Chapter 1
I completed tasks in a hundred novel worlds just to save my boyfriend's leg.
But on the day before our engagement, I accidentally saw his chat history with his assistant.
And that assistant was Emily Carter, the poor student my family had supported.
At that moment, I lost all faith in our relationship.
I turned to the system and exchanged all my points for three wishes.
First: Make Michael Grant suffer constant, unbearable pain every day.
Second: Make Michael's leg break as it should have.
Third: Make Michael live in lifelong poverty and hardship.
Everything Michael had was from me, and I could easily take it all back.
*****
When I saw those chat logs, I kept blinking, thinking I must be seeing things.
But I had to face the truth. It really was Michael and his assistant's chat window.
Her contact name was "Sweetie," and she used an avatar I knew all too well. She was always sending cutesy emoticons, flirting with Michael in every single message.
Michael spoiled her, never missing a chance to reply.
He'd call her "Sweetie" and drop seven figures on a dress for her without even blinking.
He'd put on a serious face and tell her not to drink anything cold when she was sick, and then send her 30 thousand dollars as a reward for being so tough.
They even talked about the details of their steamy nights together. She sent a voice message, whining in that sweet, flirty tone. "You left hickeys all over my neck. How am I supposed to show my face at work now?"
Michael replied smugly, "Let everyone know you're taken."
She pouted, "You're my sister's fiancé, not my boyfriend."
Michael scoffed, "Fiancé? We're not married yet. Your sister, Rachel, is nothing. She can't even compare to you."
They even secretly tried on the engagement dress—the one I designed myself.
They messed around so much that they actually tore a few crystals right off the dress.
The chat logs just kept going, like there was no end to them.
I felt sick to my stomach, but I couldn't stop the tears from spilling out.
Michael's sudden coldness, the love he took back from me, his urge to show off, and who he was paying attention to were all explained.
His phone rang. It was Michael, using someone else's phone to call me.
"Rachel, is my phone at home? You didn't mess with it, right? I already sent Emily over to pick it up. Don't freak her out," he said.
Before I could even get a word out, he hung up without a second thought.
Their betrayal hit me so hard that I felt like I was going to throw up.
The pain, late but overwhelming, crept in from every direction, squeezing me tight. I could barely breathe.
But when the pain hit its peak, an unexpected calm spread through me.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
I hadn't expected Emily to get here so quickly. I took a deep breath and turned to open the door.
When I opened it, Emily was still leaning against the door from knocking and ended up lurching forward.
Before she could steady herself, I stuck my foot out and tripped her.
She had some little accessories on her, and when she hit the ground, they jingled and chimed all over the place.
But to me, it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.
Emily looked up at me from the floor, her eyes glistening with tears that seemed ready to fall—like she'd rehearsed that pitiful look a thousand times.
There was nothing left of that scrawny kid who didn't even know how to use a pad back then.
For the first time, I saw her without that "older sister" filter. She wasn't a child anymore. She had the kind of charm that could make any man lose his mind.
She thought I was just goofing around with her, so instead of getting up, she grabbed onto my leg and wouldn't let go.
"Rachel, why did you trip me?" she pouted in that cutesy voice.
Hearing her voice just made me sick to my stomach. Back then, I really did treat her like my own sister.