Samantha Hartman was dead.
She’d gone down in a blaze of glory fighting the Ghost Emperor, dragging him to hell with her.
Then—bam—she opened her eyes and found herself lying on a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, sore all over, and a very familiar face freaking out beside her.
“Samantha! You’re awake! Are you okay? Still hurting?”
The girl’s voice was trembling, her eyes filled with tears.
“How could your dad be so cruel? You’re his daughter, for god’s sake!”
Samantha kept looking at the girl, and the clearer her vision got, the more familiar that face became.
Then, like floodgates opening, old memories came rushing back.
Long-forgotten pieces started snapping into place.
Her name was Samantha Hartman. Before becoming a Holy-Grade Exorcist in the Netherworld Realm, she used to live on Earth as a fake heiress in a wealthy family.
At eighteen, Robert Hartman—her violent, hot-tempered adoptive father—beat her so badly she landed in the hospital. That was also when the truth came out—she wasn’t even his real daughter.
But instead of coming clean, Robert kept the secret buried. With her stunning face and the power to attract wealthy suitors, Samantha was a goldmine for the family.
Back then, she lived in constant fear of Robert’s mood swings. She was shy, timid, always scared to say or do the wrong thing.
It wasn’t until he tried to marry her off to a disgusting old man from the King family—who was pushing seventy—that she finally resisted.
That small act of rebellion ended with her back in the hospital. Took her weeks to even get out of bed.
Did Robert show even a bit of regret? Not a chance.
When he confirmed she wasn’t his biological daughter, he doubled down—drugged her, tried to shove her straight into that old creep’s bedroom.
If she hadn’t acted fast and gotten the hell out, she would’ve been ruined forever.
After that, things only got worse.
She was forced to disfigure herself just to survive.
But it didn’t stop there—her true background was suddenly exposed. Robert cut ties and brought his real daughter, Emma, back into the house.
For some twisted reason, Emma hated Samantha to the core. With Robert backing her, they destroyed Samantha’s life piece by piece.
Even her best friend ended up crippled, forced to leave the country and start over from scratch.
…
As the memories hit like a truck, Samantha looked again at the woman beside her. She finally remembered—this was Rachel Benson, her best friend from way back when.
In her first life, when she died, she didn’t move on to the afterlife. Instead, she woke up in a wild, mystical world…
There, she became heir to a crumbling family of exorcists.
She had to claw her way up, living on the edge every day just to survive.
Eventually, she became a Holy-Grade Exorcist.
And now, by some twist of fate, she was back again.
The pain, the helplessness as she’d been pushed off that cliff—it all came rushing back like it had just happened yesterday.
Only difference was, Samantha wasn’t that scared little heiress anymore. She was no one’s puppet now.
Rachel was still sniffling beside her, and the nurses were quietly changing her bandages.
Sure, her spiritual power was only about a tenth of what it used to be, but recovery was just a matter of time.
She wasn’t worried.
Closing her eyes, she began drawing in what little energy remained in her body, gently guiding it to heal her wounds.
After finishing the dressing change, the nurses left, giving the two girls some space.
Then came a loud knock.
“Knock knock knock—”
Rachel shot up to answer it and opened the door to reveal Megan Carter—Robert’s secretary—strutting in in full glam mode, face caked with makeup and attitude cranked to max.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rachel snapped.
She’d known Samantha for almost a decade, and she knew—this so-called high-society life had brought her friend nothing but nightmare after nightmare.Even though her father came from a wealthy family, he had a nasty temper and a tendency for violence. Samantha Hartman had been his punching bag growing up. Her mother acted like she didn’t exist, completely obsessed with her son. That annoying little brother of hers? Always setting her up to get beaten.
People on the outside envied her life as a rich young lady, but they had no clue that even low-level assistants dared to treat her like dirt. In that cold, loveless house, she was worse off than the cleaning staff.
"It was Mr. Hartman who sent me."
Megan Carter didn’t even look at Rachel Benson as she brushed past her and walked straight over to Samantha’s bedside, looking down with that usual arrogant tone.
"Miss Samantha, Mr. Hartman already arranged everything with the Wangs. Once you’re better, you’ll be moving in with them. From now on, you’re part of that family. So keep your head down and don’t embarrass the Hartmans."
Samantha lifted her gaze and stared at Megan’s shoulder. "And what’s that got to do with me? Am I just another item he gets to barter with?"
Megan clearly never took this quiet, useless daughter seriously. She flaunted her new diamond bracelet with a smirk. "You know how Mr. Hartman is. He hates being defied."
"Acts like royalty when he ain’t even fit to be a janitor," Samantha sneered. "Tell him if he’s so into that old man, he can go marry him himself. Leave me out of it."
Megan froze, clearly stunned. This wasn’t the timid girl she used to know—this girl today had fire in her eyes and a voice that cut like ice. Where's the doormat from before?
She’d dealt with Samantha plenty of times before, but never like this. That dismissive tone, the sarcasm—it all felt off. Had Mr. Hartman gone too far this time and punched the sense out of her?
She was about to respond when Samantha suddenly spoke again. "Megan, doesn’t your shoulder hurt lately?"
Her brows knitted. Yeah... her shoulder had been killing her these past days, but even the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with it. How did this girl know?
Samantha’s lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes sharp like a blade. "A baby that’s already formed is still a life. Karma’s real, and it doesn’t forget."
There was something unsettling in Samantha’s jet-black eyes—it was like staring into a storm.
Megan met her gaze and couldn’t explain it, but a chill hit her spine hard.
"A fully formed baby...?" The words hit a nerve. Her expression flickered for a second, like she'd remembered something she didn't want to. Still, she forced herself to look calm.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Megan said quickly. "I’m just here to deliver the message. Mr. Hartman’s been busy, but once you’re out, the engagement party with the Wangs is happening. You’d better behave, or else..."
"Or else what?" Samantha snorted. "Tell him this—there’s nothing I don’t want to do that anyone can force me into."
Megan was so thrown off by Samantha’s sudden backbone that she was speechless for a moment. Was this girl out of her mind? Did she really think she could talk to her like this?
Her tone snapped as she replied, "Fine! Then I’ll just have Mr. Hartman come talk to you himself. Don’t blame anyone when things get ugly."
Megan was convinced—whether crazy or brave, this girl wasn’t the pushover she used to be. But Mr. Hartman wasn’t someone to cross; he’d never pass on something that could give the Hartmans more power. She’d come with good intentions, but if the girl refused to listen, that wasn’t Megan’s problem.
She let out a cold “hmph” before strutting out, heels clicking sharply against the floor.
No one saw it but Samantha—the shadowy, blackened presence perching on Megan’s shoulder, with blood-red eyes locked onto her like a curse.Out of nowhere, the spirit baby jerked its tiny head around like it sensed something. Its eerie, blood-red eyes locked onto Samantha Hartman. Then it grinned—wide and creepy—showing off a mouthful of razor-sharp, ghost-white teeth...
