Died The Day He Chose His Original

Olivia Smith

I died on the day my fiancé Michael Johnson got engaged to his first love, Sophia Brown.

Sophia wore an evening gown Michael personally designed for her, smiling brightly as she held his arm, accepting blessings from all the guests.

Meanwhile, I was at the car accident scene on Route 23. A steel rod had pierced through my chest, warm blood trickling down the cold metal, pooling beneath me into a shocking puddle of red.

I called Michael seventeen times.

The first sixteen calls, he hung up immediately.

On the seventeenth call, he finally answered.

In the background was the elegant music of the banquet hall. His voice was low, full of undisguised impatience. "What are you freaking out about now? I've told you a million times, marrying Sophia is just for show. Can you be reasonable and stop making a scene?"

I opened my mouth, but the blood foam surging up my throat prevented me from forming complete words. All I could hear was the busy tone as he hung up without hesitation, echoing in the empty car, shattering my last bit of hope, sound by sound.

Michael would never know that the woman he saw as nothing but temperamental was now pinned to the driver's seat by a steel rod.

In my slightly swollen belly was our two-month-old child.

With trembling hands, I released my blood-soaked phone and used my last bit of strength to dial the funeral home.

"Hello, near Route 23, please come collect a body from a car accident."

The voice on the other end paused, then asked routinely, "May I ask what your relationship is to the deceased?"

All around me was just the sound of rain pounding on the car window and my increasingly weak breathing. I used my last bit of strength to say, "I am... the person herself."

Chapter 1

After a moment of dead silence, panicked shouting erupted from the phone. "There's been a car accident near Route 23, the person is still alive! Call an ambulance! Quick!"

I could no longer hear what followed.

The phone slipped from my powerless fingers, landing on the blood-stained floor mat, its screen gradually dimming.

How ridiculous.

Complete strangers would panic and call for help to save my life.

But that man who once knelt outside my family's villa, saying he would love and protect me for life, couldn't spare even one more second for my final call for help.

Messy footsteps approached. Several men's voices came through the deformed car door, cold and cruel.

"Damn, she's lucky to be alive. Brake failure, crashed like this and still not dead."

"If she doesn't die, we can't deliver. They paid big money for her life. If she doesn't die, we don't get a cent."

"Get the gasoline. While no one's here, burn it all. We'll say the car caught fire after the crash. No one can prove otherwise."

"It's so dark, even if someone sees it, they'll just say she was unlucky and had an accident."

The moment the flames shot up, the excruciating pain consuming my body suddenly disappeared.

I floated lightly in mid-air, looking down at the figure being devoured by fire in the car, watching those hands that until the very end, desperately protected her abdomen, protecting that unformed child.

Not far away, the lead man pulled out his phone and sent a message. The moment the screen lit up, I saw the recipient's name—Sophia.

An invisible force pulled at me, preventing me from straying too far from Michael.

I drifted toward what should have been my engagement party, landing under the crystal chandelier in the banquet hall, watching the man I had built up with everything the Smith family had, gently adjusting another woman's dress.

Sophia's phone lit up. She glanced down at it, a barely noticeable smile curling at her lips, then quickly resumed her delicate, innocent expression, holding Michael's arm and toasting with the well-wishers.

Michael seemed distracted, his thumb unconsciously rubbing against his index finger, his face wearing a polite but distant smile.

His assistant hurried over and asked quietly, "Mr. Johnson, what's wrong? You seem distracted."

"It's Olivia. She called me seventeen times just now. I called back, and now no one's answering." Michael frowned, a hint of barely perceptible irritation in his voice.

The assistant immediately showed a disdainful expression and chimed in, "Ms. Smith's family went bankrupt, and she's still throwing tantrums?"

"Ms. Brown took a bullet for you back then and can never have children. It's only right that you marry her. What does Ms. Smith have to be unhappy about?"

"Besides, a young and successful boss like you—so many heiresses from prestigious families want to marry you. If I may say so, Ms. Smith's current behavior is all because you spoiled her before."

Michael gave a light "mm" in agreement with his assistant's words.

I floated before them, coldly watching this scene.

He had forgotten how, back when the Smith family still existed, he was cornered in an alley by rivals and beaten half to death. It was I who, wearing a custom white dress, pulled him from the mud and took him into my villa.

He had forgotten how I gave him free access to my study, showing him the Smith family's business secrets without reservation, simply because he said he wanted to help me support the Smith family.

He had forgotten how my father disapproved of us being together, so he knelt outside our villa for three days and nights, beaten and bruised, burning with fever until he collapsed. It was I who threatened with my own life to make my father relent.

He would never remember that on the day the Smith family went bankrupt, my father was driven to jump from the top floor of the company building.

He stood before the sealed company entrance, looking down at me with a tone of charitable tenderness. "Olivia, don't be afraid. From now on, you can only depend on me. I'll protect you."

Back then, I foolishly believed him and tore up the pregnancy test report I had hidden.

I was afraid he would think that at this critical moment when the Smith family had fallen, this child would only be a burden.

Until half a month later, when he brought Sophia back to the villa where I lived, his arm around her waist, telling me, "Sophia took a bullet to protect me before and can never have children. I wronged her. I have to take responsibility for her. I need to make her a legitimate Mrs. Johnson."

He looked at me with a hint of reassurance in his eyes, and a sense of entitlement. "Don't worry, I only see her as a sister. You're the only one in my heart. She and I are only husband and wife in name. If I don't marry her, as a young woman, imagine how much criticism she'd face."

Michael, when you destroyed my family, you never once thought of me.