Yandere Billionaire's Obsession After I Died

International waters.

Down in the belly of a smuggling cruise ship, a rotten stench hung heavy. Crowded stowaways were going feral, fighting over spoiled food.

In the corner, a lump of mangled flesh rose and fell faintly—like something already dead, not even bothering to move.

Thick iron chains locked her legs. Gauze wrapped her ankles and wrists, yellowed and filthy, the blood on it long dried and crusted.

Her tendons—hands and feet—had been cut. She’d been dumped on this ship to rot.

For three days, she’d fought to stay alive, and all she’d gotten in return were curses and beatings.

But she wouldn’t accept it. She wouldn’t bow to fate.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Damien Gibson’s back—cold, decisive, walking away.

He’d said, “Serena Harlow, don’t ever let me see you again in this life.”

“Mike, do it.”

A raspy voice carried from somewhere in the distance.

Then his buddy’s uglier laughter followed. “Boss said we had to wait till we hit international waters before we touched her. I’ve been holding it in for three damn days.”

Serena’s heart slammed. She stared over, on guard.

Several huge men reeking of sweat and rot were coming straight for her.

She staggered up, dragging the heavy shackles, backing away—out of the cabin, all the way onto the deck.

“Baby, what’re you hiding for? Once we hit Southeast Asia, you’re getting sold as a slave anyway. Might as well let us have some fun first.”

“The hell you dragging your feet for? We still gotta film it and turn it in!”

Serena’s face went bone-white. In her eyes, a dying kind of despair exploded.

She wasn’t stupid. She understood exactly what they meant.

Someone had ordered this—wanted them to humiliate her on the ship, then post the video online so she’d stink for life.

Selling her like livestock wasn’t enough. They wanted her name crushed into the dirt, too.

Yeah. It was all her own fault.

But Damien… your heart was still too vicious.

You knew I was innocent. You knew how much I loved you. Even if it was only because I’d gotten my tendons cut saving you—because I’d become crippled for you—you should’ve saved me… at least that much.

She thought of his cruel, merciless eyes. Thought of that almost obsessive, twisted smile he’d worn when he looked at her.

“Serena, you’re the person I hate most in this life. The more you love me, the more I can’t stand you. You’re like gum stuck to my body—disgusting.”

Pain swallowed her whole.

So her love had been that ridiculous.

From the first moment she saw Damien, she’d been possessed. She’d known he belonged to someone else, and still she’d stubbornly chased after him.

Drugging him. Crawling into his bed. Forcing a marriage—like a stalker. Making her entire family a joke.

She’d even been arrogant enough to lay hands on the woman Damien kept in his heart like a white moon.

That was why Damien hated her so much. That was why he’d personally ended her.

Serena regretted it.

She shouldn’t have fallen for a man with a heart made of ice. In his world, there was only Charlotte Harlow—no room for anyone else.

And she’d wasted the best years of her youth on someone not worth it, even losing her life.

She lost. She accepted it.

It was her fault.

She shouldn’t have loved him. Not in this life, not in the next—she wouldn’t dare love him again…

“Splash—”

Her body went down like a kite with its string cut, plunging into the sea.

Water surged in from every direction, salty and bitter, flooding her mouth and nose.

As her consciousness drifted, she faintly heard helicopter blades slicing the air. A familiar figure dove into the water. A pair of scorching hands clamped around her waist.

A man’s roar broke near her ear, on the edge of collapse. “Serena! It’s you, isn’t it? Don’t you dare die! Open your eyes! Answer me!”

That voice…

Too familiar.

She thought she had to be hallucinating.

Her soul peeled away from her body. Serena didn’t even get to look at the man holding her before darkness swallowed her into the void.

An alarm blared in her ear: “Warning! Warning! Story world main character plot deviation meter one hundred percent. Plot restarting.”

She heard the tick of a stopwatch—

—and in the next second, she snapped her eyes open.

Above her, a lavish ceiling. A crystal chandelier spilled soft light.

She was wearing a bathrobe, sprawled in a seductive fall onto a king-size bed covered in rose petals. The filthy gauze on her wrists was gone. In its place was only a vivid red handprint.

Like someone had grabbed her hard—then flung her down just as hard.

And there, at the foot of the bed, stood a man fastening his buttons with sharp, hurried movements. His cold, pale, almost sickly face was filled with rage and humiliation.

“Serena, are you trying to die?”

That face had been her obsession, the dream that haunted her.

And it was also the fishbone lodged in her throat at the moment she died.

Serena swallowed, fear leaking into her eyes.

Why was Damien here?

Back then, to save him, she’d gotten her tendons cut. Later, for him, she’d offended an international criminal syndicate. Her reputation, her entire life—he’d destroyed it all. Wasn’t that enough?

In front of the bed, the man tying his tie froze. His lean, razor-sharp eyes snapped to Serena.

What was she saying?

What tendons cut? When did that happen?

Wait—just now, this woman hadn’t even opened her mouth.

So whose voice had he heard?

“Serena, what kind of trick are you playing?” Damien’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he took a step forward, pressing in on her.

His hand hadn’t even reached her skin when she recoiled like she was avoiding some deadly virus, backing up several steps in pure panic.

The belt on her robe was already loose. With that struggle, the front fell open, exposing a slice of snowy shoulder and collarbone.

Serena cried out, frantic, and yanked the neckline closed.

In that instant, faces flashed through her mind—those thugs on the ship who’d wanted to ruin her.

Her sudden rejection made Damien’s eyes go even colder.

And worse—just that quick glimpse of her delicate skin made his body react, shamefully.

Heh. Typical Serena. Seducing him was what she did best.

Damien tugged at his tie, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag. Nicotine numbed his nerves, smothering the dark heat twisting in his lower belly—and the irritation with it.

The smoke made Serena cough violently. A chilling dread pressed down over her head.

Her lashes trembled as she stiffly lifted her gaze, falling straight into his eyes—deep as a lake, cold as death.

The next second, icy fingertips pinched her chin. He yanked her closer, forceful. Warm tobacco breath brushed her face.

“You’ve done it all—drugging me, crawling into my bed, every dirty thing you could. And now you’re acting innocent? Hm?”

His voice was low and magnetic, like the pull of a cello.

Once, Serena had been addicted to everything about him. Just hearing him speak could make her legs go soft.

But now, that familiar voice in her ear sounded like a devil murmuring. It only filled her with fear and rejection.

Drugging him. Crawling into his bed?

Serena’s pupils shook like she’d been struck by lightning.

Wasn’t that… eight years ago?

She suddenly lifted her hand and stared at her slender, pale wrist—smooth, unscarred. Her chest began to quake, and she nearly burst into tears.

She was… reborn?

Her whole body trembled, tight with restraint. God knew how much it took for her to force herself calm.

Heaven had given her another chance.

Everything had only just begun. As long as she pulled back from her old, relentless pursuit of Damien, as long as she faded out of his world, she could live again for herself—couldn’t she?

Lost in the shock and wild joy of being reborn, Serena didn’t notice the gaze above her—locked on her like a blade.

Reborn?

Damien rolled the word on his tongue, like he’d just heard a fairy tale.

And what shocked him even more was that he could hear Serena’s thoughts.

Before she climbed into his bed. Before he shoved her away.

He clearly hadn’t had this ability.

Damien stared at Serena, his expression unreadable.

In his mind, the scraps of information he’d just gathered slowly stitched together.

She was Serena—reborn from eight years in the future. And the Damien from eight years later had crippled her… and gotten her killed…

A sharp ache punched through his heart. Damien curled his lips in a self-mocking smile. In the depths of his dark, icy eyes, there was exhaustion—something like ruin, like giving up.

Yeah.

He’d been born in hell. His soul was filthy. A rotten seed through and through. What kind of cruel method couldn’t he use?

It was good if she’d finally learned to be sensible.

If she was sensible—if she retreated—she wouldn’t bother him anymore.

He closed his eyes, forcing the storm inside him down. When he opened them again, a crude curse from the girl rang clearly in his ear.

[Fuck! I actually ended up as someone’s supporting character?!]