Chapter 1
Lucy White woke to blinding sunlight streaming through the windows.
She instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes, wincing as her fingertips brushed against a dull ache on her forehead. When she opened her eyes, the unfamiliar luxury hotel suite jolted her fully awake.
"What…?"
Her gaze swept over the scattered empty liquor bottles littering the floor before landing on the lone cake on the dining table. The hardened wax around the numeral "1" candle resembled forgotten vows.
Memories flooded back.
A year ago today, she had booked this very suite, baked that cake, and prepared a feast—all to celebrate her one-year anniversary with Michael Johnson. But once again, the man had stood her up.
Staggering to the bathroom, Lucy stared at her reflection. The girl in the mirror had porcelain skin, tear tracks still fresh on her cheeks. Trembling, she touched her face—this wasn’t a dream. She had truly been reborn.
The shrill ring of her phone shattered the silence.
The name "Richard Brown" on the screen made her eyes turn cold.
"Lucy, have you seen the trending news?" Her agent’s voice dripped with feigned concern.
Lucy clenched the phone. She remembered this day too well—Lily Green’s staged arrest, Michael rushing to play the hero, while she waited like a fool until dawn.
"I have," she answered, her voice eerily calm.
Richard chuckled awkwardly. "Lily had a little mishap last night. Michael, as her senior co-star, went to help. That’s why he missed your date."
"And?" Lucy’s laugh was icy. "How many times has he ditched me for Lily now?"
The line went silent for a beat.
"We need your cooperation," Richard pivoted. "Paparazzi caught Michael leaving the police station with someone, but they didn’t get Lily’s face. We want you to claim it was you."
Her nails dug into her palm.
In her past life, she had fallen for this exact trap—taking the blame for Lily’s scandal, only to be cyberbullied into depression. Meanwhile, Lily rode the wave of Michael’s fame straight to the top.
"Why?" Her voice was glacial. "You want me to be Lily’s scapegoat?"
"Don’t be ridiculous!" Richard snapped. "Michael’s just protecting his career. As his girlfriend, it’s natural for you to clarify things."
Lucy suddenly laughed.
How ironic. Only in death had she realized she was nothing but a disposable side character in some cheesy romance novel—while Lily was this world’s chosen heroine.
"Tell Michael Johnson," she enunciated each word, "that from today onward, Lucy White wants nothing to do with him."
Hanging up, she opened the trending page.
The hashtag #TopTierCelebrityMichaelJohnsonSeenWithMysteryWoman exploded across the screen. The photo showed him shielding a heavily disguised woman with unmistakable tenderness. Anyone would assume they were intimate.
Lucy traced the screen, her eyes burning with resolve.
This time, she would tear apart this cliché novel’s script with her own hands.