I ended things with my girlfriend, Abigail Bardot, when she was at her lowest. She despised me for it, but three years later, after becoming a CEO with a multi-million dollar net worth, she came after me—an ordinary office worker.
I became the envy of others, but she ruined what had once been a loving and happy relationship.
Three years into our marriage, Abigail began bringing other men home, parading her affairs right in front of me, laughing and flirting with them as if I were invisible. I became the fool she cheated on, but I never got angry. All I wanted was for her to be happy. Yet, Abigail got furious instead. Her nails dug deep into my skin as she yelled, "Are you even a man? Why won't you get mad?" I just stared at the ceiling blankly as I heard their moans through the walls.
But that wasn't the worst part. I wasn't Samuel Gebb from this novel. I had been transmigrated here by the system. In my past life, I was the Heavenly Demon before I read this novel as I was a College student.
There crumpled medical report in my hand revealed something terrible: I was dying. A rare disease, so uncommon that it was named after me—Gebb's disease. The doctors offered me a chance at a trial overseas. It was a slim hope, just a few more years to live.
But with my demonic martial arts and heavenly knowledge, I could easily recover. I vowed to make Abigail realize just how much I hated her for causing my depression in my first life as i read this Novel.
Samuel was nothing but a lab rat, subjected to endless treatments and medical procedures. His body bore the scars of countless needles, and even in the summer heat, he had to cover them with long sleeves.
Just then, my phone rang. "Hey, Samuel…" It was Abigail, speaking in a sultry voice, yet she was just in the next room, too lazy to even speak to me in person.
"Yes," I replied. I stuffed the medical report away and knocked on the door to the next room.
A handsome, muscular man opened it—Ted Simmons, a new trainer at the gym. He hadn't worked in a week since becoming Abigail's new pet. She had given him a car worth more than he could have ever earned as a trainer. Sweat glistened on his body, and lipstick marks were scattered across his neck.
He took a drag of his cigarette and blew smoke in my face, making me choke. He gave me a mocking glance, saying, "I'm going to take a shower. Remember to cook later. She wants to eat at home today."
I ignored him and entered the room. The bed was a mess. Abigail was lounging on an armchair, a cigarette twirling between her fingers, her silk robe slipping off one shoulder. "Take a seat," she said coldly.
A wave of smoke hit me as I approached. Samuel despised the smell of cigarettes. I still remembered the bitter taste from Samuel's memories—burning cigarette butts pressed into his palms as a child, forced to swallow the ashes. The memory haunted me.
I was done bowing to anyone. In my past life, I was the Heavenly Demon, and only my rival could kill me in battle.
But Abigail never noticed, or maybe she didn't care. She glanced at me and tapped the bottle of red wine on the table. "Make lamb chops with red wine tonight. It's Ted's favorite dish."
I nodded blankly, thinking that I would follow the script for now. There was no point in making a scene. My preferences no longer mattered. I would end it all soon. "Then, I'll go make dinner."
Abigail frowned and suddenly snapped, "Didn't you say you had something to tell me? I didn't come all this way to hear you say a few words."
I forced a smile and said, "I was planning to tell you after cooking you one last meal. Abigail Bardot, let's get a divorce." For three years, I had called her honey, baby, and Abi, but now it felt fitting to address her by her full name to bring a clean end to this marriage.
Her face twisted in rage, and the atmosphere grew tense. She grabbed the wine bottle and smashed it over my head. Red wine mixed with my blood as it trickled down my forehead.
The ringing in my mind only intensified. Abigail wasn't done. She picked up the jagged glass and pressed it against my throat. It stung as it dug into my skin. One more push, and it would pierce my neck. In the past, Samuel could have easily brushed off her attacks, but now, weakened by disease, he was as helpless as a lamb being slaughtered.
"I said, let's get a divorce," I repeated, calm despite the danger.
Abigail burst into maniacal laughter. She tossed the bottle aside and gave me a cruel smile. "You want a divorce? In your dreams! You'll never escape from me, not as long as you live."
She grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes, filled with hatred and disgust. The pain in my head intensified. I asked, "Why? There's no reason to stay in this marriage." She had never loved Samuel, yet she kept him trapped here for three years and refused to let him go.
"No," she sneered. "You deserve everything that's happening to you. Where were you when my family went bankrupt, when my parents were dying? You heartless bastard! You ran the moment things got tough! Now, I'll make sure you can never leave. Even in death, I'll keep your body just to have you by my side forever!"
I froze, a bitter feeling rising in me. Three years ago, when Abigail had reappeared in Samuel's life, he had thought it was love. But now, every shred of that love felt like a deep stab to his heart.
"Is this revenge?" I smiled bitterly. She didn't respond right away. Instead, she stood up, walked to the door, and said, "You deserve this. Get up and clean that disgusting wound of yours. Don't let any of your blood drip on Ted's lamb chops!"
I forced myself to stand, tending to my wounds and cleaning the room. Abigail was already in the shower, and Ted sat on the couch, puffing away at his cigarette.
He glanced at me and said, "Samuel, a man should know his place. Abi doesn't want a divorce. It's not because she loves you; it's because she hates you that she won't let you go. The longer you stay, the worse it will be for both of you. You should leave if you have any sense. She doesn't need you. She only needs me."
I remained silent and walked to the kitchen to prepare the lamb chops. Samuel, too, longed to escape from Abigail and leave everything behind. However, he knew that without a divorce, his death would still haunt Abigail. He only wanted to slip away quietly and alone. But I wasn't Samuel anymore—I was the Heavenly Demon, and this woman was the root of all his suffering and the depression that plagued me in my first life.
As I cooked, a sharp pain twisted inside me. This place—once filled with warmth and love—was now a prison of torment. It had been Samuel and Abigail's home, a place of shared memories, now ruined. Abigail had slowly shattered it all, turning every piece of happiness into a reminder of agony. She had invited countless men into the bed she had once shared with Samuel. And Samuel, all he could do, was cook for them after their wild nights, a silent witness to his own misery.