Chapter 1
Just as I splashed a glass of red wine all over my husband's precious Lily White, lines of blood-red bullet comments suddenly scrolled across my vision.
[Here it comes! The classic moment. Quick, screenshot!]
[This is it! Charles' about to slap Vivian hard to protect Lily!]
[So satisfying! I've been waiting forty episodes for this!]
My hand, holding the wine glass, froze in midair.
The next second, the on-screen comments became reality.
Charles Grant shielded Lily in his arms, his eyes cold as ice. "Vivian, are you done making a scene?"
I looked at him, then glanced at the flood of bullet comments racing across my vision.
[She's about to get kicked out and die in childbirth in some shabby apartment. Serves her right!]
I ran my hand over my barely showing belly and smiled.
Turns out, I was just Vivian in a book, and the fate waiting for my child and me was death.
Well then, let the game begin.
*****
The liquid in my glass was scarlet, just like blood.
The icy sensation at my fingertips reminded me this was all real.
The air felt frozen; every guest stared at my raised glass, their eyes full of eager anticipation and scorn.
[Splash it! Come on! Can't wait to see her get slapped!]
[Vivian is so dumb and toxic. She abuses her status as Mr. Grant's wife to do whatever she wants; serves her right!]
[Feel bad for our Lily. She didn't do anything, and now this psycho is humiliating her in front of everyone.]
The bullet comments in my vision scrolled even faster.
Lily, cradled protectively by Charles, gave me a tearful look, trembling as if I were some wild animal about to rip her to shreds, not just a woman three months pregnant.
"Ah, Charles, please don't blame Vivian," Lily spoke in a fragile voice, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have come back..."
Charles tightened his hold on her; his disgust for me was almost palpable as he stared.
"Vivian, drop your pathetic jealousy and apologize to Lily," he said, his voice cold as ice, each word landing like a blow.
According to the "script," I was supposed to let jealousy take over, throw the wine in a fit of rage, get slapped hard by Charles, and end up as everyone's joke.
My wrist trembled; not out of fear, but from a lucid awareness I'd never felt before.
I couldn't let myself do it.
If I did, I'd be playing right into their hands, proving I really am the "villainess" they want me to be, and giving Charles the perfect excuse to throw me out.
[Why isn't she moving? Is she lagging or what?]
[Hurry up and do it! I wanna see her get slapped!]
I took a deep breath. With everyone staring in disbelief, I twisted my wrist—not splashing the wine at Lily, but smashing the glass onto the floor right next to me.
Smash!
The sound of glass shattering was sharp and piercing.
Then, my body went limp, and I let myself fall backward.
Just before my eyes closed, I caught a glimpse of Charles' stunned face, and the flash of shock and frustration in Lily's eyes.
[What the hell? What's going on? This isn't how the script goes!]
[Is she playing the victim now? Vivian is actually pulling this kind of move?]
[Whatever. As long as Mr. Grant doesn't love her, she's doomed anyway!]
I didn't hit the cold floor; instead, I fell into a pair of arms that carried a faint scent of tobacco.
It wasn't Charles.
I struggled to open my eyes and found myself staring up at a stranger with striking, chiseled features. He was holding me, his brows knit in concern, his gaze probing.
"Ma'am, are you alright?" he asked.
I didn't answer, just gasped weakly, my eyes slipping past the stranger and landing on Charles, who stood only a few steps away.
He was still holding Lily, but his face was as dark as a thundercloud.
The guests around us started whispering among themselves.
"Isn't Mr. Grant going too far? His wife's pregnant, and he's still holding another woman in front of everyone."
"Seriously, look at Mrs. Grant; she's pale. She might've really hurt the baby."
"And Lily's no saint either, the way calling him like they're lovers or something."
The mood in the room was shifting; people were starting to talk.
I forced a weak smile, stretching out my trembling hand toward Charles, my eyes welling up with tears.
"Charles... my stomach hurts..."
My voice was barely above a whisper, trembling and full of helplessness.
Charles couldn't just stand there and ignore me now. If he wanted to keep up his image as the devoted CEO, he had no choice but to come over.
Sure enough, he let go of Lily and marched right over, his expression thunderous as he tried to pull me out of the stranger's arms.
But I held on tight to the stranger's arm, refusing to release my grip.
Using every bit of strength I had, I buried my face in his chest, my whole body trembling violently, my cries stifled and hopeless.
"Don't touch me... I'm dirty..."
[Whoa, what kind of legendary plot is this? Vivian is suddenly pulling the pity card now?]
[Why do I feel like... this is actually pretty cool?]
[Check out Charles' face; he looks absolutely pissed!]
Charles' hand froze in midair.
His face went from furious to awkward, then finally to that annoyed look.
"Vivian, what exactly are you up to?" he said in a low, warning tone.
My sobs grew louder, like I was the most pitiful person alive.
The man holding me seemed fed up. He looked up at Charles, his voice cold. "Mr. Grant, your wife is in really bad shape. I think you should get her to the hospital right now."
Charles' fists clenched hard.
Finally, he forced out through gritted teeth, "Don't trouble yourself."
He hauled me out of the stranger's arms and wrapped his arm firmly around my waist.
As we walked past Lily, I saw the poison of jealousy flash in her eyes.
Nice.
Things were just getting started.