Revenge of the Forgotten Twin

Emma Roscente was obsessed with CEO romance novels, dreaming of marrying into wealth.

She set her sights on Liam Winston, the heir of Beijing's elite circle, who had gone blind in a car accident. She schemed tirelessly to become his exclusive special care nurse.

When the nursing duties grew exhausting, she whined until I took her place.

After Liam regained his eyesight, a celebration banquet was held. My sister secretly obtained drugs, determined to secure her position as Mrs. Winston.

This time, I didn’t stop her. Instead, I thoughtfully booked her a deluxe suite.

In my past life, I had pleaded with her, insisting that novels were fiction and that real-life elites were dangerous to provoke.

She abandoned her plan at the last minute. But not long after, news broke that Liam had secretly married.

That night at the banquet, he had spent the evening with a commoner girl, straight out of a romantic drama.

My sister blamed me for ruining her dream of marrying rich. My parents held me responsible for her failed prospects, subjecting me to endless abuse.

The resentment festered until it exploded.

One night, my sister stormed into my room with a hammer and beat me to death.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of Liam’s recovery banquet.

"Now that his vision is restored, you don’t need to pretend to be me anymore."

"I spent a fortune on this. Just one pill in Liam’s drink, and I’ll become Mrs. Winston!"

The woman who shared my face smirked, shaking a pink vial, her eyes glittering with ambition.

She acted as if she were already in Liam’s bed, about to claim her rightful place as his wife.

I remained calm, refusing to dissuade her as I had before.

"Good luck."

Olivia Roscente suddenly gripped my arm, her voice sharp with warning.

"You’ve been impersonating me for a year. There are details I don’t know. Until I succeed, you stay by my side."

She tossed me sunglasses and a mask, her tone dripping with disdain.

"Cover your face. If anyone recognizes you and ruins this, you’ll regret it."

Watching her smug confidence, I smiled faintly.

"Understood."

After caring for Liam for a year, I knew him well. A man like him wasn’t easily fooled. Olivia’s scheming would be her downfall—and I’d gladly watch.

She scoffed and strode toward Liam with a doctored drink.

He drank without suspicion. Soon, his handsome face flushed unnaturally, his steps unsteady.

Olivia, playing the dutiful nurse, guided him upstairs.

Masked, I slipped her a keycard. "Room 888."

She snatched it, grinning. "Good girl. Once I’m Mrs. Winston, I’ll set you up with a driver or bodyguard. You’ll never want for anything."

"Stand guard tonight. If anyone interferes, I’ll tell Mom and Dad to beat you senseless!"

I didn’t argue. I followed silently but didn’t wait outside her door. Instead, I lingered across the hall.

Soon, a heavy thud echoed from the room.

The door swung open. Liam staggered out, his breathing ragged, his expression dark with fury.

Olivia lay unconscious on the floor, blood trickling from her forehead.

Just as I expected—she never stood a chance.

A beating was the least of her worries. Once Liam sobered up, her fate would be far worse.

Relieved, I turned to leave—only for a hand to seize my wrist.

Before I could react, Liam dragged me into the neighboring room.

Masked, I stared up at him in terror.

In the dim light, he pinned me against the wall, his voice rough. "Your silhouette… your scent… I know you."

I stayed silent. A single word would betray me.

I couldn’t let this happen. If he recognized me, both Olivia and I would pay.

I struggled, but his drugged strength overpowered me.

As I opened my mouth to scream, he leaned in. "Your eyes… beautiful."

My breath hitched—did he know?

He tore off my mask and kissed me.

Panicked, I killed the lights—but escape was impossible.

Five agonizing hours passed before he finally slept.

Bruised and aching, I dressed in haste.

Unlike Olivia, I didn’t believe in fairy tales.

Before he woke, I slipped away—as if nothing had happened.

As I opened the door, a bloated, leering man emerged from Olivia’s room.

He whistled at me.

Inside, the bed was wrecked. Olivia lay half-dressed, unconscious.

Remembering my past-life death, I shut the door and left without a word.

At home, my parents rushed to greet me, dishes in hand, beaming.

"Olivia, darling, you’re back—"