I Died Four Times for That Custom Dress

Saoirse's POV

My billionaire lover brought out a bespoke mermaid gown, declaring he would marry whoever could fit into it.

But in my past four lives, every woman who tried it on—whether an ambitious imposter or me, his true love—was brutally tortured and murdered by him.

In my fifth rebirth, the butler knocked on our door with a polite smile, "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."

Since we four women would die no matter who wore it...

We exchanged a look in the dead silence, turned our heads in perfect unison, and locked our eyes onto the only man in the room.

I was reborn again, back to the night that changed all our destinies: Leighton Voss’s private banquet.

Sitting next to me was my haughty stepmother Miriam and my universally pampered stepsister Clover. Opposite us sat my best friend Fable and her sanctimonious father, Aldous.

Right now, the disbelief in their eyes perfectly mirrored my own.

Yes, they were reborn too. The tragic memories of our past lives were branded into everyone’s minds.

After tonight, Leighton would launch a massive search for his beloved. The only clue was a custom-made mermaid gown of unparalleled material and cut. For this dress and the supreme power behind it, the people at this table had paid horrific prices.

In the first life, Clover squeezed into the dress wearing a suffocating corset. The moment Leighton saw her, she fainted from lack of air—he expressionlessly tossed her into the raging sea like garbage.

In the second life, Miriam cleverly shortened the hem. Leighton sneered, and the next day, my aging but still-attractive stepmother was gifted to a sadistic octogenarian.

The third life was even more absurd. Aldous crawled into Miriam’s bed to secure his daughter Fable the chance. Fable stuffed her dress with prosthetics. The very next morning, her naked corpse was strung up on the iron gates of our villa.

After three gruesome deaths, these lunatics finally learned their lesson in the fourth life. Too terrified to fake it, they forced me, Saoirse, into that cursed gown.

The moment the zipper ran up smoothly, everyone sighed in relief.

The dress fit me like a second skin, which made perfect sense—only I knew that I had been Leighton’s secret lover for a year. The gown was strictly tailored to my body.

I thought I was the one he had been desperately seeking, waiting joyfully for our reunion.

But when he saw me, there was zero joy. Instead, he violently lunged forward and choked me!

"Who the hell do you think you are? You dare wear the dress?! Tell me, where are you hiding my true love?!"

I struggled against the suffocation, trying to tell him I was Saoirse, his lover—but his iron-like grip crushed my windpipe. I died having no idea what went wrong.

"He... he's here!"

Clover’s trembling whisper snapped me back to reality.

The grand doors swung open, and Leighton entered, flanked by his entourage. Dressed in a flawless bespoke black suit, his every move radiated overwhelming authority.

The air at our table froze. Miriam’s nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. Aldous, soaked in cold sweat, didn't even dare to lift his head.

Leighton walked steadily, casually entertaining the surrounding elites.

Yet, as he passed our table, his footsteps stopped without warning.

My heart skipped a beat.

He didn’t look at any of us. Instead, he turned precisely to the gray-haired butler beside him. In the suffocating silence, a twisted, obsessively doting smile suddenly surfaced on his face. He leaned in and whispered something only the two of them could hear.

Seeing that deranged affection, a paralyzing fear gripped our throats.

That same night, we fled back to the dilapidated Holloway villa. Even Fable and her father shamelessly tagged along—they were too terrified to stay home alone.

At the stroke of midnight, the villa door was rudely pushed open.

It was Leighton’s personal butler, Emrys Blackwood.

Two men hauled a massive black velvet box and dropped it onto our Persian rug. Emrys opened the lid, revealing the deep-sea blue mermaid gown glistening with a dark luster.

Miriam screamed and collapsed onto the sofa. Clover covered her mouth, tears streaming. Fable fell to her knees in despair, clutching her father’s sleeve. No one dared to step forward.

"Mr. Voss tailored this gown specifically for his beloved," Emrys said, his gaze slowly sweeping over each of us. "In three days, a convoy will arrive to pick up Mr. Voss’s true love."

Miriam bit her lip, "But... how could any of us be his beloved?"

Emrys smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."

With a slight bow, he left. The door slammed shut, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing in the room.

Moments later, Miriam slowly turned her head. Clover stopped gagging and raised her red eyes. Fable’s sobbing ceased. I calmly lifted my gaze as well.

That bloodcurdling, doting smile at the banquet, coupled with the previous lives where wearing the dress meant certain death…

In the dim living room, the eyes of us four women met for less than a second.

With extreme synergy, our gazes locked onto the exact same person.

The only man in the room—Aldous.