Cradling Ashes on Our Honeymoon

At her celebration party, Genevieve Prescott, the most dazzling socialite in Sterling Bay, publicly declared her love for me. I rejected her on the spot.

I was one of the elite candidates handpicked from across the country by the "Sterling Foundation," a program the Prescott family established to cultivate talent for their business empire.

A few days later, the final interview results were out. The winner would receive a full scholarship to an Ivy League school and become Genevieve's fiancé.

For three consecutive years, I had ranked first in the selection process.

In my previous life, I won. I got engaged to Genevieve and became the envy of all—the future son-in-law of Sterling Bay's most powerful family.

But on the day of our engagement, her childhood sweetheart, Julian Thorne, died in a racing accident. His car burst into flames, and he was burned beyond recognition.

Genevieve kept his ashes in an urn, clutching it to her chest as she slept.

On our honeymoon, she brought Julian's urn with her, cradling and kissing it right in front of me.

When I confronted her, she looked at me with pure disgust.

"Couldn't you have just let him win? Just once? You've been number one for twelve years. What would one loss have cost you? You ruined everything—his future, our love. You deserve to die."

She injected me with drugs, reducing me to a shell of a man, a drooling wreck with the mental capacity of a toddler.

I couldn't recognize my own parents. I couldn't control my own body. I died in agony.

...

And then, I opened my eyes. I was back on the morning of the final interview.

Last time, my score was one point higher than Julian's. This time, I would deliberately mess up in the interview. Let him win. Let him marry her.

I wished them a happily ever after. A match made in heaven, after all.

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1

The day the selection results were announced, the entire school was buzzing.

"Julian is the final winner!"

A collective sigh of disappointment rippled through the students around me. Everyone here was a prodigy with exceptional programming talent. But like me, we all came from poor backgrounds. Since the first grade, we had been scouted and sponsored by the "Sterling Foundation."

The program started with a hundred students, but the first round of eliminations after middle school narrowed the field to just forty of us—the top students from each state and champions of regional competitions. All of us were sent to Sterling Bay to spend three years at Sterling Bay High School, sponsored by the Prescott family.

"Even if I didn't stand a chance, I thought Nolan had it in the bag," someone whispered. "Did Julian pull some strings?"

"Maybe Genevieve helped him behind the scenes! They've been secretly dating since our freshman year. Otherwise, how could his interview score be so impossibly high compared to Nolan's?"

I glanced at my score. A flicker of doubt. Something was wrong.

In my past life, my total score was one point higher than Julian's. This time, I had only botched one question in the final interview, so my score should have been just slightly lower than his. Why was my score so abysmal? Had my rebirth somehow gone wrong?

The moment Genevieve saw Julian's results, she practically flew into his arms. "Julian, you can't get away from me now!"

Julian smiled smugly, wrapping an arm around Genevieve and parading her through the school. As they passed me, Genevieve shot me a cold, hostile glare.

A cold realization hit me. I wasn't the winner this time, so why the hostility?

Genevieve must have been reborn too. She must have pulled strings to tank my score. Playing it safe, she’d probably overdone it, never guessing that I'd also been reborn and had planned to fail anyway.

That's why my final score was so pathetic.

"Don't feel too bad, you losers who couldn't beat Julian!" Genevieve called out smugly, draped over Julian's shoulder. "My father will sponsor your college education and even provide start-up capital for your future careers!"

She looked at us as if we were a pack of stray dogs begging for scraps.

Before the shock could register, the principal seized my arm and dragged me into his office. He pulled down the blinds, turned off the surveillance cameras, and then slammed his fist into my face twice.

"What the hell were you thinking? You've been number one for twelve years, and you screw up at the most critical moment?" he roared, his face inches from mine.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I tasted iron. "Mr. Albright—"

"Do you have any idea there was a betting pool on your ranking? I bet a million dollars on you! You worthless brat! That was my entire life savings!" He hit me twice more.

He left me bruised and reeling. After he threw me out of his office, I collapsed in the hallway just in time to see Julian emerge triumphantly from the vice principal's office.

And the only person who’d bet correctly in this pool? The vice principal. Julian was the winner, and she had just made nearly a hundred million dollars.

I dragged my battered body home, only for my dad to start in on me.

"I already bragged to all the guys at the docks! Told them my son was the 'Sterling Foundation' champion! What the hell happened? You screwed up at the last second! How am I supposed to show my face now?"

"The principal had already given me the prize money in advance, and now I have to pay it back! I can't believe I'm cursed with a useless son like you!"

I froze. "Money? What money?"

My dad slammed a thick wad of cash on the table. "The principal knew you were a sure thing, so he fronted me the prize money! I thought you had it in the bag! I've already spent eighty thousand. How the hell am I going to pay that back?"

I collapsed to the floor. Not even a second life could have prepared me for this disaster.

In my last life, I was the winner. My dad was proud, the principal was supportive, and none of this ever came to light. This time, to save my own skin, I had to give up the victory, only to discover the principal's dirty dealings.

As for the eighty thousand? My dad had, of course, used it to pay off his gambling debts.

A bitter smile twisted my lips. So this was it. I was paying for my father's debts.

"Dad, Roxanne Valerius has always admired me. You know you angered her family by refusing to quit your job at the docks. Maybe if I go to her and ask for a favor, she'll give you the backing to start your own shipping company."

My dad's expression softened. "Well, if you can't marry a high-society princess, a mafia princess will do."