Dylan's Dad

When Dylan Sullivan took a new type of hallucinogen, I was forced to give myself to him to curb the effects.

Innately fertile, I got pregnant, giving birth to fraternal twins—a boy and a girl—after marrying him.

However, Dylan refused to let them call him daddy, drinking away the nights while staring at the picture of his one true love.

Then, on our tenth anniversary, he locked us up in the basement and burnt us to death.

As it turns out, he remained hung up on that moment when I saved him all this time, stubbornly convinced I intervened when he was vulnerable to satisfy my ambitions.

That in turn drove a rift between himself and his one true love, whose heartbreak led to psychosis and the accident that killed her.

But I somehow opened my eyes to find myself alive, returning to the day Dylan took the hallucinogen by mistake.

This time, I let his one true love have him, while I headed towards the study…

"Hurry, Dr. Jones! Mr. Dylan is getting worse!"

My body shuddered uncontrollably as the butler Levi's voice boomed in my ears, as the agony of being consumed in a blaze still lingers on every inch of my skin.

Even now, I could still hear my twins' screams of despair echoing in that basement.

On top of that, I was caught by surprise. "Dr. Jones…?"

No one addressed me as that ever since I married Dylan Sullivan.

That was when Levi sighed. "It's supposed to be his birthday. Heaven knows how this happened…"

I stopped in my tracks.

So I had been reborn.

Taking a deep breath, I turned toward Levi and said, "Get Lily Bright."

That left Levi stunned. "But, doc—"

"Get Lily Bright!" I repeated bluntly. "Or Dylan might die."

I then watched as Levi hurried away, clutching my chest as my heart pounded.

In my past life, the instant I opened that door, Dylan would leap on top of me like a raging beast, pinning me down.

Levi had been right outside, but completely ignored my cries.

Later on, I got pregnant and married Dylan.

While I believed it was the beginning of a blissful life for me, it turned out to be the continuation of a nightmare instead.

Dylan hated me for 'taking advantage' of him, for taking away his one true love.

That was why he neglected and humiliated me, forbidding our children from calling him daddy.

Then, on our tenth wedding anniversary, he locked up me and the twins in the basement and set fire to the house.

"Mommy!" The twins' cries amidst the inferno broke my heart.

Hence, at the present, I fought back my swelling hatred and lowered my collar, turning in the direction of the study.

If I remembered correctly, John Sullivan—Dylan's father—had been drugged as well.

The Sullivans always had problems producing heirs, and as the only son, Dylan's place was secure even though he was conceived through IVF.

But what if he wasn't