner.

"Where to now, miss?" the driver asked, looking at her through the mirror.

Cecilia locked her phone, slipping it into her pocket as the taxi accelerated down the driveway, leaving the Lin family villa behind in a cloud of dust.

"The commercial registry office," Cecilia said, her voice ringing with absolute authority. "I need to register a new company."