I Let Him Choose His Ex This Time

Cressida's POV

Lysander’s ex-girlfriend, Evangeline, suggested a hiking trip. Out of obligation to me as his fiancée, he brought me along.

We got lost in the woods and trespassed onto the territory of his half-brother, Orion.

When Orion pointed a gun at us and forced him to choose—

In my past life, he chose me.

As a result, Evangeline was sold to a rival, Matthias, and was tortured to death. I spent the rest of my life bearing the full weight of Lysander’s hatred.

In the third year of our marriage, I lay in a hospital bed after a miscarriage. He stood coldly beside me and said, "Now you know how it feels to lose the love of your life."

Reborn into this life, as Orion’s gun points at me and Evangeline once again, I make the choice for him.

I’m leaving the chance to survive to his true love.

"Lysander, I’m losing my patience."

Orion Wolfe sat on an oil drum, toying with a bloodstained dagger, a sinister smile on his lips.

"On your left is your fiancée."

The blade suddenly shifted, pointing to the other side.

"On your right is your ex-girlfriend. Pick one."

My eyes snapped open, my pupils shrinking.

The heavy stench of blood and damp mold filled my nose.

I had been reborn.

Not far away, Lysander stood in the shadows. His usually stoic face was taut as a drawn bow. His bottomless, ice-blue eyes churned with agonizing inner conflict.

On the other side, Evangeline was pinned to the ground by two brutes.

Her clothes were disheveled, tears falling like broken pearls. She looked up pitifully at Lysander, her trembling voice acting like a poisoned hook, sinking directly into his weakest spot.

"Lysander... save me... I'm so scared..."

Lysander’s jaw clenched. His gaze darted frantically between me and Evangeline. His fists balled tightly, veins bulging.

"Take Evangeline. Lysander, I don't want to live the rest of my life burdened with guilt."

My crisp, resolute voice echoed in the empty warehouse. Though weak from blood loss, it left no room for argument.

Lysander jolted, staring at me in utter disbelief.

A split second later, a barely perceptible flash of relief crossed his eyes, quickly buried beneath heavy "agony."

"Cressida, you—" he choked out. "How can you be so kind? I was going to choose you... but you're always putting others first."

He clenched his fists, feigning a battle of conscience, while his feet subconsciously shifted toward Evangeline.

"I'll be right back! Hold on!" He stared at me fervently, as if his promise weighed a ton. "Cressida, you are so generous, how could I actually abandon you? I swear, I’ll bring people back to save you!"

Before he even finished speaking, he scooped Evangeline up, moving so fast as if terrified I would change my mind. Gripping her hand, he turned impatiently and strode toward the warehouse door.

In our past life, he only forced himself to choose me out of fear of public backlash for abandoning his fiancée.

But the moment he escaped, he went mad trying to trade his family’s most profitable casino for Evangeline. His grandfather put his foot down: If you want to use family assets, you must marry Cressida immediately.

So he dragged me to the altar, forcefully bringing the wedding forward.

But on our wedding day, Evangeline’s parents crashed the ceremony, carrying her mutilated corpse.

We learned Orion had already sold her off to Matthias Thorne, an aging mafia boss. Matthias was completely impotent—unable to assert his manhood normally, he channeled his fury and twisted desires into the most horrific mental and physical torture, pouring it all out on Evangeline.

I’ll never forget the utter, dead silence in Lysander’s eyes that day. He threw a check at her parents' faces, his voice as flat as if discussing a business deal: "After the wedding, I will take my wife to attend the funeral."

Then, gripping my wrist like a vice, he dragged me to the altar to finish our vows.

I was terrified, crying and begging him to cancel the wedding. But he held me like a possessed man, obsessed with seeing it through.

"You are the only one I want to marry."

I had naively thought it was a confession of true love, spoken in a moment of life and death.

It wasn't until the endless emotional abuse after our marriage, his frantic draining of my Beaumont family's assets, and the pure hatred in his eyes when he looked at me...

That's when I saw the truth. He never married me out of love.

He needed a scapegoat. He wanted me to spend the rest of my miserable life bearing his fury for losing his true love, atoning for Evangeline’s death.

The iron door of the warehouse slammed shut.

I coldly watched the last sliver of light disappear. Lysander had taken his sweetheart and fled this hell.

In my past life, he was forced to choose me, only to drown in mad regret after learning of Evangeline's gruesome death, carving his venom into me, the "surviving sinner," piece by piece.

Since saving me caused him such absolute torment, in this life, I’d gladly grant his wish.