“Nice meeting you, Dr. Harrington. Now please come over and give me a hand,” Amelia called out, her voice tinged with exasperation as she struggled to prop Landon up. She was wrestling with his limp body, trying to get his shirt over his broad shoulders.

Landon, for his part, remained utterly motionless, his eyes shut as if he were simply asleep. He leaned against her like a rag doll, helpless but somehow dignified even in his vulnerability.

Wesley, watching the scene, felt his chest tighten with indignation on Landon’s behalf. Unable to contain himself, Wesley barked, “Step aside. I’ll handle it.”

Amelia, relieved to be spared the physical labor, immediately moved out of the way. “That’d be great. Thank you so much,” she said with a small sigh, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Despite his polished, scholarly appearance, Wesley was surprisingly strong. He swiftly dressed Landon, his movements efficient yet forceful, as though venting his frustration through the task. Finally, he turned to Amelia with a frosty glare. “What’s going on between you and Landon?”

Amelia hesitated, coughing lightly to mask her nervousness. “Well, it’s… a long story. Maybe I’ll just… skip it for now.”

Wesley’s disdain was palpable. Figures. Just yesterday at noon she was Zachary’s fiancee, and by the afternoon, she’s suddenly Landon’s wife.

Unaware of the full story, Wesley couldn’t help but think of Amelia as nothing more than a frivolous gold digger, unworthy of the highly esteemed Landon in his eyes.

“I’ve got time,” he said icily, folding his arms with a long face. His mind churned with resentment. How does a married–or almost-married–woman waltz into the Kingsley family and end up sharing Landon’s bed? This can’t be real.

Amelia frowned, clearly impatient. “I’m in a bit of a hurry…” She had no time for this–her mind was already on the inheritance she needed to claim.

Wesley’s jaw tightened. “Was it intentional?” he questioned through clenched teeth.

Amelia blinked, confused. “What?”

He continued, “Did you deliberately take advantage of Landon while he’s defenseless? Sleep with him while he couldn’t stop you?”

Amelia choked on her breath, coughing violently. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

“Then how do you justify marrying him?” Wesley’s voice rose with accusation.

Before Amelia could come up with an answer, Landon, stirred awake when they dressed him, had heard enough of Wesley’s nonsense.

Though his body was still unresponsive, Landon’s inner voice was as sharp and commanding as ever. Tell him we’re acquaintances, and that I reached out to you before the accident.

Amelia nodded eagerly, her expression brightening with sudden inspiration. Today, her sober mind was firing on all cylinders. In a tactful tone, she said, “Dr. Harrington, Landon and I have known each other for quite some time. Before the accident, he specifically told me that he wanted me to marry him.”

Wesley froze, staring at her in disbelief. “What?”

Landon’s voice echoed again in Amelia’s mind, calm and resolute. If anyone else asks, stick to the same story.

“Got it,” she murmured under her breath.

Wesley finally snapped out of his daze, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stared at Amelia. “Who are you talking to?”

“You,” Amelia replied with an awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. “Dr. Harrington, it’s really great that you’re here.”

Wesley scoffed, his contempt for her evident. To him, she still seemed far beneath Landon’s worth.

Gloria’s cheerful voice floated into the room as she entered. “Oh Wesley, you’re here.”

“Mrs. Kingsley.” Wesley greeted her, his tone softening. Then he asked with a frown, “What happened to Landon? Why is he like this all of a sudden?”

“It’s… a long story,” Gloria said with a heavy sigh.

Wesley’s lips twitched in frustration. Why does everyone insist on calling it a long story? Can’t someone just give me a straight answer for once?

“Amy, go handle your business,” Gloria said warmly, handing Amelia a document. “I’ll talk to Wesley.”

Amelia glanced at the paper–a marriage license. Her name and Landon’s were printed in bold letters, accompanied by all her personal details.

As she took it, she couldn’t help but marvel once again at the sheer power of the Kingsley family. They’re as omnipotent as ever, she thought, shaking her head in awe.

Following her memories from her last life, Amelia stepped into Pinecrest Litigation Firm.

The lawyer, William Smith, was a man in his fifties, with sharp eyes and a kindly demeanor etched into his weathered face. The moment he spotted her, his expression shifted slightly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “You must be Debra’s daughter, right?” he asked, his voice steady yet tinged with a trace of emotion.

“Mr. Smith, hello,” Amelia replied, her voice trembling with a sadness she couldn’t suppress.

That he recognized her at a glance meant only one thing–she bore an uncanny resemblance to her mother, Debra. The thought was like a knife to her heart. How ironic. I look so much like her, yet I’ve forgotten her completely because of that damned fever.

“You’ve finally come. I suppose you’re here to claim Debra’s inheritance?” William said as he reached for a glass, pouring her water with his own hands–a gesture of respect he rarely extended.

Someone of his status didn’t need to do such a thing himself. The fact that he did showed just how much he valued her visit.

Amelia managed a faint, grateful smile as she pulled the marriage license from her bag. “Yes, that’s right. I got married yesterday, so I should meet the requirements for claiming the inheritance now.”

“Congratulations on your marriage,” William chuckled warmly, glancing toward the door. “Where is your husband?”

Amelia’s smile froze. “He… didn’t come.”

“Well, that’s a problem,” William said with a sigh, shaking his head regretfully. “To claim the inheritance, both of you need to sign and take a photograph together. It’s a requirement.”

For a moment, Amelia was struck speechless.

In her last life, she had come here with Zachary to handle the inheritance, and she’d paid little attention to the specifics of signatures or photographs. She had assumed that the marriage license would suffice.

Now, however, she was staring at a dead end. Landon was in no condition to appear in person since a man in a vegetative state couldn’t possibly come here to sign or take a photograph. This is a disaster!

“Ms. Edwards,” William said, his tone turning light but probing, “you wouldn’t have entered a sham marriage just to claim the inheritance, would you?”

“…I wouldn’t,” Amelia stammered, but her face betrayed her unease, flushing with guilt.

Her impulsive agreement to marry Landon wasn’t just about securing the Kingsley family’s protection–it was also tied to this inheritance.

William’s brow furrowed as his years of experience painted a clearer picture of the situation. He sighed, his voice heavy with earnest advice, “Ms. Edwards, your mother thought things through carefully before arranging this inheritance. Her intention was to protect you. If you married solely to get the inheritance, you’re letting her down.”

“No, that’s not…” Amelia’s eyes reddened as her voice cracked. “My marriage is real and legitimate. I’m claiming the inheritance to protect something my mother left behind–her diamond hairpin.”

William softened slightly but remained firm. “Ms. Edwards, you may go now. Please return with your husband next time. It’s the only way.”

“Mr. Smith…”

“We must follow the proper procedures. I’m sorry. Please understand.”

Left with no choice, Amelia stood up and forced herself to leave, frustration weighing heavily on her heart.

Little did she know, as soon as she stepped out of the law firm, William was kidnapped.

Dejected, Amelia returned to Norava. Her mind churned with thoughts of her next steps when someone darted out of nowhere, blocking her path.

“Amy, I’ve finally found you,” Zachary said, his voice dripping with feigned emotion as his eyes locked on hers. His expression was a carefully crafted picture of remorse and longing. “Amy, let’s stop this foolishness. Come home with me.”

Amelia’s face darkened instantly. She took a step back, her gaze sharpening into something icy and unforgiving. “Get out of my way,” she said coldly, her voice like the crack of a whip. All she could feel was disgust as her eyes raked over him with unmasked disdain.

Zachary’s voice spilled out in a rush, his tone frantic, almost desperate. “Amy, it’s not what you think between Sandra and me. I was drunk that night. I thought she was you.”

“Amy, I swear, I’ve made it clear to Sandra that I have no feelings for her. The only person I love is you. She’s already agreed to terminate the pregnancy, so you don’t have to worry. Nothing and no one will come between us again.”

As he finished, Zachary looked at Amelia with wide, pleading eyes, a far cry from the usual arrogance of the heir to the Foster family. In this moment, he’d transformed himself into a picture of pitiful vulnerability.

Amelia stared at him, her lips curling into a humorless smile. Does he really expect me to believe such a flimsy, hole-ridden lie? What does he take me for, an idiot? Sure, in my past life, I was a lovesick fool. But now? Listening to his apologies only makes my stomach churn.

“Amy, please,” Zachary implored, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. “Just forgive me this once, won’t you?”

Amelia dodged his grasp with practiced ease, her expression colder than ice.

“Amy?” Zachary froze, his hand hanging in midair, disbelief clouding his face.

Her voice, sharp and unyielding, cut through the tension like a blade. “Sandra is pregnant. Whether it’s out of moral obligation or basic decency, you should take responsibility for her and the child. Don’t ever come near me again.”

“Amy, that night was a mistake. I was drunk and stupid,” he protested earnestly, his tone strained with frustration. “I love you, not her.”

But even as he spoke, his thoughts betrayed his irritation. What's with her today? Why is she so damn difficult?

Amelia let out a cold, mirthless laugh. “None of that matters anymore. I’m with the Kingsley family now, and you… you’re the father of Sandra’s child.”

Zachary’s brows furrowed in agitation. “Amy, are you still angry?” he asked, his tone almost coaxing. Inside, however, his patience was wearing thin. So, this little affair with Sandra really hit a nerve, huh? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let Sandra get pregnant so soon in the first place!

“Angry?” Amelia tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “Why would I waste my energy on that? You and I are strangers now.” With that, she turned on her heel, ready to leave him in her past where he belonged.

But Zachary wasn’t done. In a flash, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her sharply into his arms. His grip was firm, almost possessive, and his lips descended toward hers in one swift, audacious motion.

His mind raced. She’s upset because I never touched her, but I slept with someone else. Fine, I’ll throw her a bone. Even if she’s married now, she’s still stunning. Taking the initiative for once won’t kill me–hell, it might even work out in my favor.

His smug train of thought came to a screeching halt with the loud, resounding slap that echoed through the air. Before he could even make contact, Amelia’s palm met his cheek with enough force to snap his head to the side.

Zachary stumbled back, his hand flying to his face as he stared at her in utter shock. His cheek stung, but the hate in her eyes cut even deeper. “Amy…” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. For once, words failed him.