Reborn as the Substitute Bride to the Disabled Tycoon

The biggest laughingstock of City Q, Summer Knight, was dead.

She died on her birthday.

Just before her death, her own sister, Isabella Knight, tricked her into signing an organ donation form, then dragged her onto an operating table. No anesthesia. They carved out every usable organ while she was still conscious-torturing her to death in the most brutal way.

As for James Carter, the man she thought she loved? After swindling her out of the inheritance her mother left her, he turned around and gave it to Isabella-as an engagement gift.

And there those two were, kissing right in front of her lifeless body, wrapped around each other and mocking her without a shred of remorse.

It was only in her final moments that she finally saw that trash couple for what they were.

She realized then that the only person who ever truly cared for her was Alexander Barron.

He never cared that everyone called her "slow"; he married her just to keep her safe and give her a happy life. And what did she do? She killed him-with her own hands-by poisoning his drink.

In that last second, everything became painfully clear to Summer. She had been so, so wrong.

"Alexander Barron. If there's a next life, I swear I'll protect you."

.

"Alexander!"

Summer jolted awake from the nightmare, tears streaming unchecked down her face. The searing pain, as if her heart had been torn out, still twisted deep inside, making her whole body tremble.

She looked around, stunned. No cold metal table, no blood-spattered walls-she was back in the Knight family house. In that tacky, over-the-top bedroom they called "fancy."

But. wasn't she dead?

"Mom, there's no way I'm marrying Alexander Barron! They say he's hideous, cruel, and hates women! Who knows how I'd end up if I married him!"

"I'm the medical prodigy of City Q! I'm destined for greatness-why would I waste myself on some powerless, ugly nobody? If I marry anyone, it'll be the future heir of the Barron Empire!"

A shrill voice pierced through the air from downstairs.

Isabella.

The woman Summer wanted to tear apart with her bare hands.

Was she saying she didn't want to marry Alexander?

Wait.

Summer scrambled over to the calendar.

The date stared back at her-exactly one year earlier.

It hit her then.

She had come back.

Back to the night before they drugged her, knocked her out, and forced her to marry Alexander in Isabella's place.

Alexander Barron. Alexander.

Memories flooded her-each one sharper and more painful than the last. Just hearing his name felt like a knife twisting in her chest.

Her lashes trembled; fresh tears welled in her eyes.

Alexander, this time, I'll marry you. And I'll protect you, no matter what.

She caught her reflection in the vanity mirror-and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity. Dressed in clashing red and green, face slathered in clownish makeup.

She used to believe Isabella's "styling" made her look like a fairy. Now? All