I Was Reborn to Marry This Annoying Man?

PROLOGUE

Aurelia was a country built on sharp contrasts.

At its very core stood Solene City - a dazzling hub of wealth and power that seemed to just radiate excess. Skyscrapers pierced the clouds like giant shards of glass, expensive cars lined private streets and you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who didn't own a mansion or a penthouse. In Solene, money talked louder than any law and in a place like that, influence was easily passed down to the next generation, as much as it was earned - but to be honest, it felt more like its mostly handed down on a silver platter.

Not far away was Lunada City, a place that's home to a more cerebral set of folks - the types who'd rather spend their time figuring out the next big thing, than bragging about their bank balances. It's one of those places where ambition isn't bought and sold, but actually born - and you can actually get ahead on the strength of your mind and your hard work.

And it's in Lunada City that the wheels came off for Seraphina Valeza

At eight years old, she was taken from an orphanage and adopted by the Hawthorne family, a declining third-rate household struggling to maintain relevance among Lunada’s upper-middle class. For fifteen years, Seraphina lived carefully under their roof—grateful, obedient, and painfully aware that she did not truly belong.

She studied herself to exhaustion.

She endured a lot that she shouldn't have.

And she never ever asked for anything that she wasn't given.

Until the Hawthorne family finally hit rock bottom.

When debts started piling up like cordwood and their so-called 'reputation' was on the verge of a complete and utter collapse, the family made the obvious choice. They arranged her marriage to Julian Moreau - some pampered, out-of-touch rich kid whose family had all sorts of connections.

The wedding was a bloody spectacle.

The vows were empty.

And the marriage was a nightmare that just went on and on.

Behind closed doors Julian just tore her to shreds in every way he could think of. He controlled everything she did, humiliated her in front of all her so-called 'friends', and basically just stripped her of every shred of dignity she ever had. She wasnt a wife - she was just a possession - a tool to be used and discarded.

A month later when Julian had secured control over the Hawthorne family, Seraphina had lost all the value she ever had.

And with no other option left, she did what anyone would have done in her shoes - she chose to die.

But its rarely the end of the story, is it.

When Seraphina came to again, she found herself back in that same wedding hall and thats not all - this time she actually remembered everything.

The betrayal.

The abuse.

The man who destroyed her.

And the man she had been blind to the whole time.

Perched in a corner of the banquet hall was this one guy who just looked like he didn't belong at all. His clothes were a riot of clashing colors, his posture was slumped over like he'd spent too many days stuck to the couch - and he was just enjoying the food, like this wedding had nothing to do with him.

Lucien Cross - the pain in the arse she used to have mind-bending arguments with in college.

The man who actually cried when he had to carry her body to her grave in her past life.

The man she only came to really see the way she felt about him when it was all too late.

But this time, Seraphina didn't make her way over to the poor sap the Hawthornes had chosen for her.

She made her way over to Lucien.

Because in Aurelia - a place that was ruled by power, this time...

she would choose the man who hung out in the shadows.

And she would make sure that she never let fate make her decisions from now on.

Chapter 1: The Sacrifice

"Seraphina, my beloved daughter."

The man who spoke was in his early fifties, his hair neatly combed, his posture dignified even as worry lingered in his eyes. Edmund Hawthorne, the head of the Hawthorne family, sat at the center of the living room like a ruler delivering judgment rather than a father speaking to his daughter.

"Our family is at a crossroads," he continued, his voice low but firm. "The situation is… dire. But there is still a way out."

Seraphina Valeza sat quietly across from him, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Her expression was calm, obedient—so perfectly composed that no one could see the faint chill in her eyes.

Edmund sighed, as if burdened by an unbearable responsibility. "The Moreau family has extended an olive branch. Julian Moreau is their only heir. Though their family is second-rate among the elites, their foundation is solid, and their influence is undeniable."

He paused deliberately.

"Julian is a gentleman. Mild-tempered, well-educated, and known for his refined character. He has admired you for a long time—your beauty, your talent, your grace. If you marry him, the Hawthorne family will survive."

As if on cue, a woman seated beside him spoke softly.

Margaret Hawthorne, Seraphina's adoptive mother, looked elegant and fragile, her eyes glistening as though filled with reluctant sorrow. "If we weren't pushed to this edge, Seraphina, I would never allow you to marry a man you barely know," she said gently. "But this is for the family. For all of us."

A third voice cut in, impatient and self-centered.

"Sister, you have to do this."

The young man leaning against the armrest was Caleb Hawthorne, Seraphina's adopted younger brother. In his early twenties, dressed expensively and wearing the carelessness of someone who had never known hardship, he frowned as if inconvenienced by the situation.

"If the family collapses, how do you expect me to marry well?" he complained. "Everything I have depends on this family. Just marry Julian Moreau. It's not like you're losing anything."

Seraphina looked at them—one by one.

Her father, burdened but resolute.

Her mother, gentle but calculating.

Her brother, selfish and entitled.

Then she smiled.

There was no resistance in her eyes. No hesitation.

"Mom. Dad." Her voice was soft, respectful. "If this is for the good of the family… I will listen."

The three exchanged glances.

Relief flickered across their faces—followed by smiles that looked far too satisfied.

...

The next day, Seraphina met Julian Moreau.

He was handsome, impeccably dressed, and carried himself with effortless confidence. When he spoke, his voice was warm, his smile flawless.

"I've admired you for a long time, Miss Valeza," Julian said, looking at her as though she were something precious. "Your intelligence and elegance are rare. I hope you'll allow me to cherish you as my wife."

Seraphina smiled faintly and nodded.

The wedding followed swiftly.

Grand. Luxurious. Perfect.

For a while, Julian treated her kindly. He was attentive, gentle, even considerate. There were moments when Seraphina wondered if she had misjudged everything—if perhaps this marriage would not be so terrible after all.

But months later, when Julian secured complete control over the Hawthorne family, his mask finally fell.

And even if it had fallen sooner, no one would have dared to offend the Moreau family.

The room was dim, the air heavy.

Julian stood before her, his eyes wild, laughter spilling from his lips like something unhinged. "Did you really think you mattered?" he sneered, his voice echoing cruelly. "You were nothing but a tool. A sacrifice."

He stepped closer, his smile twisting into something grotesque. "Now that I control the Hawthornes, I don't need you anymore."

Seraphina trembled—not from fear, but from rage.

...

One evening, Julian sat arrogantly on the sofa, legs crossed like a king surveying his domain. Behind him stood Edmund and Margaret Hawthorne, heads bowed low, their backs bent like servants.

Seraphina approached, carrying a basin of warm water and a clean towel.

She knelt.

As she washed Julian's feet, his expression darkened with irritation. Without warning, he kicked her away.

She hit the floor hard.

Edmund and Margaret saw everything.

They said nothing.

In that moment, Seraphina understood.

They had known.

They had always known.

And they had still pushed her into this hell.

She was no longer a wife—she was less than a servant.

Day and night, the abuse continued.

One day, Julian did not come home.

Seraphina seized the chance.

Her body was covered in bruises, her eyes lifeless. She walked aimlessly, not knowing where she was going, until she found herself standing inside a small pharmacy.

She bought acetaminophen tablets and dextromethorphan cough syrup—both easily available, both deadly when taken together in high doses.

As she stepped outside, hot tears streamed down her face.

She cried—not from the pain of the beatings—but from the agony of betrayal.

The parents she loved.

The family she cherished.

They were the ones who destroyed her.

She wiped her tears, her hands trembling with fury.

Without hesitation, she swallowed everything.

The effects came quickly—dizziness, hallucinations, darkness.

She collapsed onto the street.

All of a sudden—

Her eyes opened wide.

She was breathing.

She was wearing a wedding dress.

Guests surrounded her.

She was standing inside a wedding hall.

Her heart pounded as the realization struck.

She had been reborn.

She looked around and saw Edmund, Margaret, Caleb—and Julian.

They were smiling.

But Seraphina knew better.

Those smiles were not for her happiness.

They were smiles of ambition.

Slowly, she smiled back—warmly, beautifully.

But inside, her heart burned.

'I have been given another chance to live,' she swore silently.

In this life, I will choose my own happiness.

I already paid my debt in my past life.

Now, it's my turn to live for myself.

And fate had no say in it anymore.