Chapter 1

I was sold to the mafia boss, Stanley Blackwell, as an underling.

Every day was a fight for survival as I lived in constant fear.

Then a clueless girl, Tyra Wyatt, waltzed in.

Tyra claimed she was the destined heroine, here to win over the cold-hearted Stanley. She believed Stanley would soon abandon everything for her and they would ride off together into the sunset.

She yelled in my face, calling me a side character who didn't deserve to stand in her way.

But then I showed her the wedding ring Stanley gave me.

She completely lost it.

*****

The moment Tyra whispered she was undercover, I instantly clamped my hand over her mouth. Some truths were best left unspoken here.

But Tyra looked at me with pure disgust and shoved me away hard.

I slammed into the table behind me, too stunned by the sharp pain to react.

Tyra tossed her hair and sneered, "Don't act like we're friends. You're nothing but cannon fodder, not even worth my time."

Tyra was the new assistant.

We shared a room, but she never let me forget she thought her destiny was far above mine.

She looked down on everyone here and kept saying she had only one goal.

That was to win over the boss, Stanley.

As his personal assistants, we had more access to him than anyone, even staying in his home.

That put us in the best position to get close to him.

Tyra insisted we were all trapped inside some novel. She claimed she'd dreamed up the entire plot one night and was convinced she was the heroine, the one destiny had chosen to be the leading lady.

Yet, I was just a nobody, the kind of background character who didn't even get a name.

She said her dream had led her straight into this world, certain that the ruthless crime lord would become hers, soft only for her.

She believed in that dream like it was gospel, her eyes lighting up every time she talked about it.

I never argued, just gave her a half-hearted nod.

Tyra treated this whole thing like a childish game, completely clueless about the kind of monster Stanley really was.

Especially with her undercover status. She had no idea how much danger she was really in.

I tried to warn her not to reveal she was undercover, but Tyra just scoffed and called me a coward.

She snatched my blankets and pillows and tossed them onto the floor, her face twisted in disgust. "This room is mine now."

When I didn't react, she snapped, "Move it! I'm the main character here. Just wait until I end up with Stanley. You'll be out on the street."

I glanced at Tyra's sweet, innocent face. She really did look the part of the naive heroine. No wonder she was so delusional.

I got up and started making the bed for her. As soon as I moved, Tyra shot me a smug smirk.

I'd never seen Stanley with a girlfriend. To me, he was always untouchable, cold, ruthless, a king in both the underworld and the legitimate world. The kind of man no one dared cross.

His basement was like something out of a nightmare.

And here was Tyra, walking right into that nightmare with a grin, completely clueless.

*****

The next morning, Tyra put on a white dress.

She couldn't stop admiring herself in the mirror, clearly pleased with how she looked.

"No way Stanley can resist me," she whispered to herself.

She stood out in the crowd, so much so that even Stanley's eyes lingered on her for a moment.

Tyra leaned towards me, her face smug. "Did you see how he looked at me? He noticed me."

I nodded. Stanley looked annoyed. His brows were tightly knit.

But Tyra was lost in her fantasy, convinced he was already falling for her.

I didn't argue. I just quietly put some distance between us.

Stanley always asked for my coffee when he was working, because I'd add just a drop of hazelnut syrup.

He was picky about his coffee, but he was hooked on that hint of hazelnut.

I was carrying a fresh cup when Tyra suddenly charged toward me.

I stepped back to avoid her, but coffee sloshed all over the saucer. So much for keeping it elegant.

Tyra snapped, "Trying to steal my moment? Serving Stanley his coffee is my heroine scene."

I didn't have time for her drama, so I was about to make another cup.

But Tyra snatched it from me, not caring that it was already messy.

I frowned, "This one's spilled. I'll make a new one."

Tyra glared at me. "You just want to sneak it to him behind my back, don't you? Don't even think about it. I'm the heroine, his future wife."

She stared at me like I was her sworn enemy, hatred burning in her eyes.

I didn't want to engage, but she jumped in front of me, blocking my way.

"Stay away from my man," she hissed. "He's mine. Understand?"