After Rebirth, She Picked The Right Guy
Everyone knew Caroline loved Jacob, the frail man in a wheelchair, even giving up her chance at marrying into wealth for him.
She devoted everything to his recovery, enduring hardship and humiliation to help him stand again.
When he finally recovered, they were praised as perfect together-until danger came.
Faced with saving her or her sister, Jacob chose the latter without hesitation. Only in her final moments did Caroline realize his heart was never hers.
Reborn, she made a different choice, choosing power over love.
When Jacob later begged, she looked down coldly. "I have no interest in men who can't stand on their own."
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Chapter 1
A bullet tore through Caroline Palmer's head, and her life ended just like that.
When she opened her eyes again, she heard her mother, Amanda Palmer, speaking.
"Carrie, Vivian, both of you, come over here."
Every nerve in Caroline's body locked up.
She'd heard those exact words before.
Caroline looked up. The familiar living room came into view.
Her mother sat comfortably on the couch while two files rested on the table in front of her.
Not far from her stood Vivian Hayes, her half-sister, in a plain white dress. She looked painfully skinny, nothing like the glamorous socialite Caroline remembered.
She'd been reborn.
One year before she died.
This was the same day their mother asked her and Vivian to choose who they'd marry.
At this point in time, Vivian hadn't married Braydon Lewis. And she herself hadn't become Jacob Lloyd's wife either.
"Carrie?" Amanda looked at her with concern. "Why are you standing there like that? You've been staring into space this whole time. Hurry up and come sit down."
Keeping her emotions hidden, Caroline walked toward the couch.
The two files lay open across the coffee table.
Braydon's profile sat on the left side.
He led the Lewis family and held power in both high society and the criminal world. Born into wealth and status, he became known for making fast and brutal decisions.
The photo attached to his file showed a man with cold, sharp features. His thin lips were pressed together, while the look in his eyes carried a chilling coldness.
Beside his file was Jacob's.
He was the Lloyd family's second son. Unlike Braydon, he was known for being gentle, refined, and cultured. However, his health had been poor since childhood, and he spent most of his life in a wheelchair.
The photo showed him wearing a faint smile. His eyes looked soft enough to melt anyone's heart.
"Carrie, you should pick first," said Amanda.
Looking at those two files, Caroline felt nothing but irony.
In her previous life, her mother had also told her to choose first.
Vivian was the daughter her father had with his mistress.
For years, Vivian lived in their home like Cinderella.
Her father spoiled her out of guilt toward her and her mother, while Vivian always acted obedient no matter how she was treated. Because of that, she received every good thing first.
Even when it came to choosing a husband, she got the first choice.
Her mother had always hoped she would marry Braydon, the most powerful man in the city.
But in her previous life, she stubbornly chose Jacob instead, even though he couldn't walk.
For three years, she stayed by Jacob's side during his physical therapy. She searched everywhere for skilled doctors who could treat him.
She spent almost all the money her parents gave her. During winter, she even knelt in the snow to beg for a prescription.
As the treasured daughter of the Palmer family, she had thrown away her pride for Jacob.
Then one day, Jacob's legs recovered miraculously.
After that, everyone in Praginia envied them and called them a perfect match.
Back then, she truly thought he meant every promise he made.
Jacob held her hand and looked at her with complete sincerity. "Carrie, no matter what happens, I won't betray you."
At the time, she trusted every word.
Not long after that, the Lloyd family fell into crisis. Their funds ran dry, debts piled up, and bankruptcy was closing in on them.
Jacob looked exhausted as he said, "Carrie, Braydon is the only person who can save the Lloyd family."
For Jacob, she got on her knees before Vivian, the woman she'd once looked down on, and begged her to speak to Braydon for her.
Not long after that, Vivian and Caroline were kidnapped by Braydon's enemy.
The man pressed a gun to Caroline's temple and demanded to know which of them was Braydon's wife.
To survive, Vivian lied, saying Caroline was Braydon's wife.
Then Jacob arrived. The second Caroline saw him, relief crushed her chest.
She believed Jacob would tell them the truth. He'd make it clear who she really was.
Hope hit her hard enough to make her lose control. She called out his name.
"She isn't Mrs. Lewis," Jacob said while looking at the kidnapper. "The woman next to her is."
The person Jacob was protecting was Vivian.
Caroline watched him move toward Vivian without hesitation. Guilt filled his face as he lowered his voice and said, "I'm sorry, Carrie. You've always had everything. Vivian only has me."
That was it. Just one apology. Everything Caroline had done for him became worthless because of those few words.
Only before death finally came for her did she understand the truth she had refused to see.
The woman Jacob loved from the very beginning was Vivian.
He once promised he'd never fail her. What a joke that turned out to be. The fool had been her all along.
"Carrie?" Amanda's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Have you decided yet?"
Caroline slowly lifted her head.
Vivian stood nearby and looked at her with a timid look. "You should choose first. I'm not in a hurry."
Those were the exact words Vivian said in her previous life too.
Back then, Caroline picked Jacob. That left Braydon for Vivian.
Later on, Caroline learned the truth—Vivian had wanted Braydon from the start.
Before the selection day even came, Vivian kept feeding her all kinds of nonsense about him.
She stepped aside on purpose and let Caroline take Jacob so she could end up with the man she truly wanted.
Caroline stared at Vivian's pretty face and gave a cold laugh.
If she hadn't gone through that extra lifetime, she probably would've fallen for Vivian's innocent act.
She pressed her hand against the file sitting on the left side. "I'm choosing him."
Silence spread across the living room.
The smile on Vivian's face almost cracked apart.
Even her mother looked caught off guard. "Carrie, are you serious?"
Just the night before, Caroline had been crying over Jacob, insisting she wanted to marry him no matter what. Yet now, she was choosing Braydon.
"I've already decided." Caroline's tone stayed flat. "I'm marrying Braydon."
Shock flickered across Vivian's face before she forced herself to smile. "Why would you suddenly pick him? Weren't you saying before that Jacob was kind and thoughtful?"
"That was before," Caroline said flatly. "Jacob's health is a mess, and I don't want to spend my life looking after someone sick all day."
"Marriage isn't some game. Don't be impulsive," Vivian said with fake concern.
"I'm not being impulsive." Caroline rose from her seat and stared straight at Vivian. "You've always been so caring, haven't you? Jacob needs someone patient enough to take care of him. Honestly, the two of you sound perfect together."
The blood drained from Vivian's face. "How could you say that?"
"What?" A cold smile touched Caroline's lips. "Don't tell me you suddenly don't want him anymore. Or were you hoping I'd take Jacob so you could have Braydon for yourself?"
The words landed too hard. Vivian's expression turned completely white.
"I wasn't thinking that at all..." Vivian's eyes reddened instantly. Her voice came out shaky and hurt. "I was only worried you'd regret this later..."
"That's enough," Amanda interjected, rubbing her temple. "Carrie's already made her choice. Vivian, you'll marry Jacob."
"But I..."
Caroline lifted a brow. "But what? Didn't you just say Jacob was such a wonderful man? You should be happy."
Vivian couldn't get another word out.
A wonderful man?
Everyone in Praginia knew Jacob was mobility-impaired.
Nobody in the Lloyd family took him seriously. He was sickly and frail.
If she married him, she'd end up widowed sooner or later.
By comparison, Braydon was the city's most powerful man.
Caroline used to care only about Jacob. Why did she suddenly choose Braydon?
Still, the decision had already been made.
Vivian pressed her lips together tightly.
It didn't matter.
Even if she couldn't marry Braydon, she knew Jacob had feelings for her.
Once she married Jacob, she'd become part of the Lloyd family. No matter how anyone looked at it, her future would definitely be better than Caroline's.
After all, Braydon's name might carry power across all of Praginia, but everyone knew how terrifying he was.
People in their social circle often talked about him behind closed doors. They said Braydon was ruthless. The kind of man who could destroy someone without changing his expression.
If he ever decided to deal with a person, that person probably wouldn't even know what killed them.
Caroline took one look at Vivian's face and immediately guessed what she was thinking.
A mocking smile tugged at her lips.
Vivian actually thought marrying Jacob would give her a better life?
What a joke.
Being with Jacob would only drag Vivian into something far worse.
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8.1
She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.
7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."
7.5
For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer.
He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else.
When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg.
Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death.
As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career.
I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived.
I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self.
Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power.
I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage.
"I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig."
I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.
7.6
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip.
Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes.
His pale chest was torn open to the bone.
I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop.
He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel.
And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain.
A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days.
My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid.
"Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume."
If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed.
But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself?
I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive.
Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face.
"Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire."
This time, I will rewrite my own fate.
7.5
I thought my best friend Mila and my lover Preston were my only salvation from Essex Langley, the ruthless billionaire who kept me caged in his estate.
I trusted them blindly when they planned my grand escape.
But it was all a cruel setup.
Mila deliberately leaked the plan to Essex's guards to win his favor, and Preston only wanted my family's shares to pay off his massive debts.
When we were caught in the rose garden, Preston shoved me toward the guards and ran for his life.
"You're insane if you think I actually loved a freak like you!"
I was dragged back into the manor, my ribs cracking under heavy boots.
I bled out on the freezing marble floor, staring into Essex’s unhinged, mad eyes as I took my last agonizing breath.
Until the moment I died, I couldn't accept it.
I had ruined my own life, adopting a hideous punk look with fake tattoos and piercings just to make Essex hate me, all for two people who saw me as nothing but a sacrificial lamb.
Why was my blind rebellion rewarded with such a brutal betrayal?
Opening my eyes again, the white-hot pain was gone.
I was back in the freezing bedroom on my eighteenth birthday, the very night Mila would come to orchestrate my ruin.
I looked at the rebellious, smudged stranger in the mirror.
This time, I calmly washed off the black makeup, took out my lip ring, and put on a pristine white dress.
If fighting the devil got me killed, then in this life, I would tame him and make them all pay.
7.9
Cora Foster was a brilliant archaeologist, but a jagged burn scar across her face made the world treat her like a contagious monster.
During an elite excavation of a Gilded Age crypt, touching an ancient artifact triggered a terrifying memory. She remembered being Seraphina Beaumont, a socialite brutally buried alive by her vain, cruel sister, Isolde.
When the team pried open the crypt's pristine mahogany casket, they cheered, believing the mummified corpse inside was Seraphina. But Cora recognized the onyx hairpin and the angular jawline. It was Isolde. The sister who had stolen her life, mocked her agony, and left her to suffocate in the dark. Her colleagues scoffed at her forensic proof, dismissing her as a scarred, delusional liability.
Worse, the ruthless billionaire funding the expedition, Julian Montgomery, was the spitting image of Alistair—the man Seraphina had deeply loved. Why was Julian staring at her ruined face with such intense, inexplicable recognition? And why did Isolde take Seraphina's most precious silver ring to the grave?
Driven by a century of agonizing grief, Cora secretly pried the tarnished ring from the mummy's stiff, dead fingers and dropped it into her pocket.
"What are you looking at, Foster?"
Julian's deep voice vibrated inches from her ear, his cold, predatory eyes locked directly onto her half-open pocket.