Reborn to the Rich Mother

In my last life, I was the one taken in by the poor family. My sister, Anya, was adopted by the wealthy one.
But Anya didn't even last five years with them. They threw her out, and she died on the streets.
I, on the other hand, earned my way into the country's top university. I went abroad to study with my adoptive brother, Ethan, and together we built a business empire from scratch. Later, with our adoptive parents' blessing, we married and had children. My life was happy, successful.
Now, Ive been reborn. And this time, Anya made the opposite choice.
At the orphanage, she ran and threw her arms around Ethan, calling him "brother." Then she took the hands of his parents and shot me a triumphant look. "You can have the misery of that gilded cage, sister. I wouldn't last a day in that backstabbing world."
I looked at the man who had been my husband, waiting for him to say something. But he just pulled Anya behind him, shielding her.
His eyes, when they met mine, were ice. "Stay away from my sister."
And so, under Anyas gloating gaze, I walked toward the stretch Lincoln.
Anya's words confirmed a chilling suspicion.
She was reborn, too.
Seeing that victorious glint in her eyes, it all clicked into place.
"This way, miss," the driver said, his voice flat. The Prescotts hadn't sent anyone but him. It was the same as last time, when the orphanage director told us to choose, and Anya, then named Annabelle, had stepped forward first.
It had all happened so fast.
"I don't want to live in poverty," she'd declared, her chin high. "Sister, you can have that miserable life for me."
She got her wish. She lived the life of a rich girl, but the smile on her face faded with each passing day.
I climbed into the plush interior of the limo. As the car pulled away, the driver began listing the rules I was to follow at the Prescott estate.
"Did you get all that?" he asked, his shrewd eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
"I did."
We arrived quickly. The villa was a palace of marble and glass. I followed the driver inside.
"Ma'am, I've brought her."
A beautiful woman, seated on a silk sofa and sipping tea, looked up. Her eyes swept over me, analytical and cool. She beckoned to me. "Come here."
"What's your name?"
"Serena."
It was the name the orphanage director gave me. It meant peace, tranquility. A wish for a smooth life.
The woman nodded. "Good. From now on, your name is Serena Prescott." She turned to the butler standing silently by the wall. "Take her upstairs."
"Yes, ma'am."
I followed the butler, my steps silent on the polished marble floors. The banister was carved from rich, dark mahogany. Everything screamed of extravagant wealth.
But this was nothing new. In my past life, I had earned all of this and more through my own hard work. I wasn't impressed.
The butler glanced back at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
He opened a door to reveal a bedroom fit for a princess, all pink and white lace. "Miss, this will be your room. Rest for a while. I'll be back later."
He left, closing the door softly behind him.
I walked in, taking it all in. They hadn't spared any expense on their adopted daughter. The room was a showcase of upper-class taste and luxury.
A thrill, sharp and potent, shot through me.
In my last life, I had to fight my way up with no connections, no powerful family to back me. I did it all on my own.
This time, I had the Prescotts. With their resources at my back, I would forge a path that was entirely my own.
.
My thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the hallway. The door burst open and a basketball flew through the air, smacking me hard on the head.
"Hey, country mouse! Toss me my ball."
The arrogant voice came from behind me. I turned slowly. A boy, around my age but much taller, stood there, chin tilted up, radiating contempt.
If I remembered correctly, this was the only son of the Prescott family, Donovan.
He was a classic rich kidinto extreme sports like street racing and skydiving, with zero interest in the family business. In my past life, he'd had an accident during a race that crushed his legs, leaving him paralyzed. The disability had twisted his already arrogant personality into something monstrous.
"Hello? Are you deaf? I said, give me the ball," he snapped, his voice laced with impatience.
I shook my head to clear it, picked up the basketball, and held it out to him. Remembering the driver's instructions, I murmured, "Here you go brother."
He froze for a second. "Already trying to suck up, huh? Don't think that'll get you a cut of the family fortune." He sneered, snatched the ball, and stalked off.
Over the next few days, I barely saw Mrs. Prescott, and Donovan was a ghost. The butler showed me around the estate. It was massive. When the tour was done, he handed me a schedule, densely packed with classes on business management, corporate finance, and market analysis.
"This is your curriculum, starting tomorrow. Mrs. Prescott has arranged for private tutors. All you have to do is study hard. If you do well, you will be rewarded." He looked at me expectantly. "Can you handle it?"
This was the knowledge I'd had to claw for in my previous life, long after I'd started my own company. To have access to it at fifteen I was ecstatic. "Of course," I nodded.
Another flash of surprise in his eyes. He said nothing more, just went over a few more household rules.
Mrs. Prescott also hired tutors to ensure I didn't fall behind in my regular schoolwork. But I'd learned all of this years ago. It was a breeze.
Within a year, I had absorbed everything they threw at me, from high school calculus to complex business theory.
"This child is a sponge," my academic tutor gushed to Mrs. Prescott. "She's not only mastered the high school curriculum, she's comprehending graduate-level business concepts."
I sat quietly, listening.
"At this rate," the tutor continued excitedly, "she could skip the rest of high school and go straight to a university abroad."
But that wasn't Mrs. Prescott's plan. She wanted me to go through high school with Donovan, then go abroad with him. Officially, it was so we could "look out for each other." In reality, she wanted me to be a leash for her wild, untamable son.
Mrs. Prescott paid the tutor handsomely and then looked at me, a new flicker of approval in her eyes.
"Come here."
She took my hand and sat me down beside her, handing me an acceptance letter. "You've done well. Donovan's grades are a disaster. I need you to help him. I'm not asking for much, just get him to pass."
"Once you both graduate from high school, I'll send you abroad. What do you say?"
She laid her cards on the table, no preamble.
I didn't hesitate. "Thank you, Mother."
Her eyebrows shot up, a genuine smile spreading across her face. She squeezed my hand. "Good girl."
As a reward, she gave me a credit card and a day off to myself. It was the first real break I'd had since arriving. The driver dropped me off in the bustling downtown district.
I hadn't walked more than a block when I saw a familiar figure.
It was Anya. She was standing under the blazing sun, handing out flyers.
The Harris family was poor. I knew they wouldn't have any extra money. It was no surprise she had to work. After all, I had lived that life. Juggling three part-time jobs during the summer while trying to keep my grades up. On top of that, there were endless chores. They always said they treated Ethan and me the same, but they would never dream of letting their precious son lift a finger. I only learned later that they'd adopted me not for a daughter, but for a free laborer.
"Hello, would you like to"
A flyer was thrust in my face. Anya looked up, and her voice died in her throat.
"Serena?"
Her eyes flickered over my designer clothes and clear, well-cared-for skin. A flash of jealousy, quickly masked, crossed her face.
She forced a smile. "You seem to be doing well for yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you. The Prescotts are more dangerous than you can imagine. You'll find out soon enough."
"Oh." My flat response seemed to annoy her.
She immediately launched into a boast. "My new parents are wonderful to me. I'm so happy. And Ethan helps me with my homework every night. Oh, by the way, we were both granted early admission to Northgate Prep this year."
Northgate Prep the same school on the acceptance letter Mrs. Prescott had just given me. It was an elite academy for the rich and powerful, with a few spots reserved for exceptionally brilliant scholarship students.
Last life, Ethan and I were the ones who got those scholarships.
"Our future is only going to get brighter," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "But you you're going to end up dead on the street."
She said it with such certainty.
I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off.
"Anya!"
"Ethan! You're here!" Anya's face lit up as she ran into his arms.
He was holding a lunchbox. "Mom sent me with your lunch. It's too hot out here. Let me take over for a while."
"It's okay, I can do it," she said, though the Harris's would pinch every penny to send Ethan to expensive tutoring while making her work. I knew that script by heart.
"You work too hard," Ethan said, then he noticed me.
"Ethan, this is my sister, Serena. You met her at the orphanage," Anya introduced me.
Ethan's gaze swept over me, cold and filled with a familiar distaste. He ignored me completely, turning back to Anya. "Stay away from people like that. Let's go."
He pulled her away before I could say a word.
"Ethan, why are you so mean? You might have scared her," I heard Anya say.
"Don't be naive, Anya. People like her are trouble. You stay away from her, or she'll find a way to hurt you."
His words were sharp, but they barely registered. I took the credit card Mrs. Prescott had given me and went on a shopping spree. When I emerged from a luxury boutique laden with bags, I saw Anya staring, her face green with envy.
"What's she so smug about?" I heard her mutter. "She's just going to die anyway. Not like me and Ethan. We're going to start a huge company one day."
I smiled. She was so naive.
I returned to the Prescott mansion with my haul. None of it was for me. It was all for Mrs. Prescott and Donovan.
When I got back, Donovan was actually home for once.
He saw my shopping bags and sneered. "Wow, haven't been here long and you're already hauling stuff in like you own the place. You really think our money is yours?"
"Donovan!" Mrs. Prescott's voice was sharp. "She is your sister."
He rolled his eyes. "Since when? I don't have a sister who looks like a hick. It's embarrassing."
He'd always been hostile, so I didn't bother engaging. I just started unpacking the gifts.
"Mother, this is for you." I handed her a box containing a delicate silk scarf. Then I gave gifts to the butler and the other staff who had been kind to me. I saw a look on Mrs. Prescott's face I'd never seen before: genuine appreciation. The staff looked stunned and pleased.
Donovan's face soured. "Tch. You think a few cheap gifts are going to buy everyone's loyalty? As if"
"This is for you, brother."
Ignoring him, I held out the last gift. It was a detailed model of a race car.
"I heard Mother say you like racing. I saw this at the mall and thought of you."
He blinked, taken aback. He mumbled something under his breath and took the box.
Soon, the first day of school arrived.

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