Choosing Wrong Twice

My name is Elena, the principessa with the best marksmanship in the Capello family.

In my previous life, I married my fiancé, Leon Newman.

However, behind my back, he was involved with his adopted sister, Violetta, for three whole years. They even had a child together.

To give her the antique pistol that represented the highest honor in marksmanship, he smashed my right wrist with a steel slide rail.

From that day on, I could never hold a gun steadily again. I also lost the qualification to take over the family’s private shooting club and weapons collection business.

After being reborn, I didn’t choose Leon again. Instead, I married his uncle, Damien Newman, the current don of the Newman family.

I thought I had finally escaped the fate of my previous life.

But on the eve of the family’s annual shooting competition, my right wrist was destroyed again.

This time, it was Violetta herself who did it.

After Damien learned about it, he was furious and personally sent Violetta to prison.

I was deeply moved. I thought I had finally chosen the right man in this life.

It wasn’t until five years later that I overheard the conversation between father and son in the study.

“Dad, back then, you helped Aunt Violetta burn the surveillance footage, gave her a new identity, and married Mom, a useless cripple who can’t even hold a gun steady anymore, all so she could safely leave Sicilia.

“Now that Aunt Violetta is back, when are you going to divorce Mom? I want Aunt Violetta to be my mom.”

Damien stayed silent for a long time. He rubbed his wedding ring with his thumb before speaking in a low voice.

“I won’t. For Violetta’s sake, I already wronged your mother once. In this life, I’ll make it up to her.

“She will always be Mrs. Newman. And you are never allowed to say things like that in front of her again.”

“But the one you love is clearly Aunt Violetta.”

“That’s enough.”

My hand froze in midair before it could knock on the door. Chills ran down my spine.

In my previous life, Leon destroyed the hand I used to shoot.

So, in this life, I thought the man who saved me would be the exception.

However, it turned out that even this marriage was just a carefully constructed lie he created for another woman.

My husband didn’t love me.

And my son, Luca, liked Violetta more, too.

If that’s the case, I don’t want you anymore, Damien, nor do I want you, my son.

Inside the study, Luca was still complaining quietly.

“She can’t do anything. She can’t even hit a stationary target anymore. I don’t want a useless person like that to be my mother.”

I bit my lip hard, my chest trembling with pain.

I never thought that one day, the son I fought so hard to give birth to would dislike me this much.

Damien sighed softly.

“Your mother loves this family very much, and she loves you too. There’s already very little she can still have, so at the very least, I should leave the position of Mrs. Newman to her.”

“What if she finds out the truth?”

“She won’t,” Damien answered firmly. “She treasures this family too much. As long as you still call her Mom, she’ll choose to trust me again and again.”

I turned around, wanting to leave, but accidentally walked into the collection room he had forbidden me to approach.

There was nothing else in the room except an entire wall of firearms.

The antique pistol that originally belonged to me was gone.

In its place was a stack of property transfer documents, all with Violetta listed as the beneficiary.

There was also an auction house insurance policy stating that the antique pistol had been kept in a private overseas estate for the past five years.

And the owner of that estate was Violetta’s current identity.

I flipped through another stack of photographs.

Birthdays, the first snowfall, family anniversaries…

Every month, on the days when the two of them mysteriously disappeared, they had actually been spending time with Violetta.

In the photos, she wore a burgundy riding outfit and held the pistol that should have belonged to me while standing beside Damien, smiling brightly and proudly.

On the back of the photograph was a handwritten sentence: [A gun worth collecting should be given to the person most suited for it.]

No tears fell, but my heart felt like it had been torn open alive.

It had been two lifetimes, yet I still mistook salvation for love.

Ever since I was little, my parents treated me as a tool for the Capello family’s alliances and inheritance. They demanded that I be precise, calm, and flawless.

I always thought that as long as I had one real home that belonged to me, it would be enough.

In my previous life, I died in the conspiracy Leon and Violetta created together.

At the time, Damien stood before my grave with reddened eyes while settling scores with Leon for me, and I mistakenly believed that he loved me.

In the end, he had pushed me from one abyss into a quieter one.

Damien, this is where we end.