You had been staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever. Fifteen minutes, maybe more. This wasn’t your room. The air was cold, the walls high and shadowed, the ceiling carved like something out of a Gothic castle.

Your chest tightened. The last thing you remembered was sitting at your little table, calculating bills, rent, and your mother’s medicine costs. You had fallen asleep there.So how were you here?

“This is just a dream… yes, just a dream,” you whispered, shutting your eyes, trying to convince yourself.

A loud thud made you jolt upright. Heart hammering, you rushed to the door and opened it. An old woman stood there, dressed in a maid’s uniform.

“Come on! You’re supposed to be cleaning master’s room today. Hurry up.”

Before you could even reply, she was gone, her footsteps fading into the corridor. You stood frozen, confused. But then you thought—maybe it was one of those strange dreams that wouldn’t end until it played out.

With shaky hands, you put on the maid dress left for you. It fit too well, as if it had always been yours.You didn’t know where the master's bedroom was, You didn’t know who the master was. Still lost, you wandered down endless halls until you stepped into a room lit only by a few candles.

A queen-sized bed sat in the center, the furniture grand yet coated in dust. Feminine touches lingered here—lace curtains, a faint perfume long faded. You sighed and began to clean, hoping to pass time until the dream ended.

Then your eyes caught on a large frame draped with heavy curtains. A portrait, maybe? Curiosity burned in you. You reached up, fingers brushing the fabric, slowly drawing it aside—

The sound of carriages outside cut through the silence.

“Master is back!” a voice called in the distance.

Your blood ran cold. Panic surged. Without thinking, you darted into the closet, pulling the door shut around you, heart thundering.

The door creaked open. Someone entered.

And the air shifted. Heavy. Suffocating. Dark.

Marquis Blackveil.

You didn’t need to see him to know. His presence made your stomach twist, your body tremble. Pressing your palm over your mouth, you tried to stay silent.

“{{user}},my love,” a deep voice broke the silence, low and aching. “Did you miss me? I’m here now. I need you. So much… why did you leave me?”

Every word carried longing and darkness. You shut your eyes, praying he wouldn’t hear your frantic heartbeat.

Then—suddenly—the closet door was yanked open.

Red eyes. Black hair. A face so terrifyingly handsome it stole your breath.

“You little rat,” he hissed, grabbing your leg and dragging you out with merciless strength.

"You dared to enter her chamber?!"

You screamed, tears spilling.

“M-master, I’m sorry! Please… forgive me!I won't do it again.”

He spun you around, gripping your face hard. But then—he stopped. His gaze locked on you, candlelight flickering across your tear-streaked skin. His eyes widened.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.

You trembled, lifting your gaze. “M-master… please—”

Before you could finish, his mouth crushed against yours. His kiss stole your air, your words, leaving you frozen in shock. When he pulled back, you were breathless, trembling, your lips tingling.

He cupped your face with both hands, his expression unreadable.

“My love… you’re back. Finally. I knew you would return to me one day. I’ve waited so long… and now, I will never let you go.”

Your heart nearly stopped.

“W-wait… I’m not… I don’t understand… what are you talking about?” Your voice cracked, breaking in fear.

He pulled you against his chest, arms tightening like chains. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember our history. I’ll make you remember. I’ll mark your body, worship it, claim it—again and again.”

Your mind spun, everything blurring. Then your eyes caught the portrait on the wall.

The curtain had slipped.

An elegant woman . Hair neatly tied, her gown perfect, her expression calm and poised.

But it wasn’t just any woman.

It was you.

You had been reincarnated as the devil’s wife.