For 99 lifetimes, Shay Richardson died at the hands of her fiancé, Joshua Dean, and her treacherous sister. In the 100th loop, she didn’t beg for life—she prepared for war.

She walked down the aisle one last time, armed with the memories of every single failure.

📖 “The 99th Bride’s Revenge” is a high-stakes corporate thriller where love is a lie, and every legal loophole is a weapon.

🔪 The Shell Marriage: She forced her cheating fiancé into a contract that stripped him of his power, turning their wedding into his financial execution.

🧠 The Guardian: Just when she thought she won, the true mastermind—her trusted legal counsel—reveals the ultimate trap, stealing her entire empire and making her a wanted fugitive.

She lost the fortune, but she kept the knowledge. Now, she’s back to dismantle the system, one cold, calculated move at a time.

Are you ready for the coldest, most brilliant revenge plot ever written?

Click the link in bio to start reading this must-read webnovel now! https://novelhot.top/novel/38

Chapter 1: The Blood on the Unity Candle

The moment the officiant cleared his throat, signaling the crucial exchange of vows, the screen behind the altar flickered to life. It wasn’t a sweet montage of our ‘love story.’ It was a grotesque, amateur video featuring Ella Richardson, my so-called sister, dramatically clawing at her silk dress while four clumsy shadows menaced her. Her panicked, distorted voice shrieked, “Joshua, help me!” The grand ballroom, dressed in white lilies and shimmering gold, instantly froze. Joshua Dean, the man who was moments from becoming my husband, tensed beside me. The change in his posture was immediate, his handsome face—which had been a study in detached politeness all day—darkening with genuine, fierce urgency. I knew the drill. This was the ninety-ninth time the System had brought me back to this moment, and Ella’s timing was always impeccable, always precisely at the point of no return. My gloved hand shot out, desperately clutching the sleeve of his tailored tuxedo. The silk felt cold beneath my trembling fingers. “Please, don’t go,” I whispered, the words rasping past the lump in my throat. “I need this wedding to happen, or I feel like I’ll die. Just finish the ceremony.” Joshua didn’t even look at me. He simply shook off my touch, the movement sharp and dismissive. “Your family is only concerned about you, Shay, the rightful heiress. They would never let anything happen to you,” he stated, his voice a low, brutal rasp. He didn’t need to add the punchline, but he did anyway, turning the elegant wedding march into a funeral dirge. “And as I’ve said before, Ella is the only one who holds my heart.” The door slammed shut with a deafening resonance that stole the air from the massive hall. The late autumn wind, a vicious, cold thing, snuck in, scattering a few dead, brittle leaves across the pristine marble floor, turning the sacred aisle into a path of desolation. I sank down onto the altar steps, the pristine white lace of my gown pooling around me like a sacrificial shroud. Tears, hot and uncontrollable, finally streamed down my face. My shame was a physical, crushing weight. For ninety-nine attempts, I had watched him leave, fully aware that Ella’s melodramas—every staged suicide threat, every fabricated emergency—were simply a tool to control him. Even the clumsy editing of that video screamed ‘fake,’ yet Joshua’s loyalty to her was absolute, his contempt for me unwavering. A red light began to flash violently behind my eyes, visible only to me. It was the System, cold and relentless. “Warning: The host’s task is on the verge of failure. If the unity candle ceremony isn’t completed by 6 PM tonight, the System will terminate the host’s life as specified.” The terror of death—a terror I had experienced ninety-nine times—enveloped me. It was a searing, icy dread that made my body convulse. My hands, once delicate and composed, trembled as I dialed Joshua’s number. He hung up ten times. On the eleventh attempt, he answered. His breathing was heavy, strained, the sound of a man trying to suppress both impatience and something more primal. “What now?” he snapped. “Could you come back for the unity candle ceremony?” I pleaded, trying to keep the desperation from cracking my voice. “We just need you here before six p.m. All it takes is to light the candle together.” A sharp, audible click of his tongue echoed through the line. He was annoyed by my very existence. “Anything you want to talk about can wait. I just rescued Ella, and she’s very shaken right now.” “Joshua, you must come! Otherwise, I—” “What will you do? Die? You’re not Ella. Do you really think that trick will fool me?” he interrupted, his voice laced with venomous sarcasm. Then, I heard it—Ella’s coy, soft murmur in the background. “Joshua, my clothes are all torn. What should I do?” Joshua swallowed hard, his reply low and strained. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover you with my jacket.” “Joshua, I’m not joking!” My voice shook, not with false drama, but with genuine, mortal fear. “I got it. Just wait; I’ll be there,” he promised curtly, then hung up. My pride, my self-respect, my dignity—all were crushed into fine dust beneath his heel. But none of that mattered. Nothing was more important than staying alive. Yet, as the digital clock on my phone ticked closer to 6:00 p.m., the ballroom remained chillingly empty. The System’s light intensified. A searing pain—the familiar precursor to termination—shot through my chest. It felt like my very soul was being flayed alive. With shaking hands, I called him one last time. The call connected instantly, but I was greeted not by his voice, but by a woman’s soft, unmistakable panting. Then, his own heavy, ragged breathing followed. “What now?” he asked, annoyed and winded. “You promised you’d come back,” I managed to choke out. The metallic taste of blood overwhelmed my mouth, and a spray of crimson splattered onto the pristine white tablecloth next to me. He, however, sounded purely irritated. “I can’t come; things aren’t wrapped up here. Just wait a bit longer.” “But I really am going to die. Please hurry, I don’t have much time.” Blood continuously surged up my throat, making speaking agonizingly difficult. The pain had almost paralyzed me. Finally, Joshua erupted in a furious roar. “If you’re serious, then go ahead and die for real! Ella just got a scare today and is very frightened. Do you have to pick a fight over this?” The phone clattered against something hard—the floor, perhaps. The loud, rhythmic sounds of pleasure that followed were relentless, mocking the sterile silence of the empty hall. I scoffed, a gurgling, bloody sound. “It’s been ninety-nine times. Are you really so blind that you can’t see what’s real?” I used every last ounce of strength to finish those words before my body gave out. I collapsed entirely to the floor, my vision tunneling to black. The impact was loud enough to finally break through his self-absorption. “What happened to you?” His voice was suddenly laced with a hint of confusion, but not fear or concern. Lying on my side, mouth full of blood, the unbearable pain had robbed me of speech. The silence from my end only served to thin his patience. “Stop being unreasonable,” he sighed, already moving past the interruption. “After this, I’ll arrange for someone to protect Ella, and we’ll redo the wedding.”

Chapter 2: The Loop of Scorn

The phone went dead. Darkness swirled behind my eyes, the pain so absolute it transcended the physical, turning into a blinding white roar. I waited for oblivion, for the final, permanent end. Just as the last vestiges of life faded, a call flared across my phone screen: Joshua Dean. A foolish, blinding hope surged through the fog of pain. He had come back. He cared. Gathering every shred of my remaining strength, I managed to swipe the screen. “I’m inside…” I gasped, the words bubbling out with blood. But it wasn’t his voice. It was Ella’s, the sweetness of her tone sickeningly amplified by the phone’s receiver. “Joshua, between my sister and me, who makes you happier?” she cooed. “Between her and me, who do you truly want as your wife?” Joshua’s reply was instantaneous, dripping with a sickening adoration. “Of course, it’s you, my little enchantress.” Beep. “Time’s up, the host’s task failed, immediate termination!” Death arrived in a flash of cold, silent finality. I should have vanished forever. But instead, after a wave of bone-jarring dizziness, I found myself standing. Again. I was back in the dim, stale air of the alleyway, the clear moonlight illuminating the cracked pavement and the two figures before me. Ella, her slender arm wrapped around Joshua’s neck, was murmuring secrets into his ear. “My sister could never give you this, could she?” Joshua snorted, the sound echoing his utter contempt for my desperate, futile attempts to hold onto him. “I can’t stand her anymore. She’s pathetic.” The alley was cold, but the icy shock of those words was far colder. My heart, which I thought had already shattered ninety-nine times, splintered anew. I was a phantom, an unwilling observer in this horrific loop, forced to witness the reality of my failure. I remembered years ago, the first time Joshua had confessed his feelings. His face had been flushed, his eyes earnest as he called me the most beautiful person he had ever seen. I’d tried to dismiss the gnawing unease about his past entanglement with my sister. He had always reassured me that our relationship was built on true love, not just a convenient family arrangement for the inheritance. I had believed him. Now, watching the intimate, affectionate couple before me, those cherished memories weren’t just crumbling—they were dissolving into a sickening lie. It wasn’t until the first hints of dawn painted the sky that Joshua finally led Ella to his car. Only then, with the immediate crisis over, did a sliver of distant, professional obligation surface. He pulled out his phone, checking the last call I’d made at six o’clock. A faint pang of unease—or maybe just annoyance—crossed his face. Ella, ever the master manipulator, noticed his attention wandering. She played the selfless martyr beautifully. “Joshua, I know you’re concerned about my sister. Go back to her. I’ll be fine.” Listening to her false magnanimity, Joshua frowned again, then dismissed the thought with a weary wave of his hand. “Why bother? She’s just trying to imitate you and making a fool of herself. She knows I’ll eventually come back for the money.” He typed out a curt message—no doubt another lie to placate me—before comforting Ella again. “Ella was upset today. I’ll stay with her for a few days, and then I’ll return for the wedding. My father needs the merger.” But for me, the wedding was already a meaningless, blood-stained joke. He spent countless, blissful days with Ella. My phone, of course, remained silent. No messages. No desperate calls. I had died in the last loop, and I had returned with a cold, terrifying clarity. My silence was not submission, it was a withdrawal. It was only after a week passed without any response that he remembered to call. The phone barely rang three times before he irritably hung up, his patience already worn thin. “Why so stubborn? Own up and call me back,” he messaged, the arrogance of a man used to unchallenged power dripping from the screen. Just as he sent the text, the phone rang. Joshua smirked, confident that with a simple, calculated absence, I would come running back, bruised but obedient. “Come on, own up. Don’t act like a jilted lover.” He lifted the phone to answer, a triumphant sneer already forming on his lips.