Blurb：
I died betrayed by my housekeeper Mirabelle Cruz, only to wake up on the day she first reported to work. This time, I won’t be fooled by her sinister smile or the royal jelly she offers. I know the truth—every skincare product I use will magically transfer its benefits to Mirabelle, while I age rapidly. My husband Marcus Pembroke brought her into our home, but now I see the malice in her eyes. In this second life, I’ll uncover the dark secrets behind the Larkspur family’s recommendation and turn the tables. Will I break the curse before Mirabelle steals my youth again?
Content：
In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead.
I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper’s face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned.
When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again.
“I genuinely can’t bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?”
My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot.
Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke.
When I open my eyes again, I’m back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. “I’ve been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead.”
Chapter 1
Holding a jar of royal jelly, my housekeeper, Mirabelle Cruz, seemed surprised. “Mrs. Pembroke, this is supposed to keep you young and beautiful. I’m too old to benefit from it. You should have it instead.”
Then, she offered me the jar again. Her hopeful look sent a chill through me.
In my previous life, the moment I ate that royal jelly, I started to feel weak. No matter how much care I put into myself after that, all the benefits seemed to go to Mirabelle instead. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d slipped something bad into it.
This time around, I didn’t dare touch it. I slid the jar back to her. “You can have it.”
After watching her finish it, I went back to my bedroom and dabbed some moisturizer on my face to test my suspicion. In no time, dark spots bloomed across my skin, in the exact same places as the ones on Mirabelle’s face.
As I expected, things hadn’t changed even though I was given a second chance at life. I recalled how, in my previous life, the more skincare I used, the more spots and wrinkles I developed, as if I had aged 20 years overnight.
Shaken, I dumped all of my skincare products.
Mirabelle appeared stricken as she witnessed this scene. “Why are you throwing away such good products, Mrs. Pembroke? These must’ve cost a fortune! If you don’t want them, could I take them? I can’t afford things like this and hardly ever use anything on myself.”
She fished the skincare products out of the trash and hugged them to her chest.
All of a sudden, a thought occurred to me. I hastily took out a bottle of moisturizer and applied it to her face, curious to see if my new blemishes would fade. Unfortunately, the spots on my skin darkened.
Mirabelle patted her own cheeks, beaming. “Oh wow, you really do get what you pay for. My skin already feels tighter and brighter!”
Through the mirror, I caught a flash of malice in her eyes.
Just then, Marcus, my husband, stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
His cold gaze swept over Mirabelle before asking me sharply, “What are you doing? Didn’t I tell you not to let the housekeeper into the bedroom when I’m home?”
Looking at his impatient expression, it struck me that, in my previous life, he was the one who had brought Mirabelle into our home.
He’d claimed she was a first-rate housekeeper who had served the Larkspur family for many years. The Larkspurs were moving abroad, so they recommended Mirabelle to him.
Mirabelle was efficient, and her cooking was exactly to our taste. As soon as she arrived, she had the villa in perfect order, and I was initially very pleased with her.
However, three days later, I began to sense that something was off. Whenever I applied skincare products, dark spots broke out and fine lines formed around my eyes and cheeks. Meanwhile, Mirabelle’s once-blotchy face became fair and smooth, and her wrinkles disappeared.
I went jogging every morning, yet after a week, I found myself putting on weight, my waist thickening with fat, whereas Mirabelle became slimmer and full of life.
I suppressed my anxiety and went to a beauty salon to get the spots removed. Yet, when the beautician lifted the instrument from my face, she let out a shrill scream. Not only had large blotches appeared, but my entire face sagged and wrinkled even more.
I went to a spa for body treatments, but I came home with stretch marks and scars like those from childbirth around my waist. Mirabelle’s skin, on the other hand, only became silkier, her stomach faintly showing abs.
That night, after noticing how I had changed in appearance, Marcus kicked me off the bed.
I told him that I believed Mirabelle was behind what was happening to me, but he merely sneered, “People say women hit a wall and age overnight once they reach a certain age. You’re not even 30, and you already look like an old person. Why are you putting the blame on a housekeeper?”
However, the following morning, his eyes never left Mirabelle’s body. Furious, I fired her on the spot, only to stop menstruating soon after.
I went to the hospital for a checkup and found out I wasn’t just showing signs of early menopause; I also had diabetes and high blood pressure.
Marcus not only mocked my appearance but also openly brought other women to the villa for the night. I was so furious that I had a stroke and collapsed, begging him to take me to the hospital.
Without sparing me a glance, he walked straight into our bedroom with the woman he’d brought home. By the time someone found me the next day, it was too late. I died on the way to the hospital.
Now that I’d been given a second chance at life, I was determined to uncover the cause and never let history repeat itself.
Chapter 2
I avoided Marcus and went to the study.
When I unlocked my phone, I found exactly what I expected—Mirabelle was livestreaming. In my previous life, she had done the same thing, sharing her “day in the life of a rich family’s housekeeper” online.
She even claimed she was going to follow the lady of the house and challenge herself to reverse aging in thirty days, going from 40 back to 20.
At the time, her viewers were in stitches, flooding the chat with comments. “Ma’am, you’d have to be remade from scratch. If you can go back to 20 in 30 days, I can go back to kindergarten!”
When I first came across her stream, I didn’t give it much thought. I assumed she was just attempting to make some money. I never expected her to actually look noticeably younger.
Mirabelle gradually rose to fame online, amassing hundreds of thousands of followers. Netizens demanded to know how she had managed to pull it off. Eventually, someone discovered that Marcus and I were her employers.
By then, I had undergone a dramatic change. However, as the CEO of Hawthorne Group, I still had to attend numerous business events that had been planned months in advance.
Netizens compared my event photos with those of Mirabelle.
“Damn, Mirabelle, are you picking up beauty tips from your employer or draining her dry?”
“I remember the heiress of the Hawthorne family being a real beauty. Her face alone made Hawthorne Group’s shares climb. What happened to her?”
Hawthorne Group was in the skincare and cosmetics industry, so when its CEO seemed to age overnight, its stock price plunged.
I watched as Mirabelle held up the skincare products she’d scavenged from my trash and showed them off to her viewers, claiming they were gifts from me. Then, she announced her 30-day reverse-aging challenge all over again.
A cold dread coiled inside me because my death had happened precisely 30 days after she moved into the villa. I created a throwaway account and left a comment under the sea of mocking messages.
“There’s no way you can do that in 30 days. Do you have another method? Tell me, and you can charge me however much you want.”
Mirabelle plastered a smile on her face, leisurely patting those skincare products onto her face. “I don’t have any other method. I merely do whatever Mrs. Pembroke does. It’ll work if you truly believe in it!”
Before I knew it, more spots appeared on my face, and fine lines formed around my well-cared-for eyes. I immediately checked Mirabelle’s livestream. Her skin looked noticeably fairer and silkier.
“Is it just me, or does her skin look even better now?”
“You’re right! The spots on her face are lighter, and her crow’s feet have faded.”
“She must’ve turned on a beauty filter.”
Mirabelle immediately inched closer to the camera. “I’m not using any filter, and I’m barefaced.”
Looking at her face, a shiver ran down my spine. This was clearly an exchange; she shed her years by stealing mine.
Just then, a desperate thought flashed through my mind. What if I stopped taking care of myself and actually made myself look worse? Would that stop her from stealing my youth?
I started using harsh skincare products until my skin turned red and inflamed. I also quit exercising and gorged on high-calorie junk food every day. In no time, my figure went out of shape.
I kept a close eye on Mirabelle. Yet, much like in my previous life, she continued to get younger. My ruined skin and out-of-shape body didn’t affect her at all.
When Marcus returned from his business trip, he was startled by my appearance. With open contempt, he said, “Rosetta, my company’s anniversary is in a few days. If that’s how you’re going to show up, forget it; don’t bother going. I refuse to be humiliated because of you.”
Mirabelle’s lips curled slightly, yet she feigned concern. “Why don’t you make a trip to the beauty salon, Mrs. Pembroke? I’m sure Mr. Pembroke isn’t thrilled about how much junk food you eat. How can a woman hold on to a man if she lets her face and body go?”
I let out a mirthless chuckle, returned to the study, and called my assistant. “Cancel all my upcoming business events. Also, look into someone for me.”
Chapter 3
I cancelled all my business events and shut myself inside the house. Still, the spots on my face darkened, my hair thinned, and wrinkles covered my skin. Worse still, weakness and blurred vision forced me to go to the hospital.
After studying my test results, the doctor told me I was aging unusually fast, had early signs of diabetes, and had developed presbyopia. “Your condition is extremely rare, Ms. Hawthorne. We’ll need to run more tests.”
Deep down, I knew that no amount of tests could help if I didn’t tackle the real problem. My prolonged absence sparked rumors in high society. Word spread that the CEO of Hawthorne Group might have contracted some strange disease.
Meanwhile, Mirabelle’s account gained over 100 thousand followers as she visibly looked younger every day. In her livestream, she wore yoga clothes and no makeup. Her skin looked fair and luminous, her figure flawless, and she appeared more than ten years younger than before.
“This is insane, Mirabelle! How on earth did you do it?”
“At this rate, she’ll look like she’s in her 20s in less than a month!”
“Why are you still calling her Mirabelle? She’s Belle now. In a few more days, she’ll look even younger than you!”
Mirabelle read the comments with a triumphant smile, swaying her hips as she thanked them.
I, on the other hand, watched in horror as worm-like stretch marks appeared across my abdomen and thighs. The very next second, clumps of hair slid off my head and landed on my shoulders.
Just then, bits flooded Mirabelle’s livestream. “Thank you so much! How did I do it? The good energy here must’ve rubbed off on me.”
I stared at the brittle bundle of hair in my hands and felt something inside me snap. I couldn’t take it anymore. I stormed into Mirabelle’s room like a madwoman, seized her arm, and demanded, “Spit it out! What did you do to shift all of your problems onto me?”
Mirabelle’s scream drew Marcus to her room.
He took one look at me and scowled in disgust, yanking me away from her. “What the hell are you doing? Look at what you’ve become!”
“Marcus, take a good look at me and then at her. She’s only been here for two weeks! Don’t you think something’s off?”
Marcus glanced at Mirabelle. Her skin was creamy, her sports tank revealing a taut, sculpted abdomen, and her long legs perfectly shaped by the cling of yoga pants. A flicker of admiration crossed his eyes.
I sneered inwardly when I noticed that. Sure enough, a leopard couldn’t change its spots.
Mirabelle abruptly dropped to her knees and sobbed, “Mr. Pembroke, I take care of the cleaning, groceries, and cooking every day and have never made a mistake.
“I genuinely have no idea what’s come to Mrs. Pembroke. It’s not my fault she’s getting heavier or losing her looks!”
Looking up at me with teary eyes, she continued, “Mrs. Pembroke, are you lashing out at me because you’re stressed? It’s alright, though. I know we housekeepers are just your punching bags.”
After hearing that, Marcus shoved me to the floor in disgust. “Look at you. You don’t look anything like the lady of the house anymore. In fact, you look worse than a housekeeper!”
The color drained from my face.
Even though our marriage was arranged by our families, we’d known each other since childhood and were practically childhood sweethearts. On our wedding day, he’d vowed before everyone that no matter what happened, he would stand by me.
I gazed at him, recognizing the exact same disgust that had marked his face in my previous life. I warned, “Think carefully, Marcus. Are you sure you want to make an enemy of me for a woman like that?”
Our families were bound by mutual interests. Marcus fell silent, clearly aware of the stakes.
Mirabelle abruptly sprang to her feet and wept, “Mrs. Pembroke, since you can’t stand the sight of me, I’ll resign and leave this instant! I’ll never show my face in front of you again. Happy now?”
She bolted out in tears, and an inexplicable fear gripped my chest.
Chapter 4
In my previous life, I began to age at lightning speed soon after I fired Mirabelle. To be honest, it puzzled me. Mirabelle was only in her 40s, yet I ended up looking like I was in my 60s or 70s. Why was that?
I had only just swallowed my fear when something horrifying struck. All of a sudden, I felt a foreign object in my mouth. When I spat it out, I found two of my teeth lying in my palm.
At that moment, I no longer cared about anything else. I hurriedly texted Mirabelle, asking her to come back.
…
Mirabelle had settled down somewhere and was still live-streaming. The scene of me barging into her room earlier had been broadcast live, and now thousands of viewers were pouring into her stream.
“You latecomers just missed it, but the heiress of the Hawthorne family went ballistic over her housekeeper’s glow-up.”
“Are you sure that was Rosetta? She looked nothing like her; she looked more like a middle-aged woman who’d let herself go.”
Mirabelle received my message and flashed it to the camera with a smug grin. “See that? My employer is begging me to come back.”
Her words sparked a flood of comments.
“Don’t go back, Belle. I’ll send you more bits. We don’t need that measly paycheck anyway!”
“That employer of yours sounds unstable. For your own safety, stay away!”
Mirabelle preened at the camera. “Hear that, Mrs. Pembroke? Everyone’s worried about me and telling me not to go back. If you want to know how I became prettier and younger, beg me for it!
“Maybe then I’ll tell you. Didn’t you say you’d pay any price?” So, she’d known all along that I was watching her stream. My heart sank.
Recalling the information my assistant had uncovered, I sent her a message. “You’re from Montsrutt, right? You never worked at the Larkspur residence.
“I heard your husband died under suspicious circumstances. Shall I keep digging?”
Without the slightest change in expression, she read my message and sighed at the camera. “There my employer goes again, begging me to come back. It looks like she really can’t do without me. I suppose I’ll take pity on her and go back tomorrow.”
When I heard that, I clenched my fists, yet I also felt strangely relieved.
…
However, the following day, moans drifted from the master bedroom next door. Swallowing my revulsion, I walked to the door.
The sight inside struck me like a bolt out of the blue. The woman lying beneath Marcus with a look of pure bliss was none other than Mirabelle, looking younger than ever. The gown I’d commissioned for Pembroke Group’s anniversary celebration lay torn to shreds on the floor, along with used condoms.
It was no wonder my best friend had messaged me, asking where I was and why Marcus had shown up at the banquet with another woman.
Mirabelle met my eyes and smiled sweetly. “Mrs. Pembroke, I’m Isabelle, Mirabelle’s daughter. My mother went back to her hometown and asked me to cover for her for a few days.”
Marcus, on the other hand, hurled the glass of water from the nightstand at me. “Who said you could come in? Get out!
“I’ve already arranged a room for you in a nursing home. You’re moving in first thing tomorrow.”
He slammed the door in my face. Through the crack, I caught a glimpse of Mirabelle’s face twisted with malice and delight. A sharp ache gripped my chest, and I slowly sank to the floor.
In the depths of my despair, I noticed my best friend running toward me. The necklace around her neck swung before my eyes and reminded me of something. My eyes widened, and I urged, “Cecil, quick, get me out of here!”
“Alright, let’s get you to the hospital!”
“No, not the hospital. Take me to the place we went last month!”
…
The following day, I clicked on Mirabelle’s livestream as if nothing had happened and watched as she clasped my diamond necklace around her neck. “Isn’t it beautiful? Mr. Pembroke gave it to me as a birthday present!”
All of a sudden, she let out a shrill scream and then stopped. However, I caught it clearly: a dark spot had suddenly appeared on her porcelain skin. I let out a long, heavy breath of relief.
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