Widower Asked Me to Take Her Place

For our first anniversary, my boyfriend gave me a twenty-dollar scratch-off card.

When I scratched off a five-million-dollar jackpot, I screamed, ready to throw my arms around his neck. But my best friend, Vivian, grabbed my wrist.

Valerie, look closely! This card is fake. Hes running a loyalty test on you! To put it bluntly, the guy doesn't trust you for a second!

She urged me to dump him. Who wants to be with a cheap, broke guy who uses fake junk to test real feelings? Honestly, for a split second, it made perfect sense.

But just as I was about to march downstairs and slap that stupid ticket right into Tristan's face, a tiny, furious voice echoed in my head.

"Are you kidding me? Is my idiot mother really about to break up with my dad again?"

"Does she have any idea that my dad is the sole heir of the Mercer dynasty? Literally the crown prince of New York's elite?"

"All she has to do is pass this stupid test and she gets a fifty-million-dollar reward. Instead, she's going to listen to that toxic snake and end up dying in misery."

What? Tristan is the heir to a hundred-billion-dollar empire?

Why didn't you say so earlier!

When I first realized the ticket was fake, Vivian's words had sunk into my mind like a poisoned needle.

"A man with actual capability would never run a messed-up test like this," she whispered, her face tight with mock concern. "Deep down, he thinks you're just some gold-digger! Why do you think he's still waiting down there under the streetlamp? He's waiting to see how you react. If you tell him you won, he'll just shrug it off as a joke, feeding on your disappointment. If you don't tell him, he'll look down on you from his moral high ground, watching you embarrass yourself trying to cash a fake ticket!"

Down on the street, Tristan stood quietly beneath the flickering yellow glow of the lamppost. His head was bowed, his face shadowed, making his expression impossible to read.

For the past year, he had never bought me anything expensive, and I had never minded. I loved him for who he was. But if this was all a twisted game...

Seeing me hesitate, Vivian pressed harder. "A relationship without trust is just a house of cards, Val. A guy with a mind this dark isn't going to stop at one test. Do you want to spend the rest of your life walking on eggshells? Can you really tolerate being played like a fool? You need to go down there, expose him, and slap some sense into him!"

Taking a deep breath, I gripped the scratch-off and walked toward Tristan.

"Tristan, you..."

Before I could finish, that squeaky, immature voice rang out again in my mind.

"Are you kidding me? Is my idiot mother really about to break up with my dad again?"

I whipped my head around, but the street was empty. The voice was coming from inside my own stomach.

"Does she seriously not know my dad is the Mercer family heir, worth a hundred billion dollars?"

"In her past life, she listened to that toxic witch Vivian. She threw the card in my dad's face, screamed that he was a cheap hypocrite, and broke up with him on the spot after a massive fight. Then Vivian swooped in. She played the gentle, caring angel, married into the empire, and became the billionaire's wife. And what happened to my idiot mom? Vivian ruined her career, dragged her name through the mud, and had her baby taken away. My mom ended up committing suicide in a dingy, rented room."

"I got reborn just to end up with a mother who doesn't learn her lesson!"

I froze, ice water running through my veins.

The idiot mother was me? I was pregnant?

And Tristan was a billionaire prince?

The little guy in my belly let out a heavy, dramatic sigh.

"Mom, get your act together! It wasn't easy getting reincarnated. Don't ruin it this time!"

"Right now, right this second, go hug my dad. Pretend you're ecstatic and tell him you won the jackpot!"

"As long as you pass this test, my dad has a fifty-million-dollar bonus and a massive luxury penthouse waiting for you. If you don't pull it together, that toxic bitch gets it all..."

I looked up at Tristan. Suddenly, the streetlamp wasn't the only thing shining. He practically glowed with the light of a golden god. He wasn't just a hidden heir: he was my personal ticket to paradise.

Tristan watched my face fluctuate between tears and a hysterical grin, his brows knitting together. "Val? What did you want to say?"

I took a deep breath, threw my arms around him, and buried my face in his chest. "Tristan, you won't believe how lucky we are! That scratch-off you gave me? We won! Its a five-million-dollar jackpot!"

His body stiffened instantly. "You... actually told me?"

"Of course I did! You're the love of my life, and you bought the ticket. With this money, we can finally build our future together."

Up on the steps, Vivian's face practically shattered. She marched down, her voice sharp. "Valerie, stop being so brainless! I told you, that card is fake! Tristan is just playing you!"

So what if my golden goose wanted to run a little security check before raining cash on me? I was more than happy to play along.

Inside my belly, the little guy gasped. "Wait, my mom actually used her brain? But now that the toxic snake exposed it, how is she going to save this?"

Just sit back and watch your mother's award-winning performance, I thought back.

"Wait... you can hear me?" the baby wondered.

I ignored him, focusing instead on the ticket. My eyes welled up with tears right on cue. "It... it's a fake?"

"Val, let me explain," Tristan pleaded, his composure slipping.

"I thought we finally made it," I choked out, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, letting a single tear roll down my cheek. "I thought you wouldn't have to work three jobs anymore just to save up for our future."

I let out a shaky breath, wrapping my arms tighter around his waist. "But it's okay. I know you were just trying to make me happy. It was nice to dream for a second. It just means you'll have to keep working hard, and I'll be right there beside you."

I buried my face back into his chest, letting out soft, muffled sobs.

Tristan cupped my face, gently wiping away my tears. "You sweet, silly girl. The ticket is fake."

"But you passed the test. This is your real reward."

He slid something into my palm.

I looked down. An Amex Black Card, and a key fob to a penthouse overlooking Central Park. I swallowed hard.

"What... what does this mean? Tristan, where did you get this?"

"My family is actually the Mercers of New York," he admitted softly. "I had to hide my identity while dating. I want to bring you home, but my family required a test first. You have no idea how terrified I was that you'd leave me for five million dollars. Thank you, Val. I promise to love you with everything I have."

Vivian turned deathly pale. "Valerie, did you not hear him? He's been lying to you from day one! He's just playing with you. Men like him never marry girls like us! Throw that trash back at him! Don't sell your soul for money!"

The little guy in my belly snorted. "My dad is the sole heir of the Mercer line. The old patriarch is dying for a great-grandchild. If my mom spills the pregnancy news right now, the family gates will swing wide open for her."

Seeing Vivian reach out to snatch the card and keys, I quickly shoved them into my pocket, covering my stomach. "But I'm already pregnant with his child. I don't want my baby growing up without a father."

Vivian froze.

Tristan looked like hed been struck by lightning. "Val... what did you say? Youre pregnant?"

When I nodded, he immediately pulled out his phone, made a rapid-fire call, and scooped me up in his arms, walking toward a sleek black Maybach that had quietly pulled up to the curb. "I'll have the wedding planned immediately. First, we go to the hospital."

The baby purred happily. "Not bad, Dad. But don't celebrate too early. That toxic snake Vivian isn't going to give up easily. She already knew your true identity and has been plotting to tear you two apart so she can take my mom's place."

Resting in Tristan's arms, I gently caressed my stomach. But I have you now, don't I, my sweet reborn baby?

After the hospital confirmed the pregnancy, the Mercer patriarch immediately gifted us a sprawling estate in the Hamptons as a welcoming present.

Everything was picture-perfect. Except for Vivian. And my baby was about to give me a very grim warning about what she had planned next.

After the scratch-off incident, I moved out of my cramped apartment and into the estate.

Vivian pretended to be happy for me, but she bombarded my phone with toxic texts daily.

"Val, do you really know Tristan? Families that rich have crazy rules. Can you actually survive in that world?"

"They only care about pedigree. You think you can secure your place just with a baby? Watch out, they might just take the kid and kick you to the curb!"

"Men born with silver spoons don't stick to one woman. High-society guys are all players."

Every time she tried to plant seeds of doubt, my little guardian angel chimed in.

"She's just trying to make you paranoid, Mom. My dad is completely devoted to you, and the Mercer family has strict moral codes."

"In the last life, my dad only ended up with her to make you jealous. He loved you to death. In fact, after you died, he took his own life."

"Don't play into some tragic romance trope. Tell Vivian that even if the Mercers only want the baby, you'll still be set for life on child support alone!"

Grinning, I picked up my phone, switched on the video call, and slowly panned around my massive, thousand-square-foot master bedroom.

"Vivian, look at this place. Just for being pregnant, they gave me this estate and an unlimited allowance."

"Even if they kick me out after the birth, they'll have to pay me millions in child support. I'm set for life either way."

"And if I have a boy, he'll inherit the entire Mercer empire. Who cares if I marry into the family? As long as I have the money, I'm happy."

"You shouldn't worry about me. Worry about yourself. I heard your deadbeat, gambling father is looking for you again?"

Vivian's face flushed with a mixture of rage and humiliation. She slammed the phone down, hanging up on me.

Why didn't I block her? Because my sweet baby told me that villains like Vivian are like roaches. If you don't face them head-on, they just skulk in the dark. It was much more satisfying to keep her close and drive her insane with my success.

A few weeks later, Tristan took me to a high-society charity gala. It was my official debut as his wife.

Since Tristan didn't want a rushed wedding and wanted to spare me the stress while pregnant, we had quietly registered our marriage and planned a grand ceremony for the following year.

Before we left, my little guy gave me a stern warning.

"Be careful tonight, Mom. In our last life, Vivian set you up at this very gala, causing a massive public scandal that ruined your reputation."

What did she do? I asked mentally.

"In the past life, you snuck in as a waitress to see my dad after finding out you were pregnant. Vivian spilled red wine all over your dress and led you to a private changing room."

"She had hired a man to wait for you there. When my dad walked in, you were disheveled and caught in a compromising position. He was blinded by rage. With Vivian whispering poison in his ear, he didn't even believe the baby was his."

"You were thrown out into a torrential downpour, got hit by a car, lost me, and ended up with a crippled leg. Vivian is definitely going to sneak in tonight to pull something similar."

I shuddered, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck.

At the gala, sure enough, I spotted Vivian. She was dressed in a server's uniform, holding a tray. When she saw me, she marched straight over.

"Oh, Valerie, that dress is stunning. Your new man must be incredibly generous. How much did you have to do to get it?"

"I wish I could find a sugar daddy like that. Some of us actually have to work for a living."

She spoke just loudly enough for the surrounding socialites to hear. Several wealthy women exchanged mocking glances, instantly branding me as a gold-digging interloper.

I remained perfectly calm. "Oh, this dress? It was a gift from my mother-in-law, Beatrice Mercer. She actually designed it herself when she was pregnant with Tristan."

My response delivered a double blow: it confirmed my marriage to the heir and showed I had the mother's full backing. The socialites' snickers instantly vanished, replaced by polite, flattering smiles.