Chapter 1

After working myself to death at my corporate desk, I woke up inside a romance novel as its poor, fragile heroine.

I thought I would finally get to live a lavish life of endless wealth.

After all, I had already endured and overcome the bullying, the car accidents, the amnesia, and the miscarriage, finally marrying the billionaire heir, Christian Knight.

Yet three years into our marriage, I realized he was slipping away.

Over a single breakfast, he had already brought up Sierra Vance's performance at his corporate office for the tenth time.

Meanwhile, I stared into empty space, lost in thought as floating lines of live comments drifted across my vision.

[Christian obviously loves Sierra, the story's romantic rival, way more.]

[Rosalie can only cry and play victim. She never deserved to marry Christian in the first place.]

[A billionaire CEO belongs with an heiress of equal status. A broke girl like Rosalie has no business living this kind of life.]

Since my husband had fallen for the very woman who had spent years tormenting me, a divorce was all that remained. We never needed to see each other again.

Hearing Christian mention Sierra's name again made my fork freeze in midair. My expression hardened.

Christian didn't notice my shift in mood and continued eagerly.

"Sierra was in a bad mood a couple of days ago and completely tanked several major accounts. The board criticized her, demanding she be stripped of her executive title. But get this—she threw a total fit right there in the boardroom, smashed up the conference table, slapped people across the face, and literally knocked the toupees off those old board members' heads..."

I stared down at my plate, my knuckles turning white around my fork.

I couldn't help but cut in. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to hear about her anymore."

Sierra Vance was my living nightmare.

Back in the day, she had pinned my head to the ground beneath her designer heels, calling me trash, telling me I wasn't worthy of Christian.

She had led gangs of bullies against me, taken explicit photos of me to post on the internet, hit me with her car, hired thugs to kidnap me, and shoved me down a flight of concrete stairs, causing me to lose my baby...

She had left me with countless physical and emotional scars.

Just hearing her name was enough to make my stomach churn with nausea, sending phantom aches shooting through my old wounds.

The smile on Christian's face vanished instantly.

The floating text began to scroll rapidly.

[What is Rosalie's problem? Is she seriously still holding a grudge over ancient history? Talk about petty.]

[Right? I mean, Sierra crossed the line back then, but that was ages ago. Rosalie is so ungraceful.]

[Rosalie already won the prize and got Christian, so what else does she want? Sierra chased Christian for years and ended up with nothing. She's the real victim here.]

Christian let out a sigh, his eyes dripping with disappointment.

"Are you still living in the past?"

"Sierra was just young and reckless back then. Why do you always have to hold it over her head?"

I looked at him in disbelief, my voice shaking out of control.

"Sierra tortured me for ten whole years! How am I supposed to just let that go?"

The slaps to my face, the burns scarred into my flesh, and that vicious, arrogant glare of hers were permanently carved into my soul. I couldn't simply wipe them away.

Once upon a time, Christian had held me close with tears of heartache in his eyes, glaring at Sierra in pure disgust and swearing he would make her pay for the rest of her life.

So why was he now brushing off everything she did, turning around to accuse me of lacking grace and maturity?

"Whatever. Have it your way."

Christian didn't bother arguing. He slammed his fork down on the table and stood up.

The chair legs scraped harshly against the hardwood floor, letting out a sharp, grating screech.

I sat frozen in my seat, the flood of emotions abruptly trapped halfway up my throat, suffocating my chest.

It choked me so badly my heart ached, leaving me unable to breathe.

After that argument, Christian and I maintained a facade of normalcy.

It was as if that small spat had never happened.

He still woke me up every morning with a tender kiss, carrying me to the dining table for breakfast.

At night, he still pinned me down under the sheets, relentless and fierce, driving me to tears until I begged for mercy.

Yet beneath the surface, everything had shifted.

We used to cuddle together every night just to talk, laughing endlessly over the tiniest, silliest details of our day.

Now, without Sierra as a conversational bridge, Christian had less and less to say to me.

He preferred sitting alone in his home office, scrolling through his phone with a faint smile playing on his lips.

Through the floating comments, I found out the truth—

He was texting Sierra Vance.

When I couldn't help but question him, Christian merely brushed it off, telling me I was being overly sensitive and paranoid.

The very next day, he gifted me a pink diamond jewelry set worth five million dollars.

The floating comments instantly mocked me.

[Rosalie is so exhausting. Christian treats her like royalty, and she still finds reasons to complain.]

[Exactly. Clinging to Christian every day like an insecure, nagging housewife—anyone would get sick of that.]

[Rosalie truly doesn't deserve him. I'm all for a divorce. Christian deserves someone on his level.]

My heart twisted violently, leaving me drowning in confusion and helplessness.

I even started second-guessing myself, wondering if I truly was the one at fault.

I didn't dare ask any more questions. I made sure to give Christian plenty of space.

I curled up on the living room sofa, reading books in silence.

Yet out of nowhere, his mood would flip again, and he would cling to me obsessively.

He would domineeringly forbid me from reading, demanding that my eyes stay solely on him.

After two days of suffocating intimacy, he would turn ice-cold once more.

Trapped in this back-and-forth cycle, my anxiety grew by the day.

I ended up turning to the internet for advice.

Well-meaning forum users suggested that we had simply hit a relationship slump.

Christian and I had dated for eight years and had been married for three.

Going by the timeline, hitting a rough patch or growing fatigued with routine made logical sense.

Back when we had first gotten married, I had insecurely asked him what would happen if he ever grew tired of me.

Christian had kissed me fiercely, forbidding me from having such silly thoughts.

He had sworn he would love me forever, spoil me, and make sure my entire life was filled with sweetness and joy.

Promises, however, were as fragile as paper, crumbling when faced with reality.

Still, I didn't want to give up just yet.

To marry me in the first place, Christian had once walked away from his family fortune without hesitation.

He had swallowed his billionaire pride to work low-end retail jobs, cramming himself into a cramped, run-down studio apartment with me.

It had taken so much sacrifice to finally force the Knight family to compromise and accept us.

I didn't want our story to end this way.