Rebirth: A Second chance at life-Chapter 40: Aurora slapped again.

Her so-called mother had called yesterday, and Luna knew it wasn’t out of concern. She would never reach out unless she had an ulterior motive.

Luna’s fingers tapped idly against the armrest as she pondered. What were they plotting now? And more importantly, how were they planning to use Grandma against her?

She could ignore it. After all, she wasn’t the original Aurora. The weak, forgotten girl who once craved their love no longer existed. But something deep inside tugged at her, refusing to let go.

Perhaps it was the remnants of Aurora’s memories, the lingering emotions of a girl who had once longed for acceptance. Or maybe it was something more.

Her grandmother.

The only person who had ever shown Aurora kindness in her whole lifetime, even if Luna had taken over this body, she couldn’t deny the weight of that bond. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was duty. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a way to honor the girl who had given her a second chance.

Whatever Lily wanted, whatever Grandma had left behind—Luna would find out.

And if the Smiths thought they could manipulate her like before, they were in for a brutal awakening.

She slid into her Aston Martin, the engine purring to life as she steered toward Mayfair Gardens—the pinnacle of luxury in all of Summer City. The towering mansions, lined with pristine gardens and guarded gates, exuded an air of exclusivity.

She reached the entrance and drove through without hesitation, seamlessly entering the housing complex. The security guard at the gate barely spared her a glance, letting her through without question—the sleek Aston Martin and its registered plate number were enough proof of her identity.

As the wrought-iron gates slid open, she pressed down on the accelerator, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise silent surroundings.

Guided by the remnants of the original Aurora’s memories, she maneuvered through the familiar streets, her gaze fixed ahead until she reached the most opulent villa in the district—the Smith family estate.

Aurora stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the polished stone driveway. Her gaze swept over the grand villa before her, and a smirk tugged at her lips. The mighty Smith family, revered and feared by many, yet within these walls, they were nothing more than cowards—stingy, cruel beasts who preyed on the weak.

Her fingers trailed over the sleek surface of the car door before she shut it with a soft thud. Although most of the Smith family hadn’t laid a hand on Aurora directly, their silence had been just as damning. Not a single soul had spoken against Lily or Veronica when they tormented a helpless child. No one had intervened when she had been locked away in the cold, dark basement, left to rot in isolation.

They had turned a blind eye to her suffering, pretending it wasn’t happening, as if their willful ignorance absolved them of guilt. Pathetic.

Aurora stood at the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the familiar yet suffocating estate. Lifting her hand, she knocked on the heavy wooden door, the sound echoing through the silent halls. A few moments passed before the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman dressed in a crisp maid uniform.

The woman’s gaze swept over Aurora, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. She was undeniably beautiful, exuding an air of elegance and authority, yet something about her felt oddly familiar. Assuming she must be one of Veronica’s acquaintances, the maid straightened her posture and asked politely, "May I know whom you are looking for?"

Aurora’s lips curled into a cold, knowing smirk. Martha. The head maid of the Smith family. One of the many who had taken pleasure in tormenting the former Aurora, treating her like nothing more than a speck of dirt beneath her shoes.

The fact that Martha didn’t recognize her immediately was almost amusing.

"Well, well... if it isn’t my daily tormentor," Aurora mused, crossing her arms. "I never imagined you’d forget me so soon, Martha. That’s disappointing. frёewebnoѵēl.com

Martha’s eyes widened in horror as realization struck her like a slap. She took a shaky step back. "You... you are that fo—Aurora?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

This... this couldn’t be the same girl. The fat, pathetic, sniveling creature they had ridiculed and tormented for years. No. The girl before her was breathtakingly beautiful—her once frail body now refined and elegant, her presence commanding and sharp. She wasn’t just thinner; she exuded power, confidence. It was unsettling.

Martha’s hands clenched into fists as resentment coiled in her chest. How? How had she changed so much? According to Miss Veronica and Madam Lily, Aurora was still the same—useless, fat, and thrown away like trash by Alexander.

Jealousy burned through her veins like poison, twisting her face into a sneer.

"Hah. So what if you lost some weight? Trash is still trash," Martha scoffed. Her eyes gleamed with malice as she folded her arms. "What are you doing here, you useless bitch?"

Martha smirked, mistaking her silence for weakness. "Didn’t Master Alexander finally throw you out like the disgrace you are? And now look at you—crawling back here to suck the blood of our masters again. Hah. Pathetic."

She muttered something under her breath, words dripping with contempt.

Aurora smirked, and tilted her head, the cold amusement never leaving her gaze. If only Martha knew—this was no longer the girl she used to push around.

Martha, still caught up in her delusion, turned and gestured lazily. "Madam is in the hall."

Aurora didn’t move immediately. Instead, she took a slow step forward, forcing Martha to meet her eyes. For the first time, the maid saw it—the raw, unshakable power lurking beneath those golden-brown irises.

"You bitch! How dare you show your eyes to—"

Martha’s words were cut off by a brutal impact.

SMACK!

A loud crack echoed through the entryway as Aurora’s palm collided with Martha’s face, sending her reeling. A sharp cry of pain left the maid’s lips as she stumbled back, and before she could even regain her balance—

Thud!

She crashed onto the cold marble floor. Blood trickled from her split lip, and a single tooth clattered to the ground beside her.

Aurora’s cold, unwavering gaze bore into her. "A dog shouldn’t bare its teeth in front of its owner," she said, her voice smooth yet dripping with authority.

Martha’s eyes went wide in shock, pain, and sheer disbelief. She had spent years looking down on Aurora, tormenting her, treating her as less than dirt—never in her worst nightmares did she think the weak, timid girl she used to slap around would strike back.

"You... you hit me!" she shrieked, pressing her hand to her swollen cheek.

Aurora crouched slightly, her golden-brown eyes locking onto Martha’s with a deadly glint. "And?" she drawled lazily. "That was me being merciful. Next time, Martha, if you so much as breathe in a way I don’t like, I’ll break more than just your pride."

Martha flinched at the promise in her tone.

Aurora straightened, dusting off her hands as if the filth had transferred onto her. "Now," she said, her voice returning to its usual cool indifference, "get out of my way."

Aurora watched Martha scurry away like a wounded rat, clutching her swollen cheek as she wailed in exaggerated pain.

"How dare you hit me?! You wretched girl! Madam will make you pay for this!" she screeched, running straight towards the grand hall, her cries echoing through the villa.