I Left my Cheating Husband and Married a Beast

The most heartbreaking part? I was dying because of the stress they caused me.

I didn’t want to die.

At least, not like this.
I didn’t imagine my final moments to be so miserable.
I wanted to spend the money I earned, do what I loved, and live happily before passing on without regrets.
“If only I had another chance…”
If that chance ever came…
“I’d make sure to take down my husband first.”
As the eldest daughter of the Jerem Marquis family, my life had been far from fortunate.
The family name carried prestige, but it was all thanks to our ancestors. From my grandfather’s generation onward, useless heirs had been born one after another, and within just 30 years, the Jerem family crumbled.
My father was incompetent, and my mother and younger sister were indulgent spendthrifts.
The only saving grace was that the family got along well—excluding me, of course.
I was an illegitimate child my father had with his fiancée before marriage. My birth mother died during childbirth, and my father registered me in the family registry before quickly marrying another woman.
So I had always been an outsider.
I’d long given up on seeking affection from them.
After my coming-of-age ceremony, my stepmother sold me off at a high price. I ended up married to Ian, chosen for my “ideal childbearing appearance.”
And then, I spent years enduring a terrible marriage, secretly building a business, only to die at 25 from stress.
That was the tragic life of Beloni Jerem.
“Lady Beloni?”
When I opened my eyes again, the face I swore to destroy was standing before me.
“Are you coming in?”
I stared at Ian in confusion, then stepped back.
Only then did I take in the situation.
Ian and I were standing in a waiting room. He wore a familiar formal suit, and I was dressed in a gaudy, outdated gown.
“Of course, it’s that dress.”
My mother-in-law had forced me to wear her wedding dress instead of the one I prepared.
“Is this… a dream?”
But it felt far too vivid.
The horrifying memory of that dress was etched into my mind.
“Lady Beloni, what are you doing?” Ian asked, annoyed.
“Hey.”
“Are you talking to me?” Ian looked stunned.
I remembered my last thought before dying.
If I ever got the chance…
“I’d take down my husband first.”
“You bastard!”
Without hesitation, I swung my fist.
Thwack!
“Argh!”
As Ian clutched his cheek and fell, I stared at my hand, impressed.
It felt real—so real.
“You’ve lost your mind!” Ian screamed, his face turning red with anger.
“Keep yelling,” I muttered and aimed another punch. Thud!
Ian, panicked, began to plead.
“I’m sorry! Stop! At least tell me why! Ow! Don’t hit the same spot twice!”
“Oh, I’ll hit it again!”
Kicking him with my pointed shoe, I watched as Ian groaned, his face a mess of tears.
“I won’t marry you! I only agreed because my mother made me!” he screamed, humiliated.
I let out a cold laugh.

“Perfect. I don’t want to marry you either. Get lost.”