Chapter 1

Seven years after I got sucked into a trashy romance novel, my best friend finally gave up and divorced the story's secondary male lead.

I spent weeks taking her to wild night clubs, bungee jumping off snowy peaks, and holding her hand until we ended up at the beach. She finally wiped away a tear as she hurled her platinum wedding ring far into the ocean waves.

"Fine. That's it," she muttered, her voice raw. "He and that golden female lead can torture each other for the rest of their lives. I am done playing the sacrificial wife. Come on, let's go home."

She paused, staring at my hand with a puzzled frown. "Wait, why are you still wearing yours? Don't tell me you still have feelings for Matthew?"

I casually slipped off my diamond band and gave it a soft toss into the foam.

Unlike her dramatic gesture, mine was completely effortless. "I just realized there is no point in wasting my energy on this person or any of his drama anymore. It's completely meaningless."

True moving on happens without a sound.

Mackenzie’s explosive anger only proved she still cared deep down. Me? I simply didn't love Matthew anymore.

Mackenzie froze at my words, then burst into uncontrollable sobs. I turned around with a sigh, stepping forward to wrap her in a hug.

That was when I noticed Matthew standing right behind us.

The notoriously cold, stoic billionaire stood under the moonlight, his thin lips trembling almost imperceptibly. "Is that so?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Am I truly that meaningless to you now?"

1

Getting caught talking trash behind someone's back is usually embarrassing.

Yet, as I met Matthew’s pitch-black eyes, every trace of awkwardness simply died inside me, replaced by a hollow calm.

I pulled my stone-drunk best friend up by her arm and started walking toward the coastal hotel.

It was past midnight. The ocean breeze blew sharp and cold, carrying the dark hum of the tide. Moonlight washed over Matthew as he leaned against the door of his sleek sports car.

As I brushed past him, the faint scent of tobacco hit my nose.

I used to hate it when he smoked, so he had quit for years just for me. But the night the novel's female lead, Betty, returned from abroad, he had stood on the balcony puffing through an entire pack. When dawn broke, he turned to me after I had stayed awake all night and whispered a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Sorry for what? Back then, I didn't dare dig deeper.

I didn't truly understand until Betty pulled strings to steal the prime news anchor position I had poured three years of sweat into. She even came to my house to gloat, casually throwing the rescue cat Matthew and I had raised together right out of the second-story window.

When I lost my mind and reached out to slap her, a massive surge of force pinned my wrist and shoved me down onto the hardwood floor.

Matthew had shielded Betty, looking down at me like a stranger. "No matter what happens, you have no right to touch her."

That was the moment I finally understood his apology.

He was telling me he had chosen Betty, completely discarding my seven years of devotion.

"Let me drive you," Matthew called out behind us. His voice was raspy from the sea wind.

Sensing I was about to refuse, he added quickly, "You two have been drinking. You can't drive, and walking back to the hotel at this hour isn't safe."

I couldn't read his shadow-draped expression, but Mackenzie was still weeping against my shoulder, muttering nonsense.

"Fine," I said softly. "Thanks, Mr. Crawford."

Matthew’s hand froze as he reached for the door handle.

2

The interior of the car was suffocatingly quiet.

Mackenzie was completely passed out in the backseat, leaving me stuck in the passenger side. The atmosphere stretched tight with unspoken tension.

Ever since our fallout, Matthew and I hadn't seen each other for months. Sitting side by side felt entirely foreign.

Gancing at the rearview mirror, Matthew broke the silence. "Jerry has been looking everywhere for the two of you."

Jerry was the secondary male lead Mackenzie had loved to the point of foolishness. It was because of him that Mackenzie, just like me, had given up the chance to return to our real world three years ago.

"I know," I replied neutrally.

Seeing my indifferent response, Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand on the steering wheel, letting out a heavy sigh. "Jerry and Betty aren't what you think. They are just foster siblings..."

"I said I know," I cut him off cleanly.

When Mackenzie and I first glitched into this book, a system error left us completely unaware of the plot. We had to rely on each other, treating this place as our reality.

By the time the system finally activated, we had already fallen deeply in love with Matthew and Jerry. Even when the system offered us a ticket back to our real lives, we chose to stay behind.

Young women in love always do reckless, heartbreaking things for the men they cherish.

But every wall hits back. I had turned around, and now I was just waiting for Mackenzie to make her final choice.

"If you're trying to get me to convince Mackenzie to take Jerry back, you are barking up the wrong tree," I said, my voice hardening. "Even if Jerry and Betty were pure as snow, I would never take his side or do anything to hurt Mackenzie. Besides..."

I let out a cold laugh. "They aren't innocent at all."

Mackenzie had found Betty’s secret diary inside a lockbox in Jerry's private study, a room he had explicitly forbidden Mackenzie from entering. It was filled with Betty’s obsessive feelings for her foster brother, along with an unsent reply written by Jerry himself.

Line after line detailed his unspeakable love for Betty, explicitly noting how Mackenzie’s personality and expressive eyes reminded him so much of his true love.

After reading it, Mackenzie had vomited right beside the safe. She called me weeping uncontrollably: "Get me out of here. Please, Sam, get me away from him."

Mackenzie used to care about her appearance more than anything. But for the past two weeks, she had drowned herself in booze, crying in her sleep until her face was swollen beyond recognition.

Yet she looked in the mirror yesterday and asked me, "Do I look less like Betty now?"

3

When we arrived at the hotel, I tucked Mackenzie into bed, wiped off her makeup, and changed her into pajamas.

When I stepped back out, I realized Matthew was still standing outside the room.

Meeting my surprised gaze, he hurriedly put out the cigarette burning between his fingers.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Crawford?"

He opened his mouth, his voice dropping low. "Jerry is on his way up."

My expression went icy. I turned around to slam the door shut, but his hand clamped around my wrist.

"What are you doing?" I snapped.

Matthew stared at me, his dark eyes laced with faint red veins, looking utterly exhausted. "He knows he was wrong," he murmured. "He deeply regrets it. He just wants to apologize."

"An apology fixes everything?" I scoffed. "Does he not realize how repulsive his actions were? What a total scumbag."

It is nearly impossible to be polite to the trashy husband of your best friend. I thought I was holding back, but Matthew’s face still visibly paled. His usual cool composure cracked, revealing a raw flicker of panic in his eyes.

He lowered his head, hiding his expression. Taking advantage of his hesitation, I snatched my wrist back and went to shut the door.

At the very last second, his large, pale hand caught the edge of the frame, using his own flesh to block the door from closing.

The hallway light was dim.

"Sam," his voice was barely a whisper. "Today is my birthday."

I pretended not to hear.

"Today is my birthday," he repeated, his tone laced with a stubborn, desperate edge. "You said you would always celebrate my birthday with me."

4

Matthew leaned his head closer, an unconscious habit from when he used to seek affection from me.

His eyes looked exactly the same as they did seven years ago when I first fell for him: dark, intense, hiding a fiery wildness beneath a layer of frost.

"Matthew," I called his name.

A flicker of genuine hope lit up his eyes. But before I could say another word, his phone vibrated violently.

The caller ID displayed a single name: Betty.

Matthew’s lips parted, his movements stalling with hesitation. "Because of Mackenzie's social media post, Betty's career is taking a massive hit..."

Betty had majored in broadcast journalism, just like me. The moment she returned to the country, she snagged my primetime show and built a massive following as a star anchor, heavily backed by both Matthew and Jerry.

I didn't bother looking at him again. "Go ahead, answer it."

Matthew stood frozen. He didn't pick up the call.

The hallway clock ticked steadily toward midnight. In a rare display of vulnerability, his voice sounded painfully strained, as if he knew what he was about to ask was completely unreasonable.

"Sam... can I ask for a birthday gift?"

I had spent the whole day running around with Mackenzie and was far too exhausted to keep playing these emotional games. I offered a lazy nod.

The customized ringtone kept chiming in his pocket.

Matthew swallowed hard. "Can we... not get divorced?"

I noticed his fingers clenching into a tight fist, his knuckles turning stark white.

He was probably thinking about Betty’s public image again. After all, the heads of the Crawford and Vance families couldn't both go through a high-profile divorce because of the same woman.

"Sure," I agreed smoothly.

A rare wave of pure relief washed over Matthew’s face, a visible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He took a step back, finally letting go of the door frame.

With tender eyes, he traced the features of my face, looking at me the exact same way he did when we first got together. I used to think that look meant love.

Before turning around to answer the phone, he left me with a final phrase, his voice bubbling with a bizarre, child-like excitement.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sam."

5

I shut the door quietly.

It didn't matter anyway. I had already struck a deal with the system: the moment Mackenzie gave the word, we would leave this world together for good.

Divorce or no divorce, it didn't mean a thing to me anymore.

6

The next morning, Mackenzie was still fast asleep.

I went downstairs to the hotel kitchen to borrow their blender and make her some warm honey soy milk. When I stepped back into the hallway, a sharp, terrified scream shattered the quiet.

"Ahhh! Get off me!"

"Don't touch me!"

I sprinted into the room.

Jerry and Betty were already standing inside. I had overlooked the fact that hotel security wouldn't dare block a billionaire like Jerry Vance.

Jerry’s brows were pulled into a tight frown, his expression a mix of confusion and mounting irritation. "That's all in the past, Mackenzie! Betty and I are foster siblings. Acting out like this ruins our family name! Do you have any idea what people are saying online about Betty?"

He grabbed her arm firmly. "She is a public figure! Do you realize your little tantrum is throwing away years of her hard work? How did you become so unreasonable? Come home with me and post a statement saying it was all a misunderstanding."

Betty dabbed at the nonexistent tears in the corners of her eyes, putting on a picture of tragic innocence. "Jerry, don't blame Sister Mackenzie. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been so foolish when I was younger, writing those embarrassing things in my diary..."

She let out a soft, mournful sigh. "I realized my mistake long ago, and I've completely let go of those feelings."

Jerry’s hand on Mackenzie’s arm suddenly stiffened.

The plot of this book was painfully simple. Betty and Jerry shared a taboo, foster-sibling romance, caught between moral boundaries and undeniable desire. Meanwhile, her dynamic with Matthew was a tragic story of childhood salvation and second chances.

When Betty returned to the country, she was supposed to engage in a high-stakes, angsty love triangle with both men.

Except Mackenzie and I had glitched into the narrative.

Jerry had never truly gotten over his taboo obsession, and his possessiveness over Betty went far beyond sibling affection. Hearing her deny her feelings for him right there caused his composure to crack, an instant flash of hurt washing over his face.

Watching their silent exchange, Mackenzie laughed through her tears.

Her hair was a messy nest, wet tear tracks staining her cheeks. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!" she sobbed. "Why do I have to be a spectator to your epic romance? What am I to you? What were my seven years worth?!"

Jerry and Betty stood there in their immaculate designer clothes, looking down at her like she was a hysterical madwoman.

7

I couldn't stand it for another second. I rushed forward, but a long arm reached out and caught me by the shoulder.

Matthew towered over me, his dark eyes devoid of warmth. "This is between them," he said coldly. "Sam, can you stop putting Mackenzie above us every single time? We have our own lives to fix..."

He paused, adding smoothly, "Besides, Betty is at the peak of her media career. Mackenzie shouldn't be sabotaging her right now."

I almost couldn't believe my ears, but a cold wave of realization settled in quickly.

He was the male lead, and she was the female lead. Ever since Betty rescued him from a dark alley when he was just a rebellious teenager, he had been irrevocably in love with her. To him, anyone else's agony was nothing compared to a single strand of Betty’s hair.

"Stop making a scene," Matthew said, looking back at Mackenzie. "If Mackenzie posts a public apology to Betty online, we can put this all behind us. I won't hold your recent behavior against you either. Let's all just go home, alright?"

As if remembering something pleasant, Matthew’s expression softened slightly, a faint flicker of warmth gracing his eyes.

"Bella is waiting for us at home. You're so heartless, leaving her behind for so long without coming back to check on her."

Bella was the rescue cat Matthew and I had adopted together.

Seven years ago, while hiking, I saved Matthew after he was ambushed and severely injured by his family's business rivals. At the exact same time, I rescued a tiny, stray calico cat that had been mauled by wild dogs.

Back then, Bella was terrified of everyone, refusing to let anyone near her except me.

I used to joke that she was just like Matthew, always wearing a fierce glare and refusing to let anyone touch her besides her owner.

Matthew would stare at the kitten coldly, turning his head with an annoyed huff. Bella couldn't care less, rubbing her tail against my ankles with purrs.

In the end, Matthew would lose his patience, scoop me into his arms, and glare at the tiny cat: "Get lost! Don't you have your own wife?!"

I used to laugh until my stomach hurt.

Back then, I thought those moments were ordinary happiness. Who could have guessed that a few years later, when Betty returned and tried to kick me with her high heels, Bella would leap up to protect me?

She scratched Betty’s arm.

Betty had flown into a psychotic rage. "Do you really think Matthew cares about you?! You are nothing more than my temporary replacement! Now that I am back, he won't even look at you! And this miserable cat!"

She grabbed Bella and threw her straight out the second-story window.

Enraged, I tried to fight back, but Matthew tackled me to the ground, holding me down. He then escorted Betty out of the house, letting her ride away triumphantly in the pink sports car he had bought for her.

I crawled down the stairs, bleeding and limping, searching frantically in the rain for Bella.

Eventually, both the cat and I collapsed from blood loss.

I was rushed to the hospital. When I woke up with a sharp, dragging pain in my lower abdomen, the doctor scolded me harshly: "How could you be so careless? You're pregnant! You almost had a miscarriage, do you realize that?!"

In a daze, I asked him, "Bella... where is my cat?"

The doctor frowned. "What cat? You were completely alone when the paramedics brought you in."

When I finally returned to the house, Bella’s body was still soft, but icy cold. She would never stand up to rub against my ankles again.

8

Without a word, I tipped the thermos and poured the boiling honey soy milk straight over Matthew’s hand.

Scalded, he instinctively snatched his hand back, his gaze instantly turning dark and dangerous. "What is wrong with you?!"

"I should ask what the hell is wrong with you!" I yelled, my voice shaking with pure fury. "Bella has been dead for months! I sent you dozens of messages and you ignored every single one of them! How dare you bring her up like she's still alive?!"

Matthew’s face went through a bizarre transformation. "What are you talking about? How could Bella be dead? I explicitly told Betty to go over and feed her every single day..."

He whipped his head toward Betty.

Betty nervously shifted her gaze away, not daring to meet his eyes.

All the color drained from Matthew’s face.

Steels of panic returned to his eyes, and he tried to grab my arm again. "Whatever happened, let me explain when we get home, okay?"

I slapped his hand away with everything I had.

"Get out!"

I dashed over and shielded Mackenzie like a mother hen, turning around and landing two brutal slaps right across Jerry’s face.

The pampered billionaire was completely stunned by the impact.

Red handprints swelled on his cheek. He stared at me in shock, then turned to Mackenzie with a furious, disbelieving glare. "You're just going to let her hit me?!"

They all knew Mackenzie and I were closer than biological sisters. My actions were a direct reflection of her feelings.

Jerry simply couldn't accept it.

Mackenzie didn't even look at him. She closed her eyes, tears flowing silently down her cheeks, her hands trembling violently as she clutched the hem of my shirt.

"Mr. Vance, take your trash and leave," I said coldly. "She is never going back with you. Nothing you have done makes you worth another second of her time. You don't deserve her love."

Betty tried to step forward to play the victim again. "How could you hit my brother?! You're just taking your anger out on him because of Matthew..."

I fixed her with a glare that could kill. "Take one more step toward us, and I won't just slap you. I will post the footage of what you did to my cat online for the entire world to see. Try me, Betty."

Betty stomped her foot, turning to the men. "Jerry! Matthew! Look at her!"

Surprisingly, both Matthew and Jerry remained dead silent, ignoring her dramatic whines.

9

Once the door shut and they were gone, I wrapped my arms around Mackenzie. "It's over, it's over now. I'm here. I'm taking you home."

Mackenzie sobbed so hard she seemed almost delirious. "Can we really go home?"

"Yes," I whispered gently.

She pulled back, staring at me with a sudden flash of clarity in her eyes. "Wait... the system said the interdimensional portal was closed! What price did you pay to open it?!"

10

After burying Bella, I spent weeks in the hospital undergoing intensive treatments to save my pregnancy.

Every single message I sent to Matthew vanished into the void.

Day after day, long needles were pushed into my veins. I hid under the thin hospital blanket every night, weeping until my eyes were raw.

A nurse recognized me as a former TV news anchor and asked for an autograph. On the wall-mounted TV, my old show was airing, but Betty was the one hosting it, smiling radiantly under the studio lights.

"So you stepped down because you got pregnant!" the nurse chattered happily. "I was wondering why Betty suddenly took over your spot. Hey, you industry insiders must know all the juicy gossip, right? Is it true that Betty secretly married the CEO of the Crawford Group?"

My hands froze.

I opened my phone and saw Betty’s latest social media update. She had posted a picture of the pink sports car Matthew gave her, tagging him publicly with the caption: A eighteenth birthday gift finally received at twenty-five.

She had also shared videos of a grand firework show and a custom drone light display. The icy billionaire had bent over backward to make her smile, unfazed by how cliché it was.

Then came a video of her cradling a fluffy, expensive kitten, tagging Matthew playfully: The very first life we are raising together.

Followed by an influx of comments asking about the backstory, Betty responded mysteriously: Shh! That's a secret between Matthew and me!

Shortly after, internet sleuths dug up an old photograph of a teenage Matthew and Betty feeding a stray calico cat behind an abandoned school building.

The tender smile on young Matthew’s face was something I had never seen in my seven years with him.

So, he was capable of smiling at a tiny creature. He didn't hate Bella because she was a cat; he hated her because her owner was me.

It all made sense now.

Love was never something logical. I had given Matthew seven years of my life, pouring my whole heart out for him. Yet the moment Betty walked back into the room, she won everything without even trying.