Keep The Curse, My Parasitic Husband

On our one-year anniversary, my husband Julian gifted me an antique ring.

Putting it on cost me everything.

I miscarried, grew paralyzed, and rapidly withered into a husk. And Julian? He convinced everyone that the trauma had simply driven a grieving mother insane.

Eventually, even I believed him.

It wasn’t until the moment of my murder that the truth finally clicked.

The ring wasn't a blessing; it was a parasitic siphon.

Then, I opened my eyes—

I was back at the anniversary dinner.

——

I jolted. My lungs yanked in a harsh breath.

My hand flew to my neck. No blood. My fingers slipped over smooth silk.

Under the table, I pressed my toes into my stilettos. They flexed. Not paralyzed. Not bone.

"Happy anniversary, darling."

The voice snapped my gaze down. Julian knelt in front of me. An open velvet box rested in his palm.

Inside sat a chunk of oxidized metal, that exact same ring.

Sweat glued my dress to my spine. Just looking at it, a phantom cramp seized my abdomen.

The parasite. He was handing me my death sentence again.

My fingers locked around my champagne flute.

"Scarlett?" Julian urged.

He pushed the box an inch closer to my hand.

I didn't reach for it.

The dining table went quiet. Guests exchanged glances.

A camera light flared in my eyes.

"Look at this, guys!"

My stepsister, Vanessa, shoved past a board member, her phone recording. She wore the Chanel dress I bought her.

"Julian is surprising Scarlett with his family heirloom!" she squealed into the lens. "Isn't our heiress the luckiest girl in the world?"

The guests immediately took the bait.

"Oh wow, an heirloom! Put it on, Scarlett!" one of my farm executives cheered.

"Yeah, don't keep the man waiting on his knees!" a friend echoed from the back.

The mounting pressure made my chest tight. My knuckles turned white around the glass, champagne sloshing as my hand shook.

Feeding off the crowd's chanting, Julian reached confidently for my left hand. "Let me, Scarlett."

No. I stared at the dark ring. I couldn't put it on.

His fingertips grazed my wrist.

I jerked backward.

The flute slipped. It shattered against the hardwood.

The crash cut the cheer, leaving the room dead quiet.

Vanessa gasped, lightly covering her mouth.

"Scarlett, are you okay?" She aimed her camera lens at the puddle, then tilted it up to my face.

"I know a rusty old antique isn't a ten-carat diamond. But Julian gave you his absolute last family heirloom. Did you really have to flinch like it's complete garbage?"

The whispers at the table started immediately.

"Julian waits on you hand and foot, Scarlett," Vanessa added, her voice dropping into a tone of gentle, perfect disappointment. "You don't need to humiliate him just because the ring didn't cost a million dollars."

In my past life, I thought she was just a spoiled brat trying to start drama. Now, seeing that calculating look in her eyes, I could see right through their trap.

They were working together. If I said no, I'd be branded a materialistic snob online. If I said yes, the curse would drain my life away.

Knowing their endgame, a dark, vindictive amusement sparked in my chest.

I smiled right into her camera.

"Of course not," I replied calmly. "I just think accepting a core family heirloom after only one year of marriage is far too heavy a burden."

Vanessa’s expression stiffened. She hated that I wasn't taking the bait.

Julian, however, exhaled loudly, pivoting straight into his victim routine.

"Honey," he said softly, raising his voice just enough to make sure the entire room heard his heartbreak. "I know you're always deeply insecure about your weight, but I've told you—I love your inner soul. Unless you really do agree with Vanessa... Is my gift just too cheap for you?"

He always did this. Weaponizing my private insecurities in public, framing a deadly trap as a simple test of love.

I forced a grateful smile. "No. I love it."

Without missing a beat, I snatched the velvet box right out of his hands.

Julian’s shoulders sagged in absolute relief. He shot a subtle, victorious glance at Vanessa, genuinely thinking he had secured his blood-bag once again.

In that split second, I lunged.

I grabbed Vanessa’s wrist with a death grip. Before her brain could even register the movement, I pulled the dark ring out and jammed it onto her ring finger, shoving it brutally past the knuckle.

"Sisters share everything," I said softly.

"Ahhh!"

Vanessa let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

She violently scrambled backward, clawing furiously at her own hand as if the metal was burning poison straight into her flesh. Every ounce of her polished socialite poise vanished.

"Why did you put it on me?!" she screamed, hyperventilating in front of the dead-silent room.

"Get it off me, you bitch! Why would you put this creepy thing on my hand?! Are you trying to get me killed?!"