Reborn: The Counterattack of the Rich Stepmother

In my past life, at the age of 20, I was forced to marry 40-year-old Martin. I saw his gentle and refined demeanor and thought of him as my support, managing the household for him.

But his 'white moonlight' (the woman he truly loved) constantly provoked me, and his children treated me as an enemy. Now, I've opened my eyes again, returning to the day of our wedding. This time, I'll make those who wronged me pay.

1

I was reborn, back to the day I married Martin.

The head of the Green family didn't even bother to give me a proper wedding. It was merely a family banquet, hastily arranged.

The guests were all there to mock me.

Looking around, I saw my uncles still ingratiating themselves with the Green family's influential members.

Martin's two children glared at me with hostility, while his true love approached with a flirtatious sway, raising her glass and stopping beside me, though her eyes were fixed on my husband.

"Congratulations to Miss Smith for marrying such a fine man. I've known Martin for so long, but I've never heard of you. Martin, won't you introduce her to us?"

As she spoke, the room fell silent, everyone waiting for the drama to unfold.

It was just like the last time.

In my previous life, she had asked Martin the same question, frustrated that she couldn't marry into the Green family, so she made things difficult for me.

I had once been born into a noble family, but with my parents' early death, my inheritance had been seized by my uncles.

To secure ties with the Green family, they married me off, a 20-year-old girl, to the widowed Martin.

With no background of my own, I lived on eggshells in the Green household, diligently managing the family and caring for his two children.

However, his children, having been poisoned by his 'white moonlight’s' whispers, despised me from the start.

Whenever something went wrong, Martin would blame me.

One day, his son, with that woman's help, conspired to kill me.

My family, fearing Martin's influence, didn't dare speak a word in my defense.

Thinking of all this, the timid girl from my past life was gone.

I stood up calmly and answered.

"I'm just from a small, humble family, nothing like you, the famous actress Jones. It's no wonder you've never heard of me."

Satisfied with flaunting her charms, she drained her glass and turned to leave.

"You see? Emma Jones still hasn't given up on Martin. I doubt Gloria Smith will have an easy time in the future," someone whispered.

Yes, but this time, I'd love to see how long they can keep dancing.

2

After the banquet, Martin called me over, his children standing beside him.

"Gloria, this is my son Andy Green and my daughter Angela Green. From now on, they're your responsibility, and the household matters are yours to manage."

In my previous life, I took over the household, supervised his son's studies, and disciplined his daughter's early romances, yet I never earned a word of praise. Too afraid to spend his money, I neglected myself and turned into little more than an unpaid housekeeper, working myself into illness.

"Martin, I'm only eight years older than them. I'm still a child myself. How could I possibly manage such a large household?"

He frowned deeply at my words.

"Then what can you do?"

I gently held his hand, softly saying.

"I'm still so young. I don't think I'm capable of handling such a big family. How about giving me some money so I can go study and improve myself?"

Before I came into the picture, it had always been Emma who took care of these two children.

They idolized her glamorous life as a movie star.

While other rich kids were studying, they were learning makeup and dating from her.

In my past life, I spent so much effort trying to correct their bad habits, but they only saw me as an obstacle.

This time, instead of wasting my energy on them, I'd rather focus on bettering myself.

Martin didn't respond, but the two children, overhearing my suggestion, shot me approving looks, clearly pleased they could continue to follow Emma.

3

Not even half a month passed before the two children got into trouble.

They went to visit a classmate's home, who was also a famous family in B City.

"Andy beat up my son in my own home. You'd better come and apologize, and take my boy to the hospital!" a furious mother called me.

In my previous life, it had always been like this—every time they caused trouble, they gave out my phone number.

I would apologize, cover for them, and do my best to smooth things over.

Martin remained blissfully unaware of his son's capacity for causing trouble, and when things eventually blew up, he would place all the blame on me.

I already knew the story behind this incident. A classmate had taunted Andy for being motherless and mocked his father for keeping a mistress.

These rumors were widespread in their circle.

I had foolishly felt pity for the children and defended them, only to offend the influential White family.

This time, I calmly told the caller.

"I'm sorry, but I've just married into the Green family. I don't have any authority yet. You should take this up with Martin."

Hearing my words, Andy stomped his feet in frustration.

But this matter was no longer my responsibility.

I picked up a finance book and immersed myself in it.

Reclaiming my parents' inheritance was my priority now. The Green family's dirty affairs could be Martin's problem.

4

That evening, the children were brought back by Emma.

She showered them with comfort, accusing the White family of being unreasonable.

From the tone of her voice, it was clear she had offended the White family deeply. Instead of apologizing, she'd lashed out at them, emboldened by Martin's backing.

When the three of them returned, they gave me sarcastic looks, but I pretended not to notice.

During dinner, Emma proudly boasted to Martin about how she'd handled the situation, but Martin only frowned slightly, not taking it too seriously.

Yet, I knew the White family held grudges. In the future, every little ailment or injury their son suffered would be blamed on this day's conflict.

In my previous life, I had been stuck between the White family's threats and Martin's complaints.

This time, Emma had taken on that burden herself, and I felt a weight lift off my shoulders, even eating an extra bowl of rice.

"You know, your wife is completely useless," Emma said as she twirled her immaculately manicured fingers through her hair. "Your son was insulted, and she did nothing to stand up for him. If I hadn't stepped in, who knows how badly he'd have been humiliated. He is your son, after all. You should be thanking me."

Martin smiled gently, reassuring her, "I'll come over tonight. Didn't you say you wanted that resource? I'll get it for you."

I stifled a laugh.

This was always how it went. Every time Martin came home, Emma found some excuse to whisk him away.

So I hadn't had a single intimate moment with Martin by the time I turned 30 in my last life.

This time, I should thank her for that.

The servants had told me before that Emma had once helped Martin out during a rough patch, so he was always at her beck and call.

The Green family, however, never allowed her, an actress, to officially enter their home, so she could only remain his unattainable 'white moonlight.'

She clung to this favor, continuously trying to make me give up my position as his wife.

As for her, I had no plans to confront her.

Even the strongest relationships can't withstand a decade of constant strain.

5

A year had passed, and Martin's two children had fully accepted Emma as their stepmother.

Over the past six months, every time they caused trouble, their superstar stepmother would clean up after them, which only encouraged their unruly behavior.

The 13-year-old, in particular, was growing up without any sense of right and wrong.

While other children their age were receiving elite education, Martin's children were making a name for themselves in the entertainment industry.

Even young Angela had started following in her father's footsteps, managing the upkeep of trending celebrities at such a young age.

Emma, on the other hand, was at the peak of her career as an actress, with endless opportunities ahead.

But now, instead of honing her acting skills, she was stuck cleaning up after two children every day.

She hadn't landed a new role in over half a year.

Every time something went wrong, she'd protect Martin's reputation, only to be rewarded with new enemies. In exchange, she'd act coy and get herself a new purse or a bit of pocket money.

In my previous life, during this same period, I was wholeheartedly arranging the best tutors for them.

I taught them horseback riding, golf, and took them to elite social events.

Yet, they never appreciated it and would mock me instead.

"You, with your small-minded ways, don't know anything about high society. Let me tell you, the events Auntie Jones takes us to, those are real galas—full of celebrities!"

No matter how hard I tried to explain that I was doing it for their own good, they never accepted it.

Now, they've finally gotten their wish, attending those high-society events they longed for.

5

That day, Martin, who hadn't been home in a while, returned.

He wanted to discuss which school to send his children to.

In my previous life, I had chosen an elite institution for them, costing tens of thousands of dollars annually.

Thanks to a year of my careful guidance, the school made an exception and accepted them due to their achievements in horseback riding.

Once enrolled, however, they constantly lagged behind academically.

Martin would blame me for choosing a poor school, claiming it ruined his children's future and wasted money on the most expensive school.

Little did he know, if not for my connections, the headmaster would never have allowed them in.

It was a coveted school, with many people clamoring for a spot.

Yet, they saw it as a slight, only harboring more resentment.

I suppressed the urge to mention the school and instead pretended to be deep in thought.

"I'm not sure. Maybe we should ask Miss Jones for her opinion."

Martin gave me a suspicious glance before turning and leaving the house.

The next morning, after a night away, Martin returned, having chosen the same school from my past life.

This time, it was Emma who had pulled some strings.

Martin came back reeking of her perfume, his shirt stained with the lipstick Emma liked to wear.

The strong fragrance on his body made me cough.

"Miss Jones really is careless, ruining such an expensive shirt with her lipstick," I commented.

For the first time, Martin looked at me seriously, making my skin crawl.

"Gloria, you're my wife. Are you really getting jealous over something so trivial?"

I stifled a laugh, thinking he might have caught on to my ploy. But no, he just thought I was meddling.

"Of course not. Miss Jones is so kind. With her around, I feel reassured," I said sweetly.

He was appeased, tossing me a stack of cash for spending money before leaving, not forgetting to add, "This is what I like to see—my wife being understanding and mature. You'd do well to be a smart woman."

7

After enrolling in the school, the children performed even worse than in my previous life.

Their grades hit rock bottom, and they were ranked last in the entire class.

They also failed miserably in extracurricular activities.

It wasn't long before they realized they didn't quite belong in the same league as the other wealthy heirs.

When Martin received a call from the school, he had never imagined his children could perform so poorly.

The teachers even subtly suggested he might want to find a school better suited for them.

For the first time, Martin began to feel dissatisfied with Emma.

I watched as he angrily dialed her number, questioning her.

"What have you been doing with the kids? The teachers say they haven't mastered any of the necessary skills. They're practically saying they need to have their intelligence checked. Didn't you swear that this school was great, and the kids were doing well?"

They lost their mother when they were young and their father didn't care about them.

Emma, who barely had any education herself, had done the best she could.

Hanging up, Martin's gaze fell on me.

"What are you doing all day? You don't manage anything around the house. Weren't you a graduate of this school? The headmaster is an old friend of your father. Go talk to him and let him know we're willing to invest in the school."

In my previous life, I had indeed swallowed my pride and approached the headmaster with an offer from the Green family to donate a new gymnasium.

The headmaster was insulted, feeling that I had demeaned the institution's values, and never spoke to me again.

Martin, of course, blamed me for the failed negotiations, hurling money at my face when I returned, forcing me to pick up each bill on my knees.