She said, "You'll break your hand."

Seconds later—the billionaire's fiancée screamed as her wrist snapped in two.

Meet Alondra, the nun with a curse from hell:

Every word she speaks… comes true.

She took a vow of silence.

Until the day her sister was destroyed by the rich and powerful. Now she's walking straight into their glittering world of lies— and she's about to turn every word into their punishment.

When she whispers, bones break.

When she smiles, empires fall.

And when she says your name—

it’s already too late.

A holy woman with the power of death.

A heroine too dangerous to silence.

Betrayal, karma, and revenge served divine.

Everyone says she's cursed.

They're about to find out—

She's chosen.

--

I was born with a twisted gift: anything bad I spoke aloud came crashing into reality, swift and merciless.

At four years old, I accidentally spilled some food during dinner. My grandmother snatched me up by the collar, hauling me toward the murky pond behind the house. "You wasteful little brat!" she snarled. "Dare to squander our hard-earned meal? I'll drown you right here and now!"

I tilted my head up at her, my voice a soft whisper. "No, you'll be the one who slips into that pond and drowns."

The words had barely left my lips when her foot skidded on the slick mud. She tumbled headfirst into the water, vanishing beneath the surface forever.

Grandpa exploded in rage, jabbing a finger at me and bellowing, "You jinxed demon! You killed her!" Then, without a second thought, he sold me off to a shadowy human trafficker.

As he turned his back, I murmured under my breath, "You and that trafficker will both get crushed under a runaway carriage."

No sooner had I spoken than a wild horse pulling a cart came charging out of nowhere, crushing them both into the dirt.

The villagers said I was a monster, that I'd bring death to everyone around me. They shouted that I should be killed before I cursed the entire village.

My parents, desperate and cornered, pleaded with Abbess Daleyza Lopez at the convent for three grueling days until she finally relented, allowing me to join as a novice. They hoped the sacred walls would shield me from my dark fate, that God's grace might tame the storm inside me.

They promised that when life got better, they would come back for me.

I waited, day after faithful day. But even as I rose through the ranks, becoming a respected young nun in the convent's serene embrace, they never returned.

Then one fateful afternoon, my mother appeared at the gates, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed.

"Londa," she choked out, "your father's been beaten—his leg's shattered. And your sister... she's been violated by monsters. Come home with me... Say your goodbyes while there's still time."

Her tear-streaked face shattered something in me. I gathered my meager belongings as soon as I could and followed her out the convent gate.

In the convent, I'd learned to seal my lips. But deep down, I knew: one venomous word from me could unravel the wicked, leaving their worlds in ruins.

***

Mom didn't take me back to our village. Instead, after a long journey of trains and transfers, she brought me to a basement in the city.

The basement was pitch black and reeked of filth and decay. It was barely big enough for a single, broken-down bed. On that bed lay two people who looked like they were barely clinging to life.

My father, once a strong, robust man, was now a mere skeleton. His shattered leg jutted out grotesquely, the open wound crawling with maggots.

My little sister, Winifred Gonzalez, was terrifyingly thin. She lay motionless like a lifeless doll, her hollow eyes staring blankly ahead.

Tears burned in my eyes, blurring the horrific scene.

During all my years in the convent, Winifred had written to me without fail. Whenever our parents made some money, she'd send a little gift along with her letters.

She was only two when I left home. Even then, she'd fumble in her tiny pocket for a precious candy she'd been saving and stuff it into my mouth.

"Londa, eat this—it's sweet," she'd say with that innocent grin.

Back then, gazing into her sparkling eyes, I'd used my cursed lips for the first time to utter a blessing. "Winnie, you're such a good girl. I hope you live a life full of joy and happiness."

For years, I'd clung to the belief that my words had woven a protective spell around her, ensuring her safety and bliss.

But today, the cruel truth hit me like a thunderbolt: my power only ignited when I spoke of doom.

I wiped away the hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

Those monsters had dared to hurt my family.

I would unleash my gift upon them, teaching them a lesson they'd never forget.

Before Mom could finish explaining what had befallen Winnie, the basement's iron door rattled under furious pounding.

"You filthy whore, get out! If you don't satisfy us tonight, you'll all pay dearly!"

"Slut, how dare you try to seduce Mr. Ramsey? You've pissed off Ms. Lawrence, and now Mr. Ramsey's furious, too. He paid us good money to make sure you learn your lesson—hard!"

Winnie, lifeless and motionless until now, suddenly trembled violently. She clutched her head and screamed, "I didn't... I never tried to steal Mr. Ramsey! I'm not some homewrecker... I didn't do that!"

My father, grimacing through waves of agony, dragged his mangled leg to pull her into his arms, shielding her with what little strength he had left.

Before I could piece together the chaos, the door burst open with a deafening crash.

A bucket of crimson paint came flying straight at me.

In a heartbeat, I was drenched head to toe in sticky red. Now, I looked like a demon risen from hell.

The thugs paused, taken aback by my appearance, then broke into leering grins. "Well, well, hiding a new girl, huh? This chick's got some looks."

"Perfect timing—we're bored with the old trash. Let's take turns breaking in the new toy!"

They spewed vile obscenities while scrawling "whore," "mistress," and "slut" across the walls in dripping red paint, the words glaring like fresh wounds.

The ringleader sneered at us with a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Did you really think hiding here would save you?

"Mr. Ramsey paid us well. We'll be watching you around the clock. There's nowhere to run."

My mother's eyes blazed with fury as she roared, "You've already broken my husband's leg and ruined my daughter—what more do you want? Do you have to drive us to our graves before you're satisfied?"

The thug spat on the floor. "That's just the beginning. Killing you will be too easy! Ms. Lawrence is merciful—she doesn't want you dead. She wants you to suffer.

"Only when she's bored will we grant you that mercy!"

Another goon snatched up a brush, his face twisted in a sadistic smirk as he advanced on Winifred. "Come here, you worthless bitch. I'll scribble something fun on your face and snap a pic for Ms. Lawrence to enjoy.

"What should I write? Oh, I know. How about 'I'm a cheap dog—come and mount me'?"

He lunged to grab her, but I hurled myself in front, blocking his path.

The brute kicked me hard, sending me sprawling. "Who the hell are you, bitch? Get out of the way or die trying!"

From the cold floor, I lifted my head, a chilling smile curling my lips. "You animals don't deserve another breath. You'll be crushed to death by falling stones from the sky—right now!"

The gang erupted in mocking laughter. "Stones from the sky? Are you crazy? What kind of insane nonsense is that?"

But their cackles were cut short by a thunderous boom from above.

The ceiling cracked open with a gaping hole, and massive slabs of concrete plummeted down like divine judgment!

The thugs were buried under the debris, their screams echoing in agony.

My mother and I hoisted my father and Winifred onto our backs and bolted out just in time.

As we fled, the entire ceiling collapsed behind us.

No one inside survived.

My mother stared at the ruins, her face ashen, voice quivering. "Londa, what... what do we do now?"

I offered her a soft smile and pulled a thick wad of banknotes from my pocket. That was the money I had quickly retrieved from the dead thugs just now.

"We'll find a quiet, safe spot and get Dad and Winnie proper medical care first."

Hope flickered back into her eyes as she nodded firmly. "Alright, we'll follow your lead."

Once we'd settled into a modest cottage on the outskirts, I finally unraveled the full tangled web of events.

After I left home, Winifred had studied tirelessly, determined to earn enough to bring me back.

Knowing the villagers would never accept me, my parents uprooted everything, fleeing to the city where they slaved away in grueling jobs, dreaming of reuniting the family.

But in the big city, the only place they could afford was that dark, wretched basement.

They couldn't stand the thought of me suffering, and they desperately wanted to bring me back.

Life at the convent had been sparse and quiet, but Daleyza treated me with genuine kindness, giving me a stable haven amid the chaos.

Winifred graduated from college and landed a job at Dominique Ramsey's company as his secretary.

She excelled, sealing a major client deal that earned her a hefty bonus and a promotion.

Elated, she planned to use the windfall to move our parents out of that wretched hole. With a proper home, she figured, they could finally bring me back and be whole again.

But before the bonus hit her account, Dominique's fiancée, Rosalyn Lawrence, stormed into the company gala, unleashing a furious scene that turned everything upside down.

In front of everyone, Rosalyn slapped Winifred across the face with a resounding crack, her palm leaving a stinging red mark on her cheek.

"You shameless secretary, seducing your own boss? How dare you strut into the company gala!"

Towering over Winifred with utter contempt, Rosalyn's voice dripped with icy venom. "Guards! Strip her clothes off right now! Let everyone see what happens to homewreckers like her!"

Winifred struggled desperately, her eyes pleading toward Dominique, her voice quivering with fear and desperation: "Mr. Ramsey, please... tell Ms. Lawrence we're innocent..."

But Dominique didn't even bother to glance her way. "Winifred, you've upset my fiancée, so whatever punishment she dishes out, you deserve it. As long as she's happy, that's all that matters to me."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Rosalyn's waist and sauntered off, leaving her exposed to the crowd.

Under the glaring eyes of the entire room, Winifred was stripped bare, her dignity shredded in a whirlwind of humiliation that burned like fire in her soul, pushing her to the brink of despair.

That night, braving the biting chill of the wind, she climbed to the rooftop of the company building, ready to end it all in one final leap.

But before she could jump, a gang of thugs yanked her back from the edge and dragged her into the shadowy depths of a nearby alley.

All through the night, her piercing screams echoed through the darkness.

The next day, a video of Winifred's brutal assault landed right in Rosalyn's hands.

Dominique shrugged it off with casual indifference: "See, Rosie? Look at her now—a total wreck. You can trust me; I'd never touch garbage like that. This should put your mind at ease, right?"

Rosalyn curled her lip in disdain. "Who knows if this is just an act? One little romp proves nothing! Pet her a little and she'll be back on her knees for you."

Without missing a beat, Dominique barked orders. "Get some guys to tail her every day. Make sure she suffers until Rosie's satisfied."

From that moment on, Winifred's life became a living hell.

They unleashed every twisted method of cruelty imaginable until her body was a canvas of bruises and scars.

When Father tried to shield her, those monsters shattered his leg in a brutal beating, leaving him writhing in agony.

Hearing the full, gut-wrenching tale ignited an inferno of rage within me.

Once Winifred and Dad's conditions stabilized a bit, I entrusted Mom with their care, hoisted the bag I'd brought from the convent onto my shoulder, and left home.

Since they had used power to crush my family toward death, I would use whatever I had to make them pay.

Dressed in my habit, I positioned myself right outside Dominique's company.

Years of convent life had honed my poise into something ethereal and captivating. My serene beauty turned heads instantly, drawing whispers and stares from passersby.

Before long, I went viral on short-video platforms, a mysterious figure shrouded in holiness.

Wealthy heirs flocked to me, showering me with flattery and gifts, but I remained aloof, silent as a statue.

Only when Dominique strolled by did I speak my first sentence. "Sir, you look unwell. I foresee you'll bleed today."

My words sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd.

"She spoke!"

"Are you a fortune-teller? Read my future too!"

Dominique halted, his eyes lighting up with a mix of awe and intrigue. "Oh? And how exactly will I bleed?"

I met his gaze steadily, enunciating each word. "Right now, your forehead will start bleeding."

The curious onlookers—those spoiled young elites—crowded around, chuckling as they urged him. "Dominique, don't go! Let's see if the nun's prediction comes true!"

Dominique found it absurd yet amusing, so he folded his arms and stayed. "Fine, I'll stand right here and wait to see if your words hold any weight..."

Before he could finish, a deafening crash erupted from the street.

A sedan veered wildly out of control, slamming into the guardrail. Shards of metal flew like deadly arrows, one grazing his temple and drawing a crimson line down his cheek.

The crowd fell silent, stunned into reverence, their eyes on me now filled with fervent adoration and fear.

Seizing the moment, Dominique organized a lavish evening banquet with his circle of affluent friends, extending a personal invitation to me.

I nodded faintly, accepting with quiet grace.

As night fell, the opulent restaurant glittered under chandeliers, the clinking of glasses echoing within the lavish restaurant.

Dominique had prepared a sumptuous spread just for the occasion. Raising his glass in a toast, he said, "Thanks to your prophecy today, I avoided a real disaster. May I ask your name?"

I offered a soft smile. "I'm Alondra."

My smile seemed to enchant the room.

We'd barely savored a few bites when the restaurant doors burst open with a thunderous bang!

Just as I'd anticipated, Rosalyn stormed in with her entourage of bodyguards, sweeping toward me like a tempest.

She swung her hand to slap me, but Dominique caught her wrist mid-air.

"Rosie, show some respect! This lady has the gift of foresight."

Rosalyn's eyes blazed red with fury as she spat, "Pfft! You think she's some kind of saint? More like a slut in a habit to me!"

She wrenched free from his grip, snarling at her guards, "If she's such a holy nun, why's she all dolled up? Shave her head bald! I want the whole internet to see what happens to fake nuns who play mistress!"

Turning on Dominique, she jabbed a finger at his face. "If you stop me, Dominique, our engagement's off! Without my family's backing, how long do you think your empire will last?"

Then, her glare swept the room like a whip. "Anyone here not afraid to cross the Lawrences? Go ahead, try me! Don't forget, they call me the Hellcat for a reason!"

Her explosive rage choked the air, silencing any would-be interveners. The room plunged into a tense, suffocating hush.

Dominique tried to placate her weakly. "Rosie, this is different—come on, don't make a scene."

"Me, making a scene?" Tears welled up in her eyes, mixing with her fury. "You've never cared what I did before, but now, for this phony nun-whore, you're calling me out?"

Her expression hardened into something feral. "Fine, Dominique—you've forced my hand! Guards! Not just her hair—break her legs too! Then toss her into the snake pit and let the vipers tear her apart, fang by fang!"

Her words sent a pallor of terror across every face in the room.

Rosalyn's infamous "Hellcat" moniker was built precisely on her cruel treatment of defenseless young women. She never showed an ounce of mercy.

Backed by both the Ramsey and Lawrence families, no one dared challenge her.

Seeing her unhinged fury, Dominique backed down completely, stepping aside with an indulgent sigh. "Alright, alright, have it your way. I'll handle any fallout."

I smirked inwardly. Oh, the fallout? Neither of them could possibly shoulder what was coming.

Far from calming her, Dominique's concession only fueled Rosalyn's arrogance, turning her into a raging inferno.

Her bodyguards lunged, slamming me to the ground with brutal force.

With a heavy thud, I crumpled at her feet.

She grabbed a fistful of my hair, her razor-sharp nails slashing toward my face like claws.

In a low, eerie whisper, I said, "Rosalyn, your hand is about to break."

Before her nails could graze my skin, a sharp crack echoed through the air.

Without warning, her wrist snapped like brittle glass!

She released my hair, unleashing a blood-curdling shriek that pierced the silence.