My Wife Killed Me Now I Own Her Rival

The first time, I built my life on a desperate lie.
I stole the identity of a rich mans son.
I spent half a lifetime shoring up that deception, constantly looking over my shoulder, consumed by fear.
It ended exactly as it should: abandoned by everyone, betrayed by my own wife and her family.

This time, the lie dies here.
Let the gilded cage rot. The rich boy's life is a trap.

1

The whisper was still ringing in my ears, cold and clear as mountain air.

Youre useless to me now. Just help me cash in the insurance, darling.

And then I woke up.

My body ached with a familiar, deep fatigue. I looked around. I was back in the cramped, dusty living room of my childhood home in the Flats, the low-income neighborhood I grew up in. I blinked, momentarily disoriented.

How was I here? I was dead. Pushed. Gone.

My body felt smaller, lighter, but the ache was the same. The chronic, grinding soreness of a body that was overworked, underfed, and perpetually fighting the cold. My skin was rough, my clothes threadbare.

I realized: I was back. Id been reborn.

In my past life, the Beaumontsthe family whod lost their golden boyhad finally tracked me down. To them, I was a rough diamond they needed to polish. Id fought tooth and nail to marry Finns girl, Sloan, cutting off the real, deep connections I had left, all for the shallow promise of status. I wondered if they felt relieved after I died. If the pressure was finally gone.

I dragged myself to the peeling wall calendar. The date was exactly one week before the Beaumonts staff would descend on the Flats. I remembered the motorcade of black SUVs, the gaggle of sharp-suited men whod filled the tiny, pathetic yard.

Theyd asked me, frowning at the grime, if I was the child who lived here.

Terrified of being left alone, terrified of the responsibility, Id choked out, No.

Theyd assumed I was the missing heir, their lost Asher Beaumont. I realized then, and later confirmed, that they had simply picked up the closest child who fit the rough age and location. They had the wrong kid. That mistake forced me to live in constant, crippling fear of discovery.

This time, if they came, Id answer, Yes.

Let someone else take on the gilded cage. I preferred the dirt.

2

A few days back in the Flats, and the bitter memories of that hardscrabble life were already fading, replaced by the grim reality of needing to eat. All I could think about was money.

In the past, the Beaumonts hadnt been generous. They were embarrassed by my roots, constantly trying to compensate for their loss while simultaneously looking down their noses at my "lack of refinement." They pushed endless prep courses on me but kept my wallet empty.

I needed to see if the endless, agonizing studies and lessons Id been forced to endurethe things I thought were uselesscould actually give me a head start this time.

My stomach rumbled. First, food. I scavenged in the tiny, overgrown yard for anything edible. After eating, I started cleaning. Id been living in the opulent Beaumont mansion for so long that my old home felt like a literal slum. If I was going to stay here and build a real life, it had to be a tolerable space.

In the late afternoon, after a full day of work, I returned home.

And there they were.

A column of polished black SUVs and a dozen men in dark, conservative suits. The entourage was the same, filling the small yard, making the whole street look ridiculous.

The lead man, a severe-looking older guy, frowned at me. You the boy who lives here?

I stood up straight, shoulders back, and answered clearly, forcefully.

Yes. Whats it to you?

Thats it, I thought. No more gilded cage. Poverty isn't a crime.

The man looked at my clothes, my scraped knuckles, and then merely waved his hand.

Take him.

3

Same question, different answer, and the result was identical.

I was being dragged back to the Beaumont estate. How could they mess up twice? I had tidied the house, cleaned the yard, and started making plans to hustle for cash. Now, I was being uprooted again.

In my first life, my total lack of funds was my ultimate downfall. After I stole Finns fiance, Sloan, she discovered I had no real capital, only a generous but capped allowance. The family abandoned me, and Sloan cut me loose, leading to the insurance scheme and the cliff.

Stepping inside the sprawling foyer, the atmosphere was instantly toxic and familiar: Finn, the younger brother, frowned, radiating petulance. Paige, my older sister, looked at me with an expression of polite revulsion. Mr. Beaumont wasnt present, but Mrs. Beaumont stood ramrod straight, all rigid posture and forced composure.

Youve got the wrong person. I am not a Beaumont. Send me back, I stated flatly.

This time, Mrs. Beaumonts reaction was different. She didnt show the subtle annoyance of the past life. Instead, she rushed forward and pulled me into a tight, tearful embrace. Oh, my darling boy. Youve been through so much. I wont let them send you back.

Ah, I realized. In my first life, she assumed my terror was greed. This time, she thought my rejection was trauma and disinterest in material wealth.

I was still wondering why answering Yes didnt change my destiny. Was this a fixed loop?

I was escorted to my roomthe same room as before: the first floor, right by the staff wing. "Easier for the help to attend to you," was the official line. I was the one who suffered on the streets, I was the one who was brought backyet I was the one they had such a massive problem with.

Last time, I constantly demanded compensation for my lost childhood. This time, Id be quiet, keep my head down, and save enough money to leave permanently. I refused to be a burden or a point of contention.

4

I found Paiges room and knocked, entering before she could answer.

Paige, despite her initial coldness, was the only one in the family who never truly looked down on me in the past life. She was one of the few who tried to help, even if grudgingly.

I didnt mince words. I need to borrow some money. Ill pay you back. Every dime.

What for? she asked, setting down her phone with a sigh.

To get out. To start my own life so Im not underfoot. I need seed capital.

She sighed, a sound of deep, resigned helplessness, but she wrote me a check. A generous amounttens of thousands.

I took the money and immediately had a driver take me straight back to the Flats. No one at the Beaumont house asked where I was going.

My real mother, Elaine, was living under the brutal thumb of her own mother and my deadbeat father, a drunk and a gambler whod quickly run through any money Elaine earned. In my past life, Id cut ties, believing I had to sever everything. But Elaine had sent me money, bits and pieces, when I was struggling most in the Beaumont house. She was my true family.

I found her working in the community garden. She was still heartbroken that I had been taken. Seeing me made her face light up with a genuine joy I hadnt seen on any Beaumont.

Asher, my baby, youre safe! Go back and live your good life. Dont worry about me, she insisted, pressing my face between her calloused hands.

I waited until my father was drunk and passed out, then quietly took Elaine. I rented a small, safe apartment in the city, gave her the money, and promised to visit often. I forbade her from ever going back.

Then, I snuck back to the Flats. Under the cover of darkness, I hiked up the back mountain trail. The very trail that, in my previous life, was discovered to be a botanical goldmine soon after I married Sloan Rhodes. My mother had given me five thousand dollars from the sale of a small plot on that mountain to help with the wedding expenses, money my father immediately gambled away.

This time, I was getting there first. I knew what was there: rare herbs, wild ginseng, and premium fungi that no one in the Flats understood the value of. This was my seed capital, my true exit ticket. I had to monetize it before the big companies discovered the tract.

5

That night, I went back into the city, carrying a heavy burlap sack.

I knew exactly where to go: Stonehaven Botanicals. In my past life, Sloan had mentioned it only in hushed, reverent tonesan exclusive, old-money operation whose owners were untouchable, even by the prestigious Rhodes family. I knew they specialized in the exact high-end, wild-harvested material I had.

I walked in, found the older man at the counter, and laid the sack on his pristine oak desk.

Im here to talk business, I said.

The boss, a shrewd-looking man, chuckled. A young man like you? What kind of business? He glanced quickly toward the back room, a move I barely registered.

I have superior-grade, wild-harvested botanicals. I want a long-term contract. I dont know market price, but I expect a fair deal. And I have one condition: cash only, and I need it immediately. I rubbed my fingers together. I knew I was playing a dangerous game, dealing with people the Rhodes family couldn't even get an audience with.

The boss smiled. Let me see the material.

He took the sack, walked to the back, and told me to wait. When he returned, he had a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills. It was more than I had expected.

The materials are excellent, young man. Ill buy whatever you bring. We wont cheat you.

I counted the money, nodded, and left quickly. Finally, I had the capital I needed.

I arrived back at the Beaumont house to find the whole family waiting in the grand salon.

Where were you? Mr. Beaumonts voice was a gravelly demand.

Getting my bearings. Just looking around.

Insubordination. Paige will see to your social education. You will not embarrass this family. He stood and walked away.

The mandatory education.

In my first life, Id desperately tried to learn finance and management to prove I deserved the family wealth and a good wife. It failed. The Beaumonts had been grooming their own for years; I was clumsy and slow. The rich kids laughed at my nouveau riche attempts.

Give me the cash. Ill handle the lessons myself, I said.

Finn and Paige openly scoffed. I knew I wouldnt get the cash.

Youve never managed money. Youd just squander it. Tell us what you want to learn.

Fine, I thought. If I have to play their game, Ill choose my own weapons. I remembered the useless but hyper-specific skills Sloan had forced me to master to impress her powerful business contacts.

Auto Racing, Equestrian, Archery, and Golf. I want to start with those.

The entire roomMrs. Beaumont, Finn, and Paigewas stunned into silence. These were high-status, networking-heavy sports, not management degrees. This was the way to build genuine, valuable connections, and, more importantly, money.

6

Paige recovered first, a mischievous smirk touching her lips. Finn, the younger brother, tried to probe. Dont you want to learn the family business, Asher? Get into corporate?

In the past life, my answer had been Yes, I want to learn. That led them to believe I was trying to steal Finns inheritance, which only hardened their animosity and severed my access to independent funds.

I refused this time. Finn looked genuinely surprised. The heir apparent was a smooth operator, raised in the elite bubble, always calculating the angle. Paige, though she protected Finn, didn't have his ruthless competitive edge. I knew I had to watch Finn like a hawk.

Fine. Youll start training immediately to temper your spirit. Your father is hosting a gala next week to formally announce your return. Don't be a liability.

I spent the week training furiously. I also used some of my botanical stash to negotiate an apprenticeship at Stonehaven Botanicals. They agreed to teach me herbalism and pharmacology in exchange for regular shipments.

The night of the gala, I walked downstairs in dark jeans, a crisp white button-down, and a decent jacket. Last time, Id dressed in the most expensive black tie I could find, trying too hard to be a Beaumont. I ended up looking like a costumed monkey, providing the guests with endless entertainment. This time, Id learned the lesson: In this circle, confidence is currency. Casual is powerful.

I grabbed a plate of canaps and retreated to a quiet corner of the garden. I was virtually invisible.

Last time, my awkward attempts at networking had driven Mr. Beaumont's guests away early. Tonight, my absence meant everyone was relaxed.

Sloan, Finns voice cut through the quiet. My brother is back.

I looked up. Sloan Rhodes. She was stunning, a captivating trophy, exactly why I had been so obsessed with her. She was new money, but her family was a rising power. She was undeniably attractive, but beneath the polish was a ruthless ambition I knew all too well. She was the second child in her family, eclipsed by an older sister, and she was desperate to climb. That desperation, I knew, was what led her to methe eldest Beaumont son. She needed a ticket to the top, and I was just an expendable launchpad.

I sank deeper into the shadows. I was not playing that game again. If Finn and Sloan got married, maybe theyd be blissfully happy. That was his problem now.

7

I stayed hidden for half the evening.

In my first life, I would have been swaggering around, trying to introduce myself, a spectacle for the guests. This time, my low profile meant a much smoother evening. It was as if I didn't exist at all.

Asher, Finn, Paige. Come with me. We have an important guest.

This was new. This didnt happen last time. Maybe my past awkwardness had shut down this opportunity.

A woman was seated across from Mr. Beaumont, radiating a power that dwarfed his own seasoned gravitas.

Thank you, Ms. Stonehaven, for honoring us with your presence.

Ms. Stonehaven? Kinsley Stonehaven? The heir to the Stonehaven empireold wealth, far-reaching influence. The kind of person Sloan had spent years trying to get a meeting with. Her presence here was monumental. Paige quietly whispered to Finn: "The Stonehaven family runs this city. Their heir, Kinsley, is ruthless. She cleared out all the old relatives and took over the firm herself."

Mr. Beaumont clearly wanted an alliance. Was he vetting both Sloan and Kinsley for Finn?

I didnt know this person from my past life. My best bet was to stay silent.

Kinsley's eyes, sharp and dark, landed on me.

Mr. Beaumont, she said, her voice like silk over steel. Your son is dressed quite simply. Does the Beaumont estate not treat its children well?

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