Four Deaths Later, Who Is She?

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family.

The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort.

In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown.

“Not her.”

In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident.

“Still not her.”

In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death.

By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect.

Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness.

After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

“Ladies of the Monroe family, Don Costello has requested that I deliver this to you.”

The Consigliere’s voice echoed through the living room as he gently placed a velvet box on the coffee table. I stared at the familiar box, my palms instantly slick with sweat.

He lifted the lid, revealing a diamond signet ring lying quietly on the black velvet. Engraved on its face was the Costello family crest—an eagle clutching a dagger in its talons. Under the afternoon sunlight, the diamond refracted a sharp, blinding glare.

“The Godfather says the woman he loves is among the four of you.” The Consigliere swept his gaze across us. “Whoever can wear this ring will be the future lady of the Costello family.”

Memories from my previous lives came crashing back like a tidal wave. All four of us froze. Each of us had married him once. So who was the woman the Godfather truly wanted?

What was worse was that every single one of us had met a brutal end after marrying into his family, from the icy river to the out-of-control car, the suffocating darkness of the basement, and the hunting knife gleaming under the moonlight. The thought alone made every one of us inhale sharply.

“There must be some mistake,” my stepmother, Catherine, said as she stood