Evan held his breath. He remembered the girl—just a glimpse, back at the victory party filled with cheers. But now, in this world, Sienna didn't recognize him—or at least, that's what Evan had thought.
Laras and Sienna sat across from him. Laras offered a polite smile.
"Mr. Evan, thank you for taking the time."
Evan nodded. His eyes briefly flicked to Sienna, who had remained silent.
"I'll get straight to the point," he said. "I want to know how Sienna is doing after… everything that happened."
Laras turned to her daughter. Sienna remained quiet.
"We're doing fine, Mr. Evan," Laras finally answered. "I had planned to take Sienna abroad, but… she refused."
Evan frowned. So, in this world, Sienna stayed?
"Why?" he asked the girl directly.
Sienna looked at him. Her dark eyes were cold. There was veiled hatred in them.
"Because I want to stay here. Close to the man who destroyed my family."
Evan froze.
So… Sienna did recognize him.
His heart began to race. A chill spread from the back of his neck to his fingertips.
"Sienna, what do you mean?" he asked softly, trying to stay calm.
Sienna kept her sharp gaze on him.
"Papa died because this company was taken from him," she said, firm and without hesitation. "And Uncle Evan was the one who took it."
Evan was speechless.
Laras quickly interjected. "Sienna, that's enough! You can't speak like that!"
But the girl didn't look away from Evan.
"I haven't forgotten, Uncle. I remember your face. I remember that night."
Evan swallowed hard. That night? What happened that night? In this world, he had never even met Sienna before.
He needed to know more. But how?
"Don't change your number, Uncle Evan!" Sienna's voice rose in anger. Her eyes welled with tears, but her voice was steady. "When I grow up, I'm going to kill you just like you killed Papa!"
Evan's heart pounded.
What?! Sienna had his number?
His mind raced. In this world, he had never met Sienna.
But… if she had his number, that meant she had received his business card.
At Hendra's funeral?
Then… part of his past life still played out the same way?
"Sienna, that's enough!" Laras gripped her daughter's shoulder, her face filled with apology. "Mr. Evan, I'm so sorry. Sienna is still young—she doesn't know how to control her emotions."
But Evan barely heard her.
His fists clenched. One big question haunted him:
"If Sienna still remembers me, what really happened to my other life?"
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his heart. He couldn't afford to react rashly.
"Sienna, who told you that?" he asked in the calmest tone he could muster.
The girl glared at him, her eyes red. "Papa told me before he died! I heard everything! Papa couldn't take it because his company was stolen! Papa died because of you!"
Laras again tried to calm her daughter, but the girl pushed her hand away.
"Sienna, that's enough! I'm sorry, Mr. Evan. She's just a child," Laras said, looking at Evan awkwardly.
Evan rubbed his temples. So, from Sienna's point of view, he was still the 'killer' of her father. The only difference was… in this world, he hadn't played an active role in Hendra's company acquisition.
But what difference did it make? The company still fell. Hendra still died.
And now, Sienna was still glaring at him with pure hatred.
Evan exhaled. Even after the world changed, that sin still clung to him.
"Sienna," he said gently, "I never meant to hurt your father."
"You're lying!" Sienna shouted. "Just wait! I will get my revenge!"
Laras finally managed to pull her daughter away. The girl's hateful gaze stayed locked on him until she was gone.
Evan slumped back in his seat.
This curse wasn't just about reliving his youth.
It placed him in a world where he held no power—but bore the same guilt.
—
Evan stared blankly ahead. His mind was a mess.
This curse didn't just rewrite his life path—it rewrote how people remembered him.
Sienna still hated him, even though in this world, he wasn't the one who had crushed Hendra.
Hendra's company still collapsed. Hendra still died—and Sienna still blamed him.
So… was this world really different?
Or was he simply erased from the top?
His phone vibrated. A message from the lawyer.
Lawyer: Mr. Evan, sorry—I forgot to mention. Mr. Hendra's child received a small portion from the acquisition. The money is currently managed by a guardian appointed by their family.
Evan narrowed his eyes.
Sienna received money from the acquisition?
He thought for a moment. In the previous world, Sienna had gone abroad. But now?
His hand trembled slightly as he typed a reply.
Evan: Who is the guardian?
A few seconds later, a reply came in.
Lawyer: An aunt from her mother's side. Her name is…
Evan waited. But the message didn't come immediately. He stared at his screen. "Typing…"
Lawyer: Sorry, Mr. Evan. I just remembered—the legal guardian isn't her aunt. It's… someone Mr. Hendra personally appointed before he passed away.
Evan frowned.
Evan: Who?
The message came. Short and clear.
Lawyer: Laras.
Laras? Evan repeated the name in his head. The woman who had just been here.
Laras was Sienna's legal guardian?
—
Days passed with the same rhythm.
Evan, who once handled major projects, now had to get used to working on small assignments that were far beneath his level.
At first, he was frustrated.
Once seated near his father at the head of the table, he was now just another employee—preparing reports and presentations for people who used to work under him.
But one thing hadn't changed: his methodical and perfectionist work ethic.
Every small project assigned to him, he completed flawlessly. His reports were always well-structured, his proposed strategies practical, his timelines precise.
Supervisors—who once reported to him—began praising his work.
"Evan, this report is crystal clear. The presentation yesterday really impressed the client. Good job!"
"You adapt quickly. Not everyone can work this neatly."
Even his father began to take notice again.
One day, after a monthly evaluation meeting, his father patted his shoulder.
"You've been working well, Evan. I see your progress. Keep it up."
There was pride in his father's voice.
But Evan only gave a faint smile. Progress? No. This wasn't progress. This was regression.
He had already been in a higher position, handling bigger deals. Now? He had to start from the bottom again.
But he knew one thing:
If he had risen once, he could rise again.
Over time, Evan's hard work began to pay off.
Though he was initially given only small projects, his consistent, meticulous performance made people take notice.
His reports were always accurate. His strategies, effective. Every project he led finished on time—often even earlier.
His supervisor—once his subordinate—began trusting him with more responsibilities.
"Evan, this project requires deep analysis. I know you can handle it," Johan said one day, handing him a bigger task.
It wasn't his old position, but it was the start of a return to the top.
Gradually, Evan gained access to more complex projects.
Each small win earned him more trust from superiors and colleagues.
Even his father began inviting him to more discussions.
"Evan, I'd like your thoughts on the expansion strategy outside the city."
Bit by bit, he was returning to the company's decision-making circle.
Evan knew the road back to his former position was still long.
But at least now, he was walking in the right direction.