Chapter 1

"Congratulations, Cynthia. You have completed ninety-nine tasks for Gregory Evans. Complete the final one, and you will successfully return to your original world and resurrect your beloved, Grayson Perez."

The system's cold, mechanical voice echoed through my mind. My heart clenched violently, and a sudden mist clouded my eyes.

Five years. I'd been waiting for this moment—five whole years.

I don't belong here. In my world, I should have been walking down the aisle with the one who'd been by my side since childhood. But on the eve of our wedding, we were in a car crash—Grayson shielded me first. I walked away without a scratch. He died on the spot.

I was drowning in despair, barely holding on, until I stumbled into binding with a system. It pulled me into this world and gave me a chance to bring Grayson back.

The mission: do one hundred things for Gregory, New York's golden heir. Complete them all, and I'd go home to my world—and to him.

Now. One last thing to do.

And then it would all be over.

Chapter 1

I lay in the cramped room, the curtains so heavy they swallowed every sliver of light from outside. Only the little lamp by the bed was still on.

Then the system's icy voice rang through my skull.

"Congratulations, Cynthia. You have completed ninety-nine tasks for Gregory Evans. Complete the final one, and you will successfully return to your original world and resurrect your beloved, Grayson Perez."

My fingers clenched into the blanket, knuckles white. My eyes burned hot, fast.

Five years. I'd been waiting for this day—five whole years.

I wasn't from this world. In mine, right before the wedding, the crash—Grayson yanked the wheel hard left, turning his side straight into the oncoming car. Glass exploded everywhere. He threw himself over me, covering my whole body.

I heard the dull thud of shards sinking into flesh, felt warm blood soaking down his back, dripping onto my white gown. One drop. Two. More and more. I came out fine—not even a scratch. He grew cold in my arms, his eyes still fixed on me, his lips moving, but nothing came out. I held him and sobbed until my voice gave out, until I couldn't squeeze out another tear, just dry heaves and a chest that felt completely hollow.

Then the system appeared. It said if I crossed into another world and did one hundred things for a man named Gregory Evans, Grayson could come back.

So I came.

Five years. Over eighteen hundred days. I'd become the most talked-about lovesick fool in all of New York's high society.

Whenever anyone brought up the name Cynthia, they'd just smirk.

"Her? Gregory's shadow. Can't shake her off."

"If I were her, getting rejected that many times? I'd have crawled into a hole and died of shame."

"Everyone knows Gregory only has eyes for Nancy. She's delusional."

I'd heard it all so many times it was practically background noise. I didn't dodge it. Didn't talk back. Just smiled. Because only I knew—the "love" they kept going on about? It was just the shell around my mission. The more they looked down on me, the more convincing my act became.

Then my phone buzzed. I grabbed it from the nightstand and hit answer.

"Hey, Cynthia, get over here now! Gregory killed someone!"

It was Patrick, one of the guys in Gregory's circle. The one who loved mocking me the most. He hung up before I could even respond.

Three in the morning. Snow pounding down outside. The streets were empty, the streetlights swaying in the wind, casting blurry yellow pools onto the white ground.

I didn't even grab an umbrella. I ran out in my slippers. The snow soaked through them in seconds, the cold creeping up my ankles. But I didn't care—Gregory couldn't go down. If he died, my mission was over. Grayson would never come back.

By the time I reached the private club, I was soaked through. Melted snow dripped from my hair, running down my face and onto the floor.

The private room was warm, the thick curtains blocking out the storm outside. The chandelier blazed overhead, empty bottles and scattered cards covering the table. Cigarette smoke and liquor stung my nose.

A man lay on the floor in the middle of the room. Black suit, face pale as paper, lips blue, eyes half-open with dilated pupils, chest completely still.

He looked dead.

A crowd stood around him. All of them were New York's elite, the rich kids with famous last names. When they saw me push through the door, every single pair of eyes landed on me like I was some kind of joke walking in.

Patrick swirled his glass, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, well, look who showed up. Look at you—frozen solid from that snow. So, what's your move? Gregory had a little too much to drink and now there's a body."

His tone was light.

A woman in a camel coat chimed in, her voice syrupy sweet. "I mean, sure, the Evans family has money and power, but murder is still murder. You can't just sweep a life under the rug."

Her words sounded urgent, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. She toyed with the diamond stud in her ear, lips curved into a smile.

Someone stepped up close to me, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol in my face. "Cynthia, you love Gregory more than anything, right? Why don't you take the fall for him?"

The room erupted in laughter. It crashed over me from every direction, messy and cruel.

I stood in the center of that room, my wet clothes clinging to my skin, shivering so hard my teeth chattered. I swept my gaze across all their faces—the ones who'd always treated me like a punchline, now laughing even harder.

"Fine. I'll do it."

No hesitation. My voice was calm when I said it.

The room went quiet for a beat. Then—"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Patrick doubled over, sloshing drink everywhere. The camel-coat woman clutched her stomach, laughing so hard her earrings swung wildly.

"What the hell did I say? This girl's got a screw loose!"

"Gregory, get out here! We won! She's willing to go to prison for you!"

Chapter 2

Through the laughter, someone stepped out from behind the screen.

He wore a perfectly tailored suit, the cufflinks at his wrists catching the light with every small movement. He was beautiful, but his eyes were cold as frost, his lips pressed into a thin line, his features sharp and sculpted like something out of a painting.

Gregory Evans.

Behind him followed the "dead" man from the floor, brushing dust off his jacket and shooting me a wink.

A setup. Another one of their little stunts.

"HAHAHA! Gregory, you see that? Cynthia's so head-over-heels for you she'd walk into prison without blinking!"

Patrick clapped Gregory hard on the shoulder. "Just give her the damn donation form already! With a brain this lovesick, forget a heart—you could ask for her head and she'd hand it over with a smile!"

I stood there, hair plastered to my face, slippers full of slush, toes numb from the cold. But my face gave nothing away. Not a flicker.

Gregory walked up to me. He had a head on me, looking down with those dark, unreadable eyes.

He took a file from his assistant and held it out to me. "Since you're willing to go to prison for me, how about this?"

Brown paper envelope. Crisp, heavy stock.

I flipped open the first page.

VOLUNTARY HEART DONATION AGREEMENT.

Page after page of fine print, all boiling down to one thing: I'd have my heart removed in surgery and given to someone else.

I looked up, straight into his eyes.

"Nancy has heart disease," he said flatly, no emotion in his voice. "You're the only match in the entire city. Don't worry—you won't die. I've had an artificial heart custom-made for you overseas. It'll keep you functioning."

He paused. Something flickered in those cold eyes—brief, barely there.

"Cynthia, if you're willing to give your heart to Nancy—"

He leaned in, lowering his head close to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper, warm breath brushing my skin.

"I'll marry you."

The room went silent. Everyone was waiting for my reaction, like they were watching the climax of a show.

I knew he loved Nancy. Everyone knew.

He'd loved her for over a decade. Grew up with her, made her laugh, and then she chose another man and left the country before he even got the chance to confess. He waited in silence for seven years. When she got dumped, when she got sick, he flew over the second he heard and brought her back, using every resource he had to find her a matching heart.

Now, to keep Nancy alive, he was willing to marry a woman he didn't love.

Pathetic. And pitiful.

I looked down at the donation agreement. The signature line sat empty.

Then I lifted my head and smiled.

"Sure. I'll do it."

Light and easy.

Someone in the room sucked in a sharp breath.

Gregory's pupils contracted. "You… really mean it?"

He'd probably prepared a whole speech. Had contingencies for if I refused, leverage to use against me. But he never expected me to say yes that fast.

I kept smiling, my voice soft. "Whatever you ask of me—I'll do it."

Giving my heart to the woman he truly loved.

That was my hundredth task for him.

Once it was done, I could go home. I could see Grayson again.

Gregory's throat bobbed. He looked at me, drenched and shivering, pale from the cold—and something in those frozen eyes seemed to crack.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the line. Neat strokes. Steady hand.

He stared for a long time. Long enough that someone nearby started clearing their throat. When he finally snapped out of it, his voice came out rough. "The surgery is scheduled for two weeks from now. I'll make sure everything's arranged. It won't be too hard on you."

I nodded, still smiling.

But inside, I'd never felt lighter.

Two weeks. And I'd be gone.

Fine.

Chapter 3

The dust had settled. I knew Gregory didn't want to see me anymore, so I turned to leave.

But I had barely taken a few steps when my vision went black, and my body tipped backward without warning.

Gregory was fast. He caught me before I hit the floor.

Only then did he notice my clothes were completely soaked through, my fingers cold as ice, and on my feet, a pair of slippers.

I had been in such a rush leaving that I hadn't even changed my shoes.

The crowd watched, snickering at my state.

"Must have been in a real panic to run out in slippers in this weather. Aren't your feet freezing off?"

"Got to put in the effort if you want Gregory's attention, right?"

"She already agreed to donate her heart. Gregory, just leave her with the staff. Let them deal with it."

Gregory looked down at me, slumped against him, my face pale and frozen. Something heavy lodged in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Without thinking, he scooped me up into his arms.

Glancing at the stunned faces around him, his voice went cold. "Her body can't have any issues for the next two weeks. I need that heart in perfect condition."

With that, he carried me out and left.

I don't know how long I was out. When I finally started to stir, everything felt fuzzy.

Through the haze, I sensed someone holding me, gently bringing water to my lips. Their touch was so warm, so tender. It reminded me of Grayson. He was the only one who had ever held me like that.

Five years. I had missed him so much it was driving me crazy. Every night, I dreamed he came back to me.

This time, I thought I was dreaming again. My hand shot out and gripped theirs, my voice trembling with joy. "Grayson!"

A sharp pain shot through my wrist, and I snapped awake.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring at Gregory. His expression was dark, a hint of anger flickering in his gaze.

He frowned. "Who were you calling?"

I bit my lip, flustered. Glancing around the unfamiliar room, I scrambled to change the subject. "How... how am I at your place?"

His frown didn't ease. "After the heart transplant, we're getting married. Of course you're staying here."

"Now, who were you calling?"

He wasn't the type to push for answers. He had never shown that much interest in me before. But today, for some reason, he wouldn't let it go.

I couldn't meet his eyes. "I love you so much. Who else would I be calling?"

Gregory didn't press further. He bought it, obviously. After all, everyone knew how much I loved him. Who else would I call?

He stood, grabbed a set of clothes from the side, and tossed them onto the bed in front of me. "Get dressed when you're ready. We're going to the hospital."

Chapter 4

At the hospital, I found out Gregory had already arranged a full round of tests for me, all to make sure the heart in my chest could be transplanted safely into Nancy's.

I watched the needle slide into my vein and remembered. I used to be terrified of shots.

Every time, Grayson would laugh softly, pull me into his arms, and cover my eyes with his hand. "Shh, baby, don't be scared. I'm right here."

But now he was lying in a cold coffin. He would never call me "baby" again.

A doctor rattled off post-surgery instructions beside me.

"Miss Martinez, the artificial heart will keep you alive, but it's not a real organ. You won't be able to run, eat spicy food, stay up late, get emotional. You can't even raise your voice too much."

"To put it bluntly, you'll be living like a walking corpse. There's really no difference."

A walking corpse? What did it matter? Without Grayson, being alive or dead was the same thing.

Besides, I never belonged here anyway. Once this last task was done, the system would declare my mission complete. My body would die, and my soul would go back to my world. Artificial heart or not, I was going to die either way.

Gregory noticed I wasn't paying attention, and his eyes went cold. "Having second thoughts?"

I snapped out of it, shook my head lightly, and answered carefully. "No. Everything I promised you, I'll follow through."

Our eyes met. He stared into mine, into that gaze full of adoration, the one I had worn for five years straight. And for the first time, something about it made him flustered.

He looked away quickly, muttered something about making a call, and pushed through the door.

I sat there, zoning out, letting the doctor finish the rest of the lecture.

Half an hour passed. Gregory still hadn't come back. I thanked the doctor and left on my own.

But I had barely stepped into the hallway when I ran into Nancy, just coming out of her own check-up.

It was our first time meeting face-to-face. We both stopped cold.

I had seen Nancy's photos more times than I could count. Gregory's house was covered with them, her as a child, a teenager, a grown woman. He had never missed a single moment of her life, and I had watched her grow and change right alongside him.

She looked just like her photos. Beautiful. Fragile. A little pale, like a porcelain doll in a shop window.

I wasn't looking for a conversation. I was about to walk past when she called out from behind me.

"Miss Martinez. I'm sorry. If it weren't for me, Gregory wouldn't have forced you to donate your heart."

"I know you'll suffer after the surgery."

I turned back, my voice flat. "I'm doing this willingly."

It was always my choice. This was the only way to bring Grayson back.

My calm seemed to crack something in her. Her lips curled into a cold smile, her beautiful face carrying a hint of smugness.

"I know you only agreed because Gregory promised to marry you."

"Too bad you miscalculated. I'm not going to let that happen."

Chapter 5

I was still processing what she meant when Nancy suddenly lunged at me.

Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and slapped herself across the face. Hard. Once. Twice. Three times.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Martinez. This is all my fault. If I hadn't gotten sick, you wouldn't have to give up your heart. If hitting me makes you feel better, go ahead, hit me."

A gust of air whipped past me before I even saw him coming. A brutal shove sent me flying sideways. I stumbled, my head cracking against the wall. Something warm trickled down my forehead, red flooding my vision. But Gregory didn't even glance at me. He was too busy pulling Nancy into his arms.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

Nancy collapsed against him, tears streaming down her face. "Don't blame Miss Martinez. She's being forced to give me her heart, of course she's upset. Whatever she does to me, I deserve it."

Looking at her pathetic, pitiful act, Gregory's face twisted, anger mixed with tenderness.

And all of that anger landed on me.

His eyes cut into me like a blade. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one who agreed to donate, and now you're causing trouble? I made this decision, not her. Why are you taking it out on Nancy?"

He didn't even give me a chance to speak. He just turned to Nancy. "How many times did she hit you?"

Nancy looked up weakly, biting her lip. "Three..."

"Gregory, please. Just let it go."

He stroked her hair gently, soothing her. Then he turned to his security team. "You heard her. I want thirty."

Dark shadows closed in around me. Through the gaps, I watched Gregory lift Nancy into his arms like she was made of glass.

Then the first slap landed. Then another. And another.

It hurt. God, it hurt so much. My eyes were barely staying open.

If Grayson were here, he would protect me.

But he wasn't. No one was.

---

I don't know how long it took, but eventually the guards dragged me back to the Evans estate.

For the next few days, I was confined to the house. Gregory didn't come back.

I found out what he was doing through the news.

Prime-time coverage. A full ten minutes dedicated to New York's most eligible bachelor and his relentless pursuit of the woman he truly loved.

He bought a luxury yacht. Just to see her smile.

She liked diamonds, so he flew to South Africa and bid on the world's largest pink diamond. Delivered it to her personally.

She couldn't eat, so he brought in Michelin-star chefs. When that didn't work, he cooked for her himself.

Every society girl in New York was green with envy.

I watched it all like it had nothing to do with me.

Three days later, Nancy's birthday.

Gregory's assistant showed up with a gown. I was to attend the party and apologize to Nancy in front of everyone.

I didn't want to go. But the assistant's words were ice. "Mr. Evans said you're coming, whether you like it or not. Even if I have to drag you there myself."

For Nancy, he would toss my feelings aside without a second thought.

I stared at my reflection, cheeks still flushed, marks not fully healed. My eyes burned as I reached for the foundation, patting layer after layer over the bruises, trying to hide what they had done.

Almost there.

I told myself, over and over.

Almost there. The mission would end soon. And I would finally get what I came for.

Chapter 6

The party was on the yacht Gregory had bought for Nancy.

Every detail, they said, was personally planned by him. Endless red roses. Custom chocolates engraved with her name. Fireworks that lit up the entire skyline. Everything screamed devotion.

And in the middle of it all, Gregory, amid applause and cheers, placed a necklace around Nancy's neck, the "Heart of True Love," a century-old treasure worth hundreds of millions.

The crowd went wild.

"That's the necklace Princess Diana wore! Sotheby's just auctioned it off. Some big shot bought it for his true love. Never thought it was Evans!"

"Everyone's seen how much Evans loves Wilson all these years. Money, power, looks, he's got it all. And he's waited for her, quietly. He turned this city upside down just to find her a heart. If he were a match, I swear he would give his own. How can Wilson not say yes to a man this devoted?"

In the corner, where the light didn't reach, I watched.

No sadness. No jealousy. Just one thought circling my head. A few more days. Just a few more days. I couldn't afford any more trouble. I had to stay away from Nancy.

I was about to slip out when Nancy broke through the crowd and came straight for me.

A knot tightened in my chest. I turned to leave, but she was faster. Her hand clamped onto my arm.

In the dim light, with her back to the crowd, she leaned in and whispered coldly, "Cynthia. Haven't you learned your lesson yet? You dare show your face here? Today, I'll make sure you understand exactly how wrong you were to keep clinging to Gregory."

She reached up, pulled the necklace from her throat, and tossed it overboard.

Then she shoved me back, her face shifting to shock. "Miss Martinez! Are you insane? Even if you're jealous of how Gregory treats me, how could you throw his gift into the ocean?"

Heads turned. Gregory rushed over, pulling Nancy close. "What happened? Did she hurt you again?"

Again. The word stung. Pathetic, really. Because I knew, no matter how obvious her lie, I would take the fall for it.

And sure enough, Nancy was already in tears. "Gregory, Miss Martinez threw your necklace into the sea!"

Gregory's face went cold enough to freeze the air. His eyes locked on me like daggers. "Did you not hear a single word I said?"

He turned back to Nancy, voice softening. "It's fine. It was just a necklace. I'll buy you a new one, whatever you want."

But Nancy kept crying, pushing against his chest and reaching for the railing. "No! That one meant something to me. I want that one!"

Gregory's jaw tightened. He held her closer. "You're sure you need that one back?"

She nodded fiercely. "Yes."

His eyes flicked to me, his tone flat and cold.

"Then whoever lost it goes and gets it."

And before I could react, he shoved me overboard.

Chapter 7

"Help... someone help!"

The freezing water swallowed me whole, leaving only a sliver of light above. Then that too faded away.

I closed my eyes, my body growing heavier and heavier. I was so tired. So exhausted. I just wanted to sink and sleep.

No... I couldn't. Not yet. I still had one last thing to do. If I didn't finish it, I'd never see Grayson again.

That thought shot through me like a jolt of electricity. My eyes flew open. I dug deep, found something I didn't know I had, and clawed my way up toward the surface.

When I finally dragged myself onto the shore, I was completely spent. Water burned in my chest, my lungs on fire, coughing so hard I thought they'd burst. I clung to the rocks, gasping, feeling like a pathetic, half-drowned rat.

Before I could catch my breath, a dull thud hit my shoulder—then I was kicked back into the water.

On the bank, a row of bodyguards in suits stared down at me, faces blank. "Mr. Evans said you're not allowed back on land until you find the necklace."

I choked on another mouthful of seawater before steadying myself.

So that's how it was. If I didn't find it, they weren't letting me go.

With no other choice, I dove down. Over and over.

Three hours. Countless dives. My fingers were numb and wrinkled, my whole body frozen stiff—but I finally found it. The necklace Nancy had tossed.

When I got back up, I couldn't even feel my own limbs. A guard tossed me a change of clothes and told me to get dressed.

Shaking violently, I took the clothes and stumbled into the restroom.

That's when I heard footsteps. Voices. Familiar ones.

Nancy and her circle of friends.

"Nancy, Evans is absolutely crazy about you. That necklace was worth a fortune, and he just handed it over without blinking. The second you cried, he looked like he'd tear his own heart out for you."

"You used to say you only saw him as a brother, ran off with your ex. Then the ex split the second he heard about your heart condition. Gregory never left. After everything he's done for you, even a stone would crack."

Nancy laughed, a hint of smugness in her voice. "You fell for that too? Men always want what they can't have. As long as I keep Gregory on a string, he'll love me forever. That's way better than actually being with him."

Gasps from her friends. "Wait—so you leaving with your ex was all an act?"

"You've been playing the long game this whole time!"

Nancy chuckled. "Of course. Is there any other man out there who compares to Gregory?"

"That guy was just a prop. I brought him in to make Gregory jealous."

"And look at him now—wasted away, pining for me all these years."

Her friend clapped. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

"Just don't push it too far, Nancy. I heard Gregory's marrying Cynthia to get her heart for you. If that happens, all your scheming goes down the drain."

Nancy's voice turned confident. "I've got it under control."

"Besides, Gregory doesn't give a damn about her. A few days ago, I slapped myself three times, and he had her slapped thirty times. Tonight, I threw that necklace in the ocean, and he threw her in after it without a second thought. She's still down there. I've got plenty of ways to make her life hell. Trust me—that wedding's not happening."

Their voices faded, footsteps retreating until the restroom fell silent again.

I stepped out slowly, my phone in my hand.

The recording app was still running.

So that's what his so-called true love was really like.

I hit stop and stared at the complete file, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. I'd leave this for Gregory. One last gift before I went.

Chapter 8

By the time I got back to the Evans estate, it was past midnight.

I pushed open the door, exhausted—and there he was. Gregory, sitting on the couch, legs crossed, eyes cold and fixed on me.

His jaw tightened when he saw me. "I already warned you. Why do you keep going after Nancy?"

So he'd been waiting. Just to interrogate me.

My hand drifted toward my pocket, toward the phone with the recording. But the second my fingers touched the cold metal case, I stopped myself.

With the way he felt about Nancy right now, even the truth wouldn't reach him. He'd probably think I'd cooked it up myself.

No. The best time for that recording was after I was gone.

Because the dead don't lie.

I forced a smile and looked up, brushing him off. "Just take it as me loving you too much. I'm so jealous of her I can't help myself."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked to my room.

Behind me, Gregory sat frozen, his eyes fixed on my retreating back, something unreadable flickering across his face.

---

The next morning was Grayson's birthday.

Gregory left early. Good. It meant I could celebrate Grayson without looking over my shoulder.

Every year on this day, I'd bake him a cake, pick out a gift, and we'd sit together laughing, blowing out candles, making wishes.

The memory made my lips curl up before I could stop it.

I spent the whole morning in the kitchen, cooking up a feast—all his favorites. I set the table, arranged the cake, made everything perfect.

Then I pulled out Grayson's photo, tracing my finger over his handsome face.

"Happy birthday..."

Before I could even say his name, the door swung open.

Gregory strode in.

Our eyes locked. The air shifted. I panicked, quickly tucking the photo away.

Gregory stared at the table—the food, the cake, the candles—his expression flickering with confusion, then something darker.

"How did you know it's my birthday today?"

I looked down. Right. The system had told me once. This was also Gregory's birthday.

The Evans family had two sons. Gregory—cold, reserved, the older one—was always overlooked. His brother's birthday was a day apart, and their parents never remembered Gregory's. Only his brother's. Then they all died in a car crash—his parents and brother—and even in death, their bodies were curled around the younger son.

He'd never celebrated his birthday since. Not once. Even Nancy, his precious Nancy, never remembered.

So right now, he had no idea what to do with any of this.

I didn't know what to say either. I couldn't exactly tell him I wasn't doing this for him. So I stayed quiet.

But to Gregory, my silence looked like confirmation.

He walked toward the table, step by step, something raw flickering behind his cold expression.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, piped up from the side. "Mr. Evans, Miss Martinez spent the whole day preparing this surprise for you. All by herself. I saw her almost burn her hands in the kitchen."

Mrs. Miller and I got along well. Over the years, I'd always been kind to her, helped her out when I could. She meant well. She was trying to help me.

Gregory stared at the spread for a long moment. Then he pulled himself together.

"Don't do this again," he said flatly. "I don't want any of this."

Chapter 9

Even so, he sat down anyway, picking up the knife to cut the cake.

"Wait!"

I reached out and stopped him, grabbing the candles and sticking them into the cake. "You haven't made a wish yet."

Gregory looked caught off guard. His fingers—long, elegant—trembled slightly before he pulled his hand back.

He'd never had a birthday. He'd forgotten the part about candles and wishes.

Once the candles were lit, I nudged him to make a wish. He muttered something about it being annoying, but finally lowered his voice and said, "I hope Nancy's surgery goes well. That she'll be safe and sound."

The words hung in the air. His gaze drifted to me, almost unconsciously. When he saw the light in my eyes dim, something in his chest twisted.

He frowned. Then, almost as if he couldn't help himself, he added, "And I hope yours goes well too. That you'll be safe."

That was the end of it. He stood up to leave.

But right at that moment—without any warning—the chandelier above came crashing down.

The second I saw it falling toward him, my heart seized. If my mission target died, everything would fail.

I didn't think. I just launched myself at him. "Watch out!"

Shards of crystal rained down like shooting stars, the whole room turning into something out of a dream—brilliant, chaotic, beautiful.

And in the middle of that blazing light, I collapsed.

Before everything went black, I caught a glimpse of Gregory's face. He was sprinting toward me—frantic, desperate.

I must've been delirious from the impact.

Because there was no way he'd look at me like that.

I drifted in and out for what felt like forever. When I finally opened my eyes, I was in a hospital room.

Gregory was sitting by my bed. The moment he saw me wake up, his whole demeanor went icy. "Why did you do that? Do you have a death wish?"

My head was still foggy, but I knew one thing for sure—I couldn't tell him the truth.

If he'd died, how would I complete my mission? How would I bring Grayson back?

I held his gaze, steady as I could. "Because I love you."

Gregory froze. He was silent for a few seconds. "Get some rest," he said. Then he left the room.

---

The surgery date was closing in. But Gregory started acting strange.

He visited every day. Brought my favorite desserts.

Probably just making sure I wouldn't back out. Last few days—he'd want to keep me sweet.

He didn't need to worry, though. I wanted this surgery more than he did.

I'd been in bed too long. I needed to move. So I got up and walked around.

At the stairwell, I caught the sound of voices—heated, arguing.

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. I was about to leave when I heard my own name.

Gregory and his friends. Fighting over Nancy.

"Gregory, what the hell are you thinking? You've loved Nancy your whole life. Now she's threatening to kill herself if you marry Cynthia, and you're still dragging your feet?"

A long silence. Then Gregory's voice came through, cold and measured. "If I don't marry her, she won't donate."

The others let out relieved laughs. "Relax. We've all seen how crazy Cynthia is about you. Even if you don't marry her, she'll still go through with it."

"Then you don't have to throw away your happiness. And there's still a shot with Nancy!"

"You've always wanted her, right? And honestly, I've seen the way she's been looking at you lately. No one can resist that kind of devotion."

"She won't say it out loud, but she's definitely falling for you."

They kept going, throwing argument after argument at him. But Gregory stayed quiet.

Finally, they realized something was off. "Gregory—what are you hesitating for? Wait. Don't tell me you're actually falling for Cynthia?"

That seemed to snap him back. His expression hardened, his voice dropping to ice. "Falling for her? That's never going to happen."

I smiled to myself in the hallway. Didn't stick around to hear the rest. Just turned and walked away.

Chapter 10

Back in my room, Gregory showed up within minutes.

I knew exactly what he'd come to talk about—whatever his buddies had been pushing him on.

And sure enough, he sat down and cut straight to the chase. "Nancy doesn't want me sacrificing my happiness to keep her alive. She refuses to accept your heart this way."

"I'm sorry. About the marriage—I'm taking it back. But I'll grant you one wish. Anything. As long as it's not marriage."

It all clicked. Nancy's words that day in the restroom—I'm not going to let that wedding happen. This was her move.

I looked at him, calm as still water. "My wish is—move the surgery up."

Gregory's composure cracked. He stared at me for a long moment before finally finding his voice. "That's your wish? The only thing you want is to have the surgery earlier?"

I nodded, nothing but clarity in my eyes. "Yes. I want you to see Wilson小姐 healthy as soon as possible."

And I'd get to see Grayson healthy too.

Gregory. You get what you want. I get what I want. Everyone wins.

He was completely thrown. He'd pictured a hundred different ways I'd react—tears, begging, throwing out demands he'd have to shut down. Not this.

If I'd sobbed, pleaded, thrown a fit—it would've been easier to handle.

He rubbed his brow, frowning hard. Finally, he said, "Cynthia... why do you love me this much?"

Our eyes met. And through his dark gaze, I saw someone else. The one I'd loved and lost.

I smiled, my voice steady as stone. "I came to this world for you."

It was the truth. He was the whole reason I existed here.

But Gregory heard it as a confession. Something flickered in his eyes. After a pause, he said, "After the transplant, I'll prepare a surprise for you. Consider it my apology."

I smiled softly, then reached for a box by the bed and handed it to him. "Funny you say that. I've got a surprise for you too."

He blinked, confused. He started to open it—but I stopped him.

"Wait. Don't open it until after my surgery."

"Why?"

"Because the surprise only works that day."

Inside the box was a single item—a recording pen.

The one with Nancy and her friends.

This was my gift to him. Repayment for the thirty slaps. Repayment for those three hours in the freezing ocean.

Gregory didn't catch the weight behind my words. Surgery was tomorrow—he didn't want to fight about something this small.

He gripped the box tight and nodded.

---

Surgery day. I was wheeled into the OR in a sterile white gown.

As I moved past him in the hallway, Gregory stood watching. Something in his chest seized—so violently it knocked the color from his face.

Like something important was slipping away. Like he was losing something he couldn't name.

He grabbed the surgeon's arm before he could follow me in, his voice rough. "Are you absolutely sure the artificial heart won't fail?"

The doctor nodded quickly. "Mr. Evans, the technology is well-established. Miss Martinez will be fine."

He finally breathed.

Then he sat down on the bench outside.

Inside the OR, I stared up at the blinding white lights, my heart pounding so loud it filled my ears.

Finally. Finally.

I'd waited so long for this.

Soon—everything would end.

My love would wake up. And everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

The noises around me started to blur. Then—darkness.

I don't know how long I was out. But when the transplant was done, the voice I'd been waiting for finally came through—

"Congratulations, Cynthia. Mission complete. Your lover has been resurrected. You will now be removed from this world."

The next second—flatline. The monitor screamed.