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Husband, I Came Back for Revenge! Novel Cover

Husband, I Came Back for Revenge!

Aurelia’s past life ended in a cold prison, framed for murder by her treacherous lover, Viktor, while the man she rejected, Lucian Sullivan, sacrificed everything to save her. Granted a second chance, Aurelia wakes up at age twenty-five during Lucian's proposal. She eagerly accepts his love, determined to rewrite their tragic fate. But the nightmare isn't over: Viktor has also regressed, armed with the same deadly malice. To protect Lucian, Aurelia must wage a ruthless war of vengeance.
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Chapter 8

My ears rang and for a moment I couldn’t hear a thing.

“This… this can’t be real…”

And then, like lightning, the memory of that afternoon came back. My eyes burned hot as I grabbed Polly’s wrist and screamed at her, “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?! You did it!”

Her eyes flickered, amused, satisfied, but she stayed quiet. I saw how her smile twisted.

“I saw you. I saw your hands jerk the reins. You steered that horse right at me! You wanted this to happen!”

“Aurelia… I know you’re upset about your legs, but how could you accuse me of something so awful? I would never. We’re sisters.”

I bitterly laughed. This was always her game. Do the worst thing and then cry as if she were the victim. It had been the same in the past, the same in the present.

“It’s you!” I shouted. “It’s always you pretending, always—”

“ENOUGH.”

I froze. My eyes shifted toward the door, and there he was. Lucian. He stood in the doorway holding a bouquet of white lilies, his expression impossible to read.

“What happened was just an accident, Aurelia. Stop putting blame on Polly.”

Accident?

All at once, my anger drained. What was left inside me was just… hollow.

“Get out,” I whispered.

“Sister—”

“All of you, get out!” I grabbed the glass figurine from beside my bed and hurled it. It shattered across the floor.

The room fell into silence. No one argued. They exchanged glances, and then slowly filed out.

Lucian was the last. He set the flowers down on my table, his hand lingering there for a moment. His throat moved like he wanted to speak, but he didn’t. He just left, closing the door quietly behind him.

I stared at the bouquet. Then I grabbed it, flung it against the wall, and watched the petals scatter across the floor like broken glass.

…

Because of my injury, the wedding with Viktor was postponed. The Velasquez family politely suggested ending the engagement, but Viktor shocked everyone by announcing, “Even if Aurelia never walks again, I’ll still marry her.”

In New York high society, people called me lucky. They said I was blessed to have the loyalty of a man like him, even in my broken state.

But they didn’t know the truth.

Behind closed doors, Viktor was not a savior. He was a wolf. His voice, low and sharp, stayed etched in my head. “Since you’re a cripple now, you’d better learn to behave. Once you step into my family, you’ll sit there like a pretty little ornament. You don’t move. You don’t leave unless I tell you.”

I gave him nothing but a cold glance. No words. No reaction.

He smirked, bored. “Pathetic.” And just like that, he walked away.

Lucian came by once more after that, but I wouldn’t see him. He stood outside my door for a long time, like he was caught between leaving and breaking it down. Eventually, he left.

Later, someone handed me his letter of apology, along with a check. I tore it in half without reading and tossed it in the trash.

Lucian was a storm I could not afford to let touch me again.

And yet, his name still found me, drifting in from whispers, news, conversations I wasn’t meant to hear. No matter how much I shut him out, he was always there, like the shadow of a man who refused to leave my world.

I heard whispers around the house that Dad was on cloud nine. His company had just gone public in Singapore and he was so thrilled he moved up the wedding with Polly to this month.

And then there was Lucian. Word was, he was always dropping by to see her. He rode with her, cooked for her, she made him drinks—the two of them looked like some picture-perfect couple while I sat broken in a chair.

That afternoon he came again. I was by the terrace when voices from the study drifted out.

“Polly, you’ve been riding since you were a child. That mare is solid, well-trained. How did she suddenly bolt?” Lucian’s tone was steady, deep, impossible to ignore.

“You think I sabotaged it?”

“I just want answers.”

The room went quiet.

“Fine, I did it. I couldn’t stand the way she kept looking at you like a lost puppy. She’s Viktor’s bride, not yours. Why pretend otherwise? She got what she deserved.”

My fingers clenched on the wheels of my chair. The autumn wind cut through me, colder than the words. Lucian was a man who never tolerated mistakes. I thought, just maybe, he’d tear into her the way he turned his back on me. But silence stretched, heavy and endless.

Polly must’ve realized she went too far. Her voice softened. “Lucian, I lost my head. Jealousy… I let it control me. I’ll fix this, I’ll get Aurelia the best doctors for her legs. I swear.”

After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Four words. Nothing more. And still, they crushed me.

Polly rushed to cover her slip. Something about fetching fresh coffee beans, eager to escape. Lucian let out a faint sigh and stepped out of the study.

That’s when his eyes met mine. Cold. Watching. Waiting.

He froze. “You… heard all that?”

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