I Hated Him, Now I Cherish Him

Chapter 1

Outside, a torrential downpour hammered the villa, lightning split the sky, and thunder boomed. The wind battered the floor-to-ceiling windows with a deep, muffled thud, sending a sound that shuddered through the walls.

From the cavernous master bedroom, a faint, choked sob drifted through the heavy air.

Gavin Vance, sprawled on a thin floor mat, lifted his head at the sound. Across his chiseled, handsome face with its sharp, cold lines, a flicker of almost imperceptible hesitation darted and vanished.

"Delilah?"

They had been married six months now. This arranged business alliance had shackled them both. Gavin was too capable, his fists too iron.

After the wedding, the Dupont family had methodically clipped his wings, ripping away most of his authority over the core industries.

And Delilah Dupont? She had always swooned over gentle, bookish scholars. She looked down her nose at Gavin's ruthless decisiveness and the icy, commanding aura that clung to him like a second skin.

They couldn't stand the sight of each other. A spat every three days, a screaming match every five. Their relationship had frozen solid into something brittle and bitter.

Earlier that day, they had clashed in another explosive row. In a storm of fury, Delilah had banished him to the floor for the night. Now, silence was the only answer from the bed.

Gavin frowned, pushed himself up from the mat, and yanked back the blackout curtain. In the next heartbeat, his pupils shrank.

There, twisted in the sheets, Delilah's brows were knotted in agony. A cold sweat glazed her forehead, and her face was bleached the color of bone. She looked trapped in some unseen torment, writhing under waves of pain.

Instinctively, his brow furrowed. He reached out, fingers brushing the air as he moved to check her temperature to see if she was feeling unwell. But before his fingertips could even graze her skin, Delilah's eyes flew open.

Gavin's hand froze midair. His voice hardened instantly, and he jerked his hand back, his words clipped and steeped in his usual frigid distance.

"I didn't mean to offend you." He had only half-drawn back his hand, the words still hanging unfinished.

Delilah shot upright, her hand shooting out like a trap to clamp onto his wrist. Her eyes blazed red with a wild, trembling disbelief surging in their depths.

"Gavin?"

Her fingertips trembled as she pressed them against the warm pulse at his neck, feeling the strong, steady beat of life beneath his skin. Then, ever so gently, she caressed his cheek.

Warm. Real.

Gavin, alive and breathing.

How could this be?

Her husband, Gavin, had died long ago.

In her past life, three years into their marriage, the titans of the business world had joined forces to crash the Dupont family.

The Dupont higher-ups were all armchair strategists, spineless cowards who cowered and refused to fight back. Only Gavin had stood alone against the storm, shouldering the impossible weight and leading his team to clash head-on with every enemy.

But at the critical moment, the Dupont family patriarch, foolish and blind, swallowed the slander of sycophants and cut off all of Gavin's funding and support. In the end, his team was drained of resources, and they crumbled in a total rout.

The legendary titan who had once dominated the business world fell, never to rise again.

After Gavin's death, their enemies surged forward like a tidal wave, swallowing the entire Dupont empire whole and wiping it from existence.

When the Dupont family finally collapsed into ruin, she refused to endure the shame. Before the wolves could claw at her door, she ended her own life with her own hands.

And yet here she was...

Awake. And staring at a very much alive Gavin.

A tremor ran through Delilah's entire body, and her voice escaped in a hoarse, shattered whisper. "Gavin, what year is it?"

The man before her abruptly yanked his wrist back, dodging her touch.

Gavin assumed the pampered and willful Miss Dupont was playing some new game. His eyes remained cold as he answered flatly, "2020. Did a bad dream scramble your brains? You've forgotten the year."

The icy, distant tone sliced through the fog in her mind, snapping her into razor-sharp clarity.

'She had been reborn.'

Reborn three years into the past, back to the sixth month of their marriage, when the tragedy had yet to unfold.

Her gaze fell to the thin, pitiful mattress on the floor, and a sharp ache seized her heart, spreading a dense, bitter pain through her chest.

In her past life, she had detested this arranged marriage, loathed Gavin's domineering, cold nature, and couldn't stand the sight of him with every fiber of her being. Even on the rare nights they shared a moment of intimacy, if he accidentally hurt her, she would mercilessly kick him out of bed and banish him to the cold, hard floor.

For three full years of marriage, the vast majority of the time, she lounged on the plush, soft bed while Gavin curled up on the freezing floor.

Delilah closed her eyes, her heart drowning in guilt and regret.

In that past life, she, and the entire Dupont family, owed Gavin a debt they could never repay.

Given a second chance, she wanted nothing more than to cherish him, to protect him with all her strength, and to repay every debt she owed him from her past life.

Others only saw his cold, overbearing exterior, but she alone knew the truth.

He was a man of indomitable integrity, a hero who had stood guard over the Dupont family until the bitter end, her one and only, irreplaceable husband.

"Gavin," Delilah softened her voice until it was barely a whisper, "come to bed."

Gavin, who was just bending down to lie back on the floor, froze mid-motion.

It was the first time in half a year of marriage that she had called his name so tenderly, with no resentment, no disgust, and not a trace of mockery or icy indifference.

He lifted his gaze to the woman on the bed.

Delilah was half-reclined against the headboard, her eyes red-rimmed and her face still bearing the remnants of vulnerability. Her loose silk nightgown had slipped off one shoulder, revealing a swath of fair, delicate skin. Her features were soft, and hidden in her gaze was a thread of tenderness he had never seen before.

The sight hit Gavin like a thunderbolt. His Adam's apple bobbed, a tightness coiled low in his belly, and a scorching mix of raw desire and simmering anger surged through him.

His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a rough, husky rasp. "Fine."

He knew Delilah all too well.

The high-and-mighty Miss Dupont always did exactly as she pleased. When her mood was bright, she'd condescend to let him share her bed. When it soured, she'd toss him aside without a second thought.

To her, he was nothing more than a convenient tool, summoned and dismissed at her whim.

In the past, she'd only ever made a gesture of goodwill when things were calm between them. But today, after that blazing fight earlier? Her sudden olive branch was downright bizarre.

What did she take him for? Some casual plaything to toy with?

Gavin swallowed the dark fury roiling in his chest, his face a mask of ice as he climbed onto the bed.

In the next heartbeat, he caged her beneath him, his hand with its long, calloused fingers sliding with practiced ease beneath the hem of her nightgown.

The scorching heat of his palm seared against her skin, sending a violent shudder through her entire body.

His ragged, hot breath ghosted over her ear and the curve of her neck.

Delilah froze, stunned for a few seconds, and then it hit her: he'd completely misunderstood!

Her cheeks blazed crimson.

Mortified and frantic, she planted her hands against his solid chest and shoved with all her might.

"That's not what I meant!"

A flicker of impatience crossed Gavin's eyes. He swiftly captured her flailing hands, pinning them above her head with one firm grip.

Hovering over her, his expression frosty, he sneered, "You invited me to bed. What else could that possibly mean? Or did you actually intend for us to sleep like some ordinary married couple?"

"Why not?" Delilah looked up at him, her gaze earnest and stubborn.

Gavin let out a low, scornful laugh, his voice cutting like ice. "Earlier today, in front of all the servants and assistants, you declared you wanted a divorce so you could marry that promising young hotshot from a top university. Did you forget so quickly?"