A Ring of Death and Lies

The billionaire had a ring worth billions custom-made to my exact measurements, saying hed marry whoever it fit.

In the first life, the fake heiress secretly had the ring enlarged and married him.

The billionaire slapped her so hard that her face was ruined: She's not the one!

In the second life, the adopted sister lost thirty pounds desperately and married him.

The billionaire shoved her off a balcony: "Not her either!"

In the third life, the stepmother gritted her teeth, literally shaving off flesh to cram her finger in.

The billionaire just gave a cold laugh and drowned her in a bathtub.

By the fourth life, they were out of ideas. They shipped me off to him in a panic.

The ring fit me perfectly.

The whole family finally breathed a sigh of relief.

But the moment the billionaire laid eyes on me, he pulled out a knife and stabbed me to death.

"How is it still not her? Where the hell is she?!"

In this, the final life, the billionaire sent his secretary with the ring.

All four of us swore it wouldn't fit.

The secretary just looked at us strangely.

"The billionaire is certain," he said, "the ring's owner is among you four."

...

The four of us stared at that golf-ball-sized diamond, completely baffled.

Every marriageable woman in the family had taken a turn. Just who the hell did this billionaire want to marry?

My stepmother, Genevieve, double-checked with the secretary.

"There must be some mistake. There's no one in the Covington family the billionaire could be in love with, is there?"

Otherwise, he wouldn't have nearly completed a set of our corpses over four marriages.

The secretary frowned, unamused.

"The four of you occupied a table at the billionaire's gala. He saw you and said the ring's owner was among the four Covington ladies."

"This is not a mistake."

He held out the ring case, haughty. "Shall we try it on?"

Victoria, the status-obsessed fake heiress, backed away as if it were poison.

"I'm allergic to diamonds. I'd break out in hives and die!"

Penelope, the adopted sister who loved money more than air, waved her hands frantically.

"I'd bust the stone right out of the setting, I'm too fat!"

Genevieve, the stepmother who'd been thinking of straying from the marriage, forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"My heart belongs to my late husband. The billionaire's true love couldn't possibly be me."

They all turned to look at me. The secretary's face crinkled into a smile.

"Didn't you, Miss Eleanor, once meet the billionaire and feel that instant spark?"

"This ring must be meant for you."

My heart didnt dare stirit was almost about to stop beating forever.

In a past life, hearing those words had made me melt.

After all, the billionaire and I had a secret fling. He'd even had the ring made to my size.

So when I finally broke free from these three women and married him, I thought my suffering was over.

I waited on the bed, giddy and shy.

But the moment he saw my face clearly, he furiously grabbed a letter opener, and stabbed me until I was a bloody pincushion.

His eyes, reflecting my dying face, burned with fury.

"How dare you take her place? You're not her!"

I bled out in agony, never understanding even after I died.

If the one he was looking for wasn't me then who the hell was it?!

Lost in the memory, I stood frozen, not taking the ring.

The secretary smiled thinly. "The pressure of marrying a billionaire is immense.

We'll give you time to prepare yourselves mentally."

"The billionaire himself will visit tomorrow. You have tonight to think it over."

"The ring will stay here."

He left the glittering death trap on the table and strode out to his diamond-crusted limousine.

We stared at the blinding rock, our hearts not daring to beat too loudly. Fear is a powerful sedative.

For the first time in years, the three women I'd battled joined forces, pulling me into a huddle in the living room.

They each tried the ring on.

In the end, it was confirmed that my finger was even close to a fit.

Genevieve eyed me suspiciously.

"You're sure he killed you too? On your wedding night?"

I rolled my eyes. "Stabbed to pieces and delivered back to the Covington mansion. You saw the box."

Penelope nodded vigorously.

"It was brutal. Not an inch of skin was spared."

Victoria actually looked pained.

"I fought with Eleanor for a decade but even my heart ached seeing that."

We all exchanged looks, letting out a collective sigh of defeat.

Genevieve looked ready to crack.

"If we don't hand someone over tomorrow, he'll kill us all, won't he?"

The other two wore identical masks of dread.

I suddenly looked up. "Maybe not. There must be security footage from that gala."

"If the woman he's looking for isn't one of us, maybe the footage will show who it really is."

To save our own skins, the four of us sprang into action, hailing a cab to the hotel where the gala was held.

Penelope, best at playing the innocent victim, charmed her way into the security room.

The footage showed that at the gala, we were seated in the farthest corner due to our family's diminished status after my father's death.

Genevieve frowned.

"That's definitely our table, the only one in that back corner."

And because the four of us radiated enough toxic energy to kill houseplants, not even other Covingtons dared sit with us.

Victoria was baffled. "And it's just the four of us at that table."

Right then, the billionaire made his grand entrance, but paused as he passed our dismal corner.

He turned his head, looked directly at our table, and smiled.

He leaned and whispered something to his secretary.

Watching that smile now, a chill went through us all.

"It really is one of us," I said, my voice hollow.

We looked at each other, seeing only fear mirrored back.

If not for all four of us having memories of past lives, none of this would make any sense.

Penelope shuddered. "But if it is one of us why would he kill us all so brutally?"

I took a deep breath. Suddenly, a crazy, desperate idea formed.

"I need to go to his estate. Wait for me."

Under their mix of awe and gratitude, I set off.

They didn't know I was the most confused of all.

The billionaire and I were still secretly involved. And he was the one who'd pursued me!

Using the discreet side entrance from our rendezvous, I slipped into his private study.

He looked startled for a second, then his face smoothed over. "Eleanor. You should have called."

The gentle man before me overlapped with the raving lunatic who'd stabbed me in my past life.

Suppressing my fear, I stepped forward. "Is it me? The one you want to marry?"

He paused, something odd flickering in his eyes. "After all this time, you still don't know me?"

"Of course I sent the ring for my beloved."

He pulled me onto his lap, nuzzling my hair, the picture of affection.

But I caught the slip. He said 'my beloved,' not 'you.'

I dug my nails into my palm, forcing a smile. "And who, exactly, is your beloved?"

He fell silent, studying me. "You should know. Why ask?"

Just as I thought he'd evade, he continued, "It's you, Eleanor. It's always been you."

"If you want it to be you, then it is."

"Once we're married tomorrow, I'll make you so happy."

I searched his eyes, seeing only deep affection.

Ever since our secret relationship, he'd been wonderful.

I was naive, constantly bullied by the Covington women, with no real power in the family conglomerate.

Yet he not only had my back but also gave me things they could only dream of.

This man, born with a silver spoon, had even knelt to tie my shoes, cooked for me.

I'd truly believed I was the one.

But I'd also seen his face twist with insane obsession as he plunged the blade.

"You're not her! How dare you take her place?"

"A Covington in name only? You think you're worthy?"

"You were just a distraction, a mistress. And you thought you could replace her?!"

I snapped back to the present, seeing him take my hand and plant a kiss on it.

I forced myself not to pull my hand back.

That single action sparked a wild, horrifying, yet perfectly logical idea.

My eyes widened. "Your beloved is"

He didn't let me finish, covering my mouth.

A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. "You're asking a lot of questions tonight."

But he quickly returned to his gentle demeanor.

"Tomorrow's the big day. You should rest."

A fine, cold dread seeped into my bones. I nodded and fled.

Back home, the three were waiting, haggard.

"Well? Who is it?" Genevieve demanded.

I just shook my head.

Defeat and despair filled their eyes.

Penelope started crying. "I don't want to die! Let's run away!"

Genevieve snapped, "How? With his power, he'd find us."

Victoria set her jaw.

"There are only four hours until dawn. Running might buy us days. Better than dying now."

"But we can't run," I said, my voice firm.

"A wedding will happen."

"And I'll be the one walking down the aisle."

Victoria stared, disbelief warring with something else.

"I hate you, but I saw your corpse. Have you forgotten?"

Genevieve scowled. "If you're still this lovesick, I clearly went too easy on you before."

The billion-dollar rock sat on the table, a glittering guillotine.

Victoria, upon wearing it, would get her face slapped to a pulp and die of infection in a dungeon.

Penelope, upon wearing it, would, get thrown from a height and die in agony from compound fractures.

Genevieve, upon wearing it, would be drowned in a bathtub and return bloated beyond recognition.

And if I wore the ring, I would get the most painful death.

Twenty non-fatal stabs, bleeding out slowly, feeling my life drain away in terror. It was like a living execution.

It was so bad that it even made my three lifelong enemies pity me.

I walked over and slid the ring onto my finger without hesitation.

"Of course I know it's dangerous. But it's the only way we all get out of this alive!"

Penelope gasped. "What do you know?"

I knew telling them the truth would help, but if I was right it was too monstrous.

I couldn't drag them in.

"Not yet," I said, apologetic.

Victoria asked gravely, "What do you need us to do?"

"Act normal at the wedding. Pretend you know nothing."

Genevieve's brow furrowed deeply.

"He'll stab you to death after the 'I dos,' and you want us to just smile and wave?"

The three looked at me with genuine worry. We were allies now.

Remembering what they had done to me beforepetty squabbles over money and status, but never threatening my life.

Yet the man I loved and trusted had tortured me to death on our wedding night.

I took a deep breath, deciding to tell them the truth.

"When I saw him he grabbed my hand and kissed it."

"That's when I realized who his 'beloved' really is."

"She is one of us. Just not who any of us would ever guess. She's"

I met their eyes, gave them the answer they wanted.

I looked down, hiding my guilt and sorrow, and pointed at myself.

"The billionaire's true love is me."

They stared, then all shook their heads violently.

Penelope grabbed my arm. "Impossible!"

"If it was you, why would he kill you?"

Victoria's eyes reddened. "I identified your body myself. It was you."