When the Redemption Story Ended, My Mother Became the Villain

My mother was the heroine of a redemption story. The kind who carries a broken family on her back, who, despite being covered in scars herself, becomes a little sun, warming the cold heart of the male lead. She finally "redeemed" him. As a reward, they got married, and then they had me. But the story was far from over. The novel got a sequel. My father was still the male lead. But my mother… she became the villainous ex-wife who used every despicable trick in the book to win him back, only to meet a tragic end, a mere foil to highlight the new heroine's purity and kindness. When my father, in a bid to protect the "wronged" new heroine, slapped my mother in front of everyone and announced their engagement was off, my mother completely snapped. Abandoned by her family, ridiculed by the world, she leaped from a skyscraper. When I opened my eyes again, we were back at the beginning of the story. Don't be afraid, Mom. This time, I'll help you get back everything we deserve. … The day my mother was thrown out of the Thorne estate, she wasn’t wearing her favorite red dress. She always said that red was the color of life, full of passion and fire. But that day, she wore only a thin white shirt, her long hair a mess, the shadows of her lashes hiding the expression in her eyes. Two bodyguards in black suits flanked her, dragging her like a piece of trash. I was five years old. Hearing the commotion, I came out of my room, having to stand on my tiptoes to see over the hallway banister. A woman, her face streaked with tears, was nestled against my father’s side. “Arthur, don’t do this to Miss Vance,” the new heroine’s voice was soft and kind, but every word was a poisoned dagger, aimed squarely at my mother’s heart. “She… she only did it because she loves you too much.” My father looked down at my mother, his eyes filled with nothing but disgust and ice. “Katherine, I gave you a chance.” His voice was low, carrying a weight that permitted no argument. My mother didn’t speak. She just stared at me, her gaze silent and intense. It seemed my father had only just remembered I existed. He frowned and walked toward me. “Orion, come here.” I didn’t move. I just kept looking at my mother. In my last life, it was at this very spot that my nanny pulled me away, forcing me to watch as my mother was swallowed by despair. I was the final straw that broke her. Because she realized that even the child she had nearly died to bring into the world had ultimately chosen her glamorous, powerful father. But this time, it would be different. I ignored the nanny beside me. I ignored the hand my father held out to me. I took off on my little legs, one step at a time, until I was standing in front of my mother. I reached out my small hand and tried, clumsily, to wipe away the tear tracks that had long since dried on her cheeks. “Mommy, don’t cry.” Her body trembled violently. In those empty eyes, a flicker of light finally appeared. Her eyes widened, her lips moved, but no sound came out. And Arthur Thorne, my dear father, his face instantly turned a shade of livid green. “Orion Thorne! Do you have any idea what you’re doing?!” It was one of the countless times he had yelled my full name at me. In his world, I was first the nuisance who competed for my mother’s attention, and later, the burdensome reminder of a past he couldn’t shake. His focus had long since shifted to the new heroine, Serena. Serena tugged at his sleeve. “Arthur, don’t scare him. Orion is still so young. He just… he just can’t bear to leave his mother.” I paid no attention to their performance. I just tilted my head back and looked at my mother. “Mommy, let’s go home.” “Insolent child! Truly insolent!” I heard the old man behind Arthur—my grandfather—hiss, his cane thumping angrily on the floor. My mother was still dragged away in the end, but unlike last time, I didn’t stay at the Thorne estate. I broke free from the bodyguard who tried to grab me and shot out like a little cannonball, clinging desperately to my mother’s leg. “I want my mommy! I only want my mommy!” I wailed, my small body shaking with the force of my sobs. I knew that for a five-year-old, crying was the only weapon. And for a mother who had just lost everything, who had been abandoned by the entire world, her child’s absolute, unwavering dependence was a lifeline. It worked. For the first time, a flicker of raw emotion crossed my mother’s pale face. She knelt, pulling me into a tight embrace. I felt a large, damp patch spread where my head rested against her chest. “Orion… my Orion…” She was crying, a suppressed, desperate sound. My father’s expression was as dark as it was when he was planning a hostile takeover. He started toward me, but my grandfather stopped him. “Arthur Thorne! Look at the mess you’ve made!” My grandfather’s voice was thick with fury. “The boy is five years old! How do you expect him to face a father who tried to drive his own mother to her death?” My grandfather didn’t like my mother. He thought her family wasn’t prominent enough, her personality too flamboyant. But he valued the Thorne bloodline and the family’s reputation above all else. For his son to drive his fiancée mad and abandon his own child for another woman was, in my grandfather’s eyes, a scandal that could threaten his position as heir. In the end, between my crying and my grandfather’s pressure, Arthur Thorne relented. My mother could take me with her. But in exchange, she had to sign an agreement, forever relinquishing any claim to the Thorne family fortune and promising never to set foot in this city again. I saw my mother’s hand tremble, but she glanced at me in her arms and finally picked up the pen. After signing, she staggered to her feet, took my hand, and walked out of that gilded cage without a single look back. The sunlight outside was harsh. I squinted, looking up at my mother’s tense profile. Don’t be afraid, Mom. Last time, they forced you into hell. This time, I will personally drag down every single person who ever hurt us. — The truth is, I was reborn with my memories intact. In my previous life, I chose to stay with my father. I was so naive. I thought that if I could win his approval, my mother could come back to me. I thought that if I was exceptional enough, hardworking enough, he would see her worth and change his mind. I was wrong. In the world of the male lead, the heroine is the only rule. Anyone who gets too close, who tries to divert his attention, is an enemy. Especially the biological child of his ex-wife. He sent me abroad to receive the most rigorous elite education, all for my "own good," he said. In reality, it was to keep me away from Serena, afraid that the daughter of the villainess would contaminate his pure, untainted true love. And my mother, after losing all contact with me, completely broke down. She started drinking, self-harming, retaliating against herself and Serena in the most extreme ways. Finally, to protect Serena from being harassed on the eve of their wedding, Arthur Thorne had my mother committed to a psychiatric hospital. I was only allowed to return to the country for her funeral. By then, I was twenty-five, armed with a degree from a top global university, a rising star on Wall Street. I thought I finally had enough power. I began a frenzied campaign of revenge against Arthur Thorne, using all my knowledge and connections to create public scandals and attack his company. But I was up against the male lead of a novel, a favorite of fate itself. All my efforts, in the face of his plot armor, seemed laughable and pathetic. My career was ruined, my reputation destroyed. In a carefully orchestrated "accidental" car crash, my life, filled with regrets and mistakes, came to an end. As red filled my vision, I thought of that night my mother was thrown out. If… if I had chosen my mother then, would things have been different? If I hadn’t left her, would she have been crushed by despair so quickly? If I had been smarter, sooner, could I have helped her escape that man-eating place? When I opened my eyes again, I was five years old. Back at the beginning of the tragedy. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I want my mother to live, and to live more brilliantly than anyone else. Arthur Thorne, Serena… the debt they owe us, I will collect it, bit by bit, with interest. We moved into a tiny apartment. Compared to the Thorne estate, it wasn't even as big as one of their bathrooms. My mother sold all her designer bags and jewelry just to make the rent. She started looking for a job, but the title of "Arthur Thorne’s ex-fiancée" was like a brand, overshadowing her top-tier education and brilliant track record. No one dared to hire her. I could see her growing more haggard by the day. But when I would stumble into her room in the middle of the night, the light still on, she would just stroke my head and say, “Orion, why are you still awake? Should Mommy sing you a lullaby?” I had to do something. That afternoon, while my mother, exhausted from sleepless nights, was finally napping, I quietly took her phone. I found a number, the number of the only person who had offered me a helping hand in my past life. My grandfather. Using the clumsy, one-word-at-a-time typing of a child, I sent him a text message. [Grandpa, will you still come see Orion? Orion misses you a lot.] My grandfather cared only for reputation, but even so, he had secured me an opportunity to study in my past life. Of course, I wouldn't approach him based on that alone. I took a picture of a practice test and sent it to him. [The boy next door threw away his test papers. Orion got all the answers right!] The innocent words of a five-year-old can be far more moving than the accusations of an adult. Especially when that child can ace a middle school exam. After sending the text, I immediately deleted the records. With that done, I lay back down next to my mother and obediently closed my eyes. Hiding one’s strength is a tactic for dealing with enemies. Right now, I needed to secure a powerful ally for my mother and me as quickly as possible. — My grandfather moved faster than I expected. The very next day, a well-dressed woman knocked on our apartment door. She introduced herself as my grandfather’s personal assistant, Miss Lee. Miss Lee brought all sorts of expensive supplements, toys, and an anonymous black card. “Young Master, this is a small token from the Chairman,” she said with a smile, then turned to my mother, her tone all business. “Miss Vance, the Chairman said that Orion is, after all, Thorne family blood, and he cannot be allowed to suffer. Please take this card. The pin is the Young Master’s birthday. Additionally, the Chairman has arranged a job for you. You can start tomorrow.” My mother stared at the black card, her hands clenched into tight fists. She bit her lip, about to refuse, but I stepped forward and took the card from Miss Lee’s hand. “Thank you, miss,” I said, looking up at her with a sweet smile. “Please tell Grandpa that Orion will be a good boy and won’t cause him any trouble.” My mother was stunned. She looked at me, her expression a complex mixture of emotions. A flash of approval crossed Miss Lee’s eyes. She gave my mother a polite nod and left. After the door closed, my mother couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Orion, how could you… How could you show weakness to them!” she hissed, her voice cracking as she knelt down. “They threw us out like garbage! This is no different from begging!” I stood on my tiptoes and gently pressed my lips to her forehead. “Mommy, this isn’t begging,” I said, taking her hand and speaking each word clearly. “This is the youth Arthur Thorne owes you. This is the child support the Thorne family owes me. This is what you rightfully deserve.” I knew that for a five-year-old to make such a calculated move was nothing short of shocking. But I was terrified. I was afraid of spending too much energy on pretending, of giving up the opportunity to build our strength. I was afraid that growing up at a normal pace would be too slow, that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Arthur Thorne’s persecution of her. I was afraid that my mother, whom I had just gotten back, would once again be consumed by the story’s plot. Even if… she might really think I was a monster. My mother’s mouth opened, as if she were seeing me for the first time. I looked down, fighting back my tears, and pressed the cold black card into her palm. “Mommy, you’re my hero. I don’t want you to be worn down by life every day. I want to make Arthur Thorne regret it. I want to make everyone who looked down on us regret it.” My voice was small, my fingers trembling with fear. I didn’t dare look up at her. If she was scared, if she wanted to push me away, I wanted my last memory of her to be her caring expression. I was pulled into a warm, strong embrace. It wasn't the desperate grasp of someone clinging to a lifeline, but an embrace full of power. “My Orion…” I heard my mother’s hoarse cry. “You… how much have you suffered?” Her thirty-three-year-old arms reached across time and space, holding her twenty-five-year-old soul tight. I broke down in her arms, sobbing. My mother started her new job at the company my grandfather arranged. It was a subsidiary of Thorne Industries. The position wasn’t high, but it was stable and quiet, and directly under my grandfather’s purview. I knew it was a form of surveillance. My grandfather had given us a stable life, but on the condition that we stay in our lane and not disturb the happy life of Arthur Thorne and Serena. Of course I wouldn’t disturb them. At least, not yet. I began to display a "talent" for finance and computers. I begged my mother to buy me a computer, and I spent my days immersed in financial news and coding websites, periodically sending my grandfather updates on my progress via text. I acted like a child who, completely disillusioned with his father, had turned to his grandfather for affection. After I once again pointed out a hidden problem in a project my grandfather had given me as a joke, he gave me a separate card. I used the money to set up an anonymous account and started dabbling in the stock market. With inside information from my past life and my experience fighting against my father, I quickly multiplied the money on the card several times over. In my grandfather's eyes, despite occasional losses, I was maximizing the profits on all my stocks as much as possible. If I could become the story's biggest villain without knowing the future, then with the extra information I had from being reborn, I certainly wouldn't fail just because of a few butterfly effects from my investments. Before entering the stock market, I had already registered an overseas account using my mother's information. Within a year, the account had five million dollars. This was our startup capital, the ammunition for our future counterattack. And my mother, of course, knew all of this. In her eyes, I was a child who had died before adulthood and been reborn, but still needed her protection. That was fine. The dark, dirty path of revenge was one I would walk alone.

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