The Billionaire's Deadly Wedding Ring

The day the ring arrived, our entire family was stunned.

A diamond the size of a pigeon's egg glittered inside the velvet box, its brilliance almost blinding.

The secretary stood at the door in a crisp suit, wearing a practiced, professional smile.

"Mr. Roscente had this ring custom-made to specific measurements," he said, pausing to glance at the four of us. "It's worth billions. Whoever fits it, he will marry."

The living room fell dead silent.

Charlotte Evans, my stepmother, was the first to react. She forced a laugh. "Mr. Roscente... surely there's been a mistake? Our family isn't worthy of him."

Isabella Lowell, the fake heiress, took a step back, her face pale.

Ella Winston, my adoptive sister, stared at the ring with a complicated expression.

I stood at the back, my nails digging into my palms.

Memories from my past lives flooded back.

In the first life, Isabella secretly altered the ring's size and forced it onto her finger.

She married into the Roscente family, overjoyed.

The next day, her corpse was returned to us.

Her face had been beaten beyond recognition, a mess of blood and flesh.

Vincent Roscente had only said three words: "Not her."

In the second life, Ella starved herself, losing thirty pounds.

The ring barely slid onto her finger.

She walked through the Roscente mansion's gates in her wedding dress.

That night, she fell from the third floor—her neck snapped.

Vincent stood over her body, expressionless. "Still not her."

In the third life, Charlotte grew desperate. She sliced off part of her finger and shoved the ring on.

Vincent smirked before drowning her in a bathtub.

By the fourth life, they were terrified.

The three of them pushed me forward.

"You! You try it!"

I slipped the ring on.

It fit perfectly.

The family sighed in relief, thinking they were finally free.

Vincent lifted my bridal veil.

He stared at my face for three seconds.

Then he pulled out a knife and stabbed me through the heart.

Once. Twice. Three times...

Blood soaked the bridal sheets.

He choked me, his eyes bloodshot. "Why isn't it her? Where is she?!"

Even as I died, I could hear his maddened roars.

And now, we were back at the beginning.

The secretary extended the ring. "Ladies, who would like to try first?"

Isabella immediately waved her hands. "I—I'm allergic to diamonds! It'll kill me!"

Ella shrank back. "My fingers are too thick. It won't fit."

Charlotte plastered on a smile. "At my age, why would Mr. Roscente want me? There must be a mistake."

Three pairs of eyes turned to me.

The secretary did the same, his smile widening. "Miss Ava, I heard you and Mr. Roscente have met before?"

"He specifically requested you try first."

My heart skipped a beat.

In my past life, I had fallen for those exact words.

I thought he remembered me. That he still cared.

And how did that end?

In brutal death.

I took a deep breath and didn't reach for it.

"My fingers are injured. They're swollen," I said calmly. "I can't wear a ring."

The secretary's smile stiffened.

"Miss Ava, you must be joking. Mr. Roscente's orders must be followed."

He pushed the box closer.

The diamond's glare burned my eyes.

Isabella suddenly spoke up. "What if... we all try? In case someone fits?"

Ella shot her a glare. "You try it! I don't want to die!"

Charlotte attempted to mediate. "Mr. Secretary, perhaps we could keep the ring and try later?"

The secretary shook his head.

"Mr. Roscente was clear. The selection happens today."

His tone brooked no argument.

The air in the room turned to ice.

We exchanged glances, none of us daring to move.

Images of my past deaths replayed in my mind.

The mangled face.

The broken neck.

The corpse floating in the bathtub.

And the gaping wounds in my chest.

Who was Vincent looking for?

Why was he so certain it was one of us?

Yet all four of us had tried—and died.

Unless...

A horrifying thought struck me.

What if the person he sought didn't exist?

What if this was just an excuse to destroy my family?

"Miss Ava." The secretary's voice snapped me back. "Try the ring."

His gaze was unyielding.

I knew I couldn't refuse.

Slowly, I reached out.

My fingers trembled.

The ring was cold.

I slid it onto my finger—

It was loose.

The size was wrong.

Relief washed over me as I removed it. "It doesn't fit."

The secretary frowned.

"Next."

Isabella took the ring with shaky hands.

Hers was loose too.

Ella couldn't even get it past her knuckle.

Charlotte got stuck at the joint.

None of us fit.

The secretary's expression darkened.

"Impossible," he said coldly. "Mr. Roscente took the measurements himself. There are no mistakes."

Isabella whispered, "Could he have... misremembered?"

"Mr. Roscente doesn't misremember." The secretary's voice was icy. "The owner is among you four."

He paused, then added:

"He said if we don't find her today, the Lowell family will cease to exist."

The words drenched us in ice water.

Charlotte's legs gave out.

Isabella covered her mouth, tears falling.

Ella turned ghostly pale.

I clenched my fists.

Vincent, what do you want?

Why torment us over and over?

"Try again," the secretary commanded. "Properly this time."

We had no choice.

This time, I moved slower.

The ring slid to the base of my finger.

Still loose.

As I went to remove it, I felt something inside.

A slight engraving.

My pulse quickened. I adjusted the ring subtly to look.

Inside were two letters:

J&R.

My English name is Jasmine.

Vincent's is Ryan.

J&R.

Our couple's code during our relationship.

He'd once promised to engrave it on our wedding rings.

In my past life, I died too quickly to notice.

So...

The ring really was made for me.

The size was mine.

Then why didn't it fit?

Why did Vincent kill me when he saw me wearing it?

"Miss Ava?" The secretary's voice snapped me back. "Finished?"

I pulled the ring off. "Still doesn't fit."

He studied me for a long moment.

His gaze felt like it could pierce through me.

"Since none of you fit, I'll report back to Mr. Roscente."

He took the ring and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Charlotte called out. "Mr. Secretary, could you... give us more time? Maybe our fingers are swollen or—"

"Mr. Roscente has been generous enough." He didn't look back. "If no one fits by tomorrow, the Lowells will go bankrupt."

The door shut.

Silence swallowed the room.

Isabella collapsed onto the sofa, sobbing. "We're all going to die..."

Ella bit her lip. "Should we... run away? Leave the city?"

Charlotte shook her head. "He'll find us. If Vincent wants someone, nowhere is safe."

She turned to me. "Ava, what happened between you and him? Is he looking for you?"

I stayed quiet.

In my past life, I'd thought the same.

But I was wrong.

The person he wanted wasn't me.

"I don't know," I murmured. "We ended things long ago."

"Ended?" Isabella shrieked. "Then why is 'J&R' engraved inside? Jasmine and Ryan—that's you and him!"

I froze.

How did she know?

Isabella pointed at my phone. "Your old social media signature was J&R! I remember!"

Ella gasped. "Ava, he's looking for you! Why else would the ring have your initials?"

Charlotte's eyes lit up. "Try again! Maybe you were nervous earlier!"

The three of them lunged to force the ring onto me.

I yanked my hand back.

"It's not me!" I snapped. "If it were, why didn't it fit? Why did he kill me in my past life?"

"Past life?" Isabella blinked. "What are you talking about?"

I realized my slip and shut my mouth.

But it was too late.

Charlotte gripped my wrist. "Ava, what do you know?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"You do." Her grip tightened. "You said 'past life.' Have you... experienced this before?"

Her stare was piercing.

I pulled free and stepped back.

"It was just a nightmare," I lied. "About Vincent killing me."

Isabella exhaled. "Just a dream... you scared me."

But Ella looked thoughtful. "Ava, you're acting strange. You seem... terrified of him."

Of course I was.

How could I not be, after dying four times?

"This isn't the time," I deflected. "We need to figure out how to deal with Vincent."

Charlotte sighed. "What can we do? Either someone wears the ring, or we die."

"But none of us fit!" Isabella wailed.

I stared at my hand.

The ring was my size.

So why didn't it fit?

Unless...

An idea struck me.

"Maybe..." I said slowly, "it's not meant to be worn."

They all turned to me.

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked.

"Vincent said the owner is among us," I said. "But he never said it had to be worn."

Isabella blinked. "Then where? Toes? Neck?"

I shook my head.

Walking to the window, I watched the darkening sky.

"Maybe he's not looking for someone who can wear it."

"But for its true owner."

"And the owner might not need to wear it at all."

Charlotte frowned. "You think this is symbolic? Not literal?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Just a guess."

But if true, it made sense.

Why we all died wearing it.

Because Vincent didn't want someone who could wear it.

He wanted the one the ring recognized.

But how?

Did initials count?

Then why did I still die?

"Ava." Charlotte's voice was sharp. "Tell me the truth. How far did things go with Vincent?"

I stiffened.

"We... were together once."

"How long ago?"

"Three years."

"Why did you break up?"

I stayed silent.

Why?

Because his mother showed up with a check.

"Leave my son. You're beneath him."

I took the money and vanished.

Without a single goodbye.

Vincent searched for me for six months.

Then gave up.