My Tenth Life is for Vengeance

The world snapped back into focus with Caleb Vaughn walking toward me.

And in that instant, I knew I hadn't made it home.

The ninth failure. The tenth beginning.

He stopped a few feet away, a lazy, cruel smirk plastered on his handsome face. You just don't give up, do you? I've never met anyone so pathetic. Now, be a good girl and go…

His words blurred into a meaningless drone. I was done listening.

I looked up, my gaze locking onto his, and for the first time in a long time, it was perfectly clear. My hand moved, a fluid motion, pulling the pin from the knot of my hair. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the sharpened metal point was buried in his throat.

He gasped, his hand flying to his neck, his eyes wide with a question I had no intention of answering. A spray of warmth misted my face.

"You're the pathetic one," I said, my voice eerily calm. "You don't even deserve to live."

I had been reborn nine times to win Caleb Vaughn's heart. Success was my only ticket back to my own world. But it didn't matter what I did—the outcome was always the same. Failure.

This was the tenth time. I was done trying. I just wanted Caleb Vaughn dead.



1

My eyes opened again. Caleb was walking toward me, a storm cloud of irritation on his face.

A familiar, sterile tone chimed in my head. Ding! New objective issued: Successfully win the affection of Caleb Vaughn and ensure his happiness. Upon completion, the Host will be returned to their original world.

The tenth time.

The first seven loops were a masterclass in dying. Car accidents. Cliff falls. Drowning. Some were the result of his cruel pranks, some happened while I was trying to save him, and once, he killed me with his own two hands.

On the eighth loop, I considered a new strategy: maybe he just hated me. For his "happiness," I tried to disappear. I left the country. But he hunted me down, dragged me back, and locked me in a basement to starve. All so I would stay by his side.

On the ninth loop, I endured. I swallowed his insults, bandaged the bruises from his rage, and stayed. I became his perfect, docile wife. I held his hand as he died of old age, having devoted my entire existence to him. I had suppressed every urge to run, to fight back, to end my own life or his.

I thought, finally, that had to be it. As I closed my eyes for the last time in that life, I let myself dream of my real parents, of the joy on their faces when I reappeared. God, I was so tired. I missed them so much. I would have killed for a plate of my mom's cooking.

But the universe had other plans.

And now, seeing Caleb's face again, I felt nothing. A complete and total void.

He stormed toward me, his voice a low growl. "Ava, you are so fucking pathetic. Can't stay away, can you? One call and you come running."

I remembered this night. He'd made a bet with his pack of jackal friends. He bet that I'd drink three bottles of champagne for him, even though he knew—everyone knew—I had a deadly allergy to alcohol.

Behind him, his buddies were laughing.

"Damn, Caleb, you've got her trained. Didn't even change out of her pajamas."

"Guess she was in a hurry to get into your bed."

"The girl's desperate. No way she doesn't drink it. Shit, looks like I owe you a G-Wagon."

I have a severe alcohol allergy. In my real life, a bad stomach ulcer from my college days meant my mom had spent six months consulting with nutritionists and cooking special meals just to heal me. In my last life, my ninth life, I drank the champagne. I wept while I did it, apologizing to my mom in my head, but I had to. I wanted to go home so badly. They ended up removing half of my stomach.

Caleb's face was a mask of impatience, his handsome features twisted with a familiar, simmering violence. "Are you deaf? Go drink the champagne. And don't give me any of that allergy bullshit. The bet's for my car. I'm not losing."

Last time, when I tried to explain, he'd slapped me so hard my ears rang. He'd grabbed my hair and dragged me to the table. He'd shattered a bottle and held the jagged neck to my throat. "Don't be a bitch, Ava. You came here, so you're going to drink. Don't embarrass me, or I swear to God I'll kill you."

I drank it all. His only comment was, "Pathetic."

After that night, in that ninth life, he married me. Our life together was a special kind of hell. My skin was a constant patchwork of bruises. He was a monster. He hit me when he was drunk, he hit me when he was angry, and sometimes, he hit me for no reason at all.

My fists clenched at my sides. I ground my teeth. This time, I wasn't going to endure it. This time, he was going to die.

Seeing my silence, his brow furrowed. He took a step closer, raising his hand. It was moving toward my face, an all-too-familiar trajectory.

My eyes narrowed, my focus absolute. My hand shot up to my hair, pulling the metal pin free. With all the force I could muster, I lunged forward and plunged the sharpened end deep into his throat.

Blood erupted, hot and wet against my skin.

His eyes bulged, his hand clawing at his neck, a look of pure disbelief on his face.

"Ghk! Ghk! You… you…"

He tried to speak, but only a torrent of red spilled from his lips.

2

Gritting my teeth, I pushed the pin in deeper.

"You're the pathetic one," I whispered, the words like acid. "You don't deserve to live."

That sterile, digital voice only ever spoke once per lifetime. I wished I could ask it, just once, why a monster like Caleb Vaughn deserved happiness.

He didn't. He deserved to die.

His body slid to the floor, his eyes wide open, frozen in a mask of indignation.

Screams finally erupted around me. People scrambled, knocking over chairs and tables in a chaotic rush for the exits.

The world dissolved. When it reformed, I was standing in an airport terminal, the air thick with the murmur of a thousand conversations. In the distance, I saw him. Caleb, his face a thundercloud, flanked by two imposing bodyguards, stalking toward me.

I had been reborn. This was the eighth life.

This was the life I had finally accepted he would never love me, that he was a monster. I'd decided to leave the country to escape his torment. But he was a demon you couldn't outrun. He found me, dragged me back to a cellar, and pulled my hair until my scalp screamed. "You can never leave me, Ava. You'll die by my side, and nowhere else."

And I did. I starved to death in that darkness.

Now, he was getting closer. I calmly reached up, my fingers closing around the hairpin in my hair. I watched him approach, my expression a perfect blank.

He spread his arms wide, a mocking, triumphant smile on his face. "Ava, Ava. Did you really think you could leave without my permission? Be a good girl and come home with me. If you do, I promise I'll go easy on you."

A faint smile touched my own lips. I said nothing. I just took a step forward, grabbed the front of his expensive silk tie, and with a motion that was becoming second nature, drove the pin into his throat.

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