I spent three million dollars renovating that restaurant, and on opening day I signed it away for five hundred thousand.
All because of what happened in my last life, when my pregnant best friend heard my restaurant was opening and came to show her support.
I made a point of having my husband, a state-banquet head chef, cook her a few of his signature dishes himself.
And after a few bites, my best friend suddenly clutched her stomach and screamed.
"There's something wrong with this food. My stomach hurts so much!"
Before the ambulance could even arrive, she was hemorrhaging, and the baby was dead in her womb.
Everyone cursed me as a heartless businesswoman who killed for profit.
My husband was torn apart by the online mob until his reputation was in ruins, and in his despair he jumped to his death.
My mother-in-law took the shock so hard that a sudden heart attack killed her.
The restaurant went under, my husband and mother-in-law died one after another, and I sank into a depression I couldn't climb out of.
My best friend, meanwhile, won everyone's sympathy over the miscarriage and made a fortune off her livestreams.
The next time I saw her, she looked at me, ruined and broke and with nothing left, and gave a soft little laugh.
"My dear best friend, thank you for inviting me to eat at your place. Otherwise the dead baby in my belly would've gone to waste."
Now I'm living it all over again.
My best friend, belly swollen with pregnancy, arrived at the door of my newly opened restaurant, her face bright with excitement.
"Girl, I heard your restaurant was opening, so I came all the way out to support you!"
I glanced at the buyer's name on the restaurant transfer contract and gave a faint smile.
"Sure. I've been waiting for you."
1
Seeing that I'd welcomed her, Gwyneth Fox let the corners of her mouth lift, a flicker of smugness in her eyes.
The next second, she pouted and complained at me, all mock reproach.
"Hope Henson, you're really something. Opening a whole restaurant is a huge deal, and you didn't even tell me ahead of time."
"If I hadn't seen someone reshare your opening ad online, I wouldn't even know your new place opened today."
"We've been best friends since we were kids. Here I am, seven months pregnant, coming all this way just to support your restaurant, so you'd better have that state-banquet chef husband of yours make me a few of his best dishes to make it up to me."
I looked at her, gave a faint smile, and said nothing.
In my last life she did exactly this, leaning on our years of friendship to put me on the spot, first blaming me for not messaging her privately about the new opening.
Then, riding that momentum, asking to have Dale James cook for her personally as a way of making it up to her.
I hadn't meant to trouble her. She was so far along, after all, and getting around wasn't easy, which was the only reason I hadn't mentioned the opening.
But since she'd come all this way, I hadn't had the heart to refuse, so I gave in to what she wanted and let Dale cook her a few of his signature nutritional dishes himself.
And it was that one decision that ruined Dale, a state-banquet head chef, and drove him to his death.
Remembering my husband from that last life, who always loved me and protected me, and my mother-in-law, who treated me like her own daughter, both driven to their deaths by Gwyneth's online mob, I couldn't stop my hands from curling into fists.
This time, I will not repeat that mistake.
Without a flicker of expression, I tucked the contract away and pointed at the two people trailing behind her.
"Gwyneth, are these two friends of yours?"
Two people had come in behind her.
One held up a camera, running a livestream, while the other talked animatedly into the lens.
"Hey, everyone, today I'm taking you to check out a hidden-gem restaurant that just opened, where the head chef works at a state-banquet level. The owner's best friend is seven months pregnant and still came all the way to support them and taste the food. Let's see in a bit just how good the cooking here really is…"
Gwyneth gave an awkward little smile and explained to me.
"Right, they're friends of mine. They run a food channel and have quite a following online."
"I brought them along on purpose. I wanted them to do a live promo of your restaurant on the spot, so your place gets more exposure and business picks up down the line."
Every word out of Gwyneth's mouth sounded like she had my interests at heart, as if she'd worn herself out worrying about me.
But I was the only one who knew that the two people she'd brought weren't here to help promote anything. They were here to frame me.
In my last life, they came into the restaurant behind Gwyneth exactly like this, livestreaming the whole way.
After her miscarriage, they were the first to spin the story on the livestream, laying it on thick.
"We were invited here to promote this restaurant, and instead we happened to film the whole thing, the owners using cheap ingredients to poison their customers for dirty money, making a pregnant woman miscarry right in front of us."
"So much for a state-banquet chef and a devoted best friend. They're just a heartless couple who kill for money. Anyone who walks into a place like this is asking for trouble!"
With everything twisted upside down like that, the livestream shot straight to the top of the trending topics, the clips went viral overnight, and the restaurant was forced to close.
Dale James, whose cooking people had praised his whole life, had his reputation destroyed in a single night, and in his despair he jumped.
When my mother-in-law heard, a heart attack took her that same night.
And Gwyneth, over the miscarriage, became the victim the whole internet pitied.
She started livestreaming and pulled in millions in tips and donations within a few hours.
It wasn't until I saw Gwyneth again that I learned the baby in her belly had already died a month earlier, killed inside her by her own sleeping around.
Terrified her husband would find out, she'd paid off those two influencers to put on this whole show.
It buried the fact that she'd been sleeping around.
And it let her frame us at the same time, turning her own child's death into an enormous payoff for herself.
In my last life, they climbed to the top of the world over the bodies of my family.
This time, I'm going to make them dig their own graves.
