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 4
"Why?" Braydon asked.
"Because I am your wife," Caroline replied.
A faint look crossed Braydon's eyes. "That's not the answer I wanted."
Caroline went quiet.
She understood exactly what he meant.
People knew how obsessed she used to be with Jacob. They talked about the things she had done for him like gossip over dinner tables.
Now she suddenly turned around and married Braydon instead. Of course he'd find it strange.
However, she couldn't tell him the real reason.
There was no way she could tell him she'd already lived through one lifetime before this one. She also couldn't admit she had seen how well Vivian lived after marrying him, or how disgusting Jacob truly was beneath his mask.
After staying silent for a while, Caroline finally looked at him and answered, "I prefer powerful men."
For the first time since entering the room, Braydon actually looked surprised.
Caroline continued, "Jacob can't even walk. How could someone like him protect me or support the Palmer family? But you're different. Nobody in Praginia dares to challenge you. If I'm standing beside you, I won't have to be afraid of anyone."
Every word came out direct and honest.
Braydon stared at her for a moment before chuckling. "So that's why you married me. You wanted my power."
"That's right."
"Not because you like me?"
A small smile appeared on Caroline's lips. "We barely know each other, Braydon. It'd be strange if I claimed I married you because of love."
"Fine," Braydon said, his voice turning playful. "You've got three minutes to convince me this marriage should stay. If you fail, I'll send you back to the Palmer family tomorrow and end all of this."
Caroline's fingers tightened slightly. Ever since her father died, the Palmer family had been losing ground little by little.
That was the whole reason her family pushed so hard for this marriage alliance in the first place.
If Braydon cast her aside now, the Palmer family would collapse completely.
Caroline was keenly aware of all this.
In her past life, Amanda worked endlessly to build ties with both the Lewis family and the Lloyd family through marriage. She wanted both Caroline and Vivian to become support for the Palmer family.
Unfortunately, Caroline was blinded by love back then. Her attention stayed fixed on Jacob alone. She never cared about the family's situation.
This time, she planned to change both the Palmer family's fate and her own.
Looking straight at Braydon, Caroline finally spoke. "The land in the south of the city."
The smile in Braydon's eyes disappeared little by little.
"You're planning to take that land for yourself." Caroline gave him a small smile. "I understand finance, economics, and real estate development. My family background makes the cut. I'm good-looking, and I won't stick my nose into your affairs with other women. To put it simply, I am a low-maintenance, understanding, tactful partner. Trust me, I am your ideal choice for a wife."
Braydon stayed silent. His expression darkened slightly, but he still didn't interrupt her.
"Since you haven't refused, I'll take that as agreement." Caroline slowly stood from her chair. "I hope we'll have a happy life together as a married couple."
After leaving those words behind, Caroline didn't stay another second. She turned around and walked out of the room.
Just then, Jared slipped out of the next room in slow, careful steps. "She couldn't have actually known that, could she? How could she possibly know you're trying to acquire the land in the south?"
The acquisition had never been made public.
That piece of land had already been reserved for casino development.
How could a woman known only for shopping and parties learn something that secret?
"Does her background mention anything about finance, economics, or real estate?"
Without waiting for permission, Jared picked up the documents scattered across Braydon's desk and skimmed through the pages.
"What the hell? She had perfect grades the entire time she was in college? And she already secured admission for graduate school? If she was this smart, why'd she quit studying?" Jared's eyes widened in disbelief.
Not long after leaving the study, Caroline contacted the bank.
Now that she was Braydon's wife, the president personally answered her call.
"Mrs. Lewis, what can I assist you with?"
"I'd like to borrow sixty million dollars," Caroline said plainly.
The amount stunned the president into silence for a moment.
Caroline came from the Palmer family. On top of that, she was now Braydon's wife.
Someone with her background shouldn't have needed a loan for only sixty million dollars.
"Mrs. Lewis," the president said carefully, "the interest rate for this amount won't be low. Should we speak with Mr. Lewis first?"
Caroline answered calmly, "He's overloaded with work lately, and he forgot to transfer my allowance. I only need the money because I want to buy him a gift at the auction. Please don't bring this up to him. I'll repay everything within three months, so there won't be any issue."
The explanation cleared up the confusion almost immediately.
Everyone in their social circle knew Caroline had always spent money freely, even before marrying into the Lewis family. To ordinary people, sixty million dollars would've sounded impossible. For Caroline, however, it was only money meant for a gift.
The president saw no reason to hesitate over the loan.
After all, he was helping Braydon's wife while earning interest at the same time. The deal was practically foolproof.
"You don't need to worry, Mrs. Lewis. I'll keep this matter private."
Caroline asked, "What about the credit check?"
"You're Mrs. Lewis now. There's no need for that process. We'll complete the contract online, and I'll transfer the money immediately after."
"Thank you," Caroline replied.
Then she ended the call.
The southern land was valuable, sure. But nobody paid attention to a piece of land in the east of the city. Right now, the place counted as undeveloped land, so buying it wouldn't require much money.
That was one of the reasons she had married Braydon. She wanted the title of "Mrs. Lewis" because it allowed her to bypass the bank's asset verification. And in the future, that identity would continue opening doors for her.
Later that afternoon, Caroline received a call from Vivian.
Her voice sounded hesitant. "Caroline, are you free right now? I want to see you."
At the time, Caroline was resting in the garden beneath the sun. "What is it?"
"I'd rather tell you face-to-face."
"Alright. Come over."
After hanging up, Caroline already understood what was happening.
Vivian started regretting her decision.
About half an hour later, Vivian arrived.
A light pink dress covered her figure, while her pale face and swollen eyes made it obvious she'd been crying.
The sight nearly made Caroline laugh inwardly.
Only a few days had passed, yet Vivian was already beginning to break.
Walking over slowly, Vivian pressed her lips together before speaking. "Caroline, I..."
"Sit down first." Caroline motioned toward the chair beside her.
Without another word, Vivian lowered herself into the seat with her head down.
Caroline didn't rush her to continue speaking. She remained stretched across the recliner beneath the sunlight, looking completely at ease in the role of a wealthy wife.
Eventually, Vivian couldn't hold back anymore. "Caroline," she said quietly, "I want a divorce."
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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.