Chapter 1
I was notorious for being a drama queen—if it wasn't top-tier luxury, I wouldn't even look at it; if it wasn't custom-made, I wouldn't wear it.
Julian was absolutely obsessed with my diva attitude, right up until Theresa, the intern with her canvas bag, walked into the picture.
She was like an innocent little flower—bare-faced, always claiming she'd earn her place through hard work.
Julian's buddies started telling me, "You really need to dial back that princess attitude. Just look at Theresa—she's so down-to-earth."
Julian changed, too. He started griping that my perfume was overpowering, saying the clean scent of soap on Theresa was what felt genuine.
In my last life, I pathetically tried to imitate that intern, only to turn myself into a joke.
Now, with a second chance, Julian left me burning up with fever on the curb, just so he could rush Theresa to the hospital for a mere cold.
He said it like it was perfectly reasonable, "You have your own private doctor. She's got no one but me."
Seeing him so anxious over her, my stomach suddenly churned.
When did my standards for men sink this low? I wondered.
How did I ever fall for a guy this blind and oblivious? I thought to myself.
Watching their car drive away, I dialed up my dad.
"Dad, that guy you mentioned for the arranged marriage. He's more handsome than Julian, right? If he's good-looking, I'll marry him. Seriously, I'll do it right now," I said.
*****
The icy wind slashed across my face, and my fingers gripping the phone were pale from the cold. Julian's taillights disappeared into the rain without a single pause or second thought.
In my last life, I ran after his car like a crazy woman, my knees torn and bloody, only for him to snap, "Seraphina, can you stop being so shameless?"
This time, I just stood there, coldly watching that red glow vanish into the darkness.
My stomach was churning, and with a fever of 102.2°F, my vision started to blur.
On the other end of the line, my dad's voice was full of barely contained excitement and disbelief.
"Sera? You finally came around? Alexander might be a bit cold, but his looks are top-notch. He's a hundred times better than that pretty boy Julian!" my father said.
"Okay," I croaked, my throat feeling like I'd swallowed a piece of burning coal. "Have him come pick me up. Right now."
After hanging up, I crouched at the bus stop, rain dripping from my hair down my neck, the cold cutting right through me.
Ten minutes later, a black Maybach sliced through the downpour and rolled to a stop right in front of me.
The door swung open, and a man in a black coat stepped out.
He was tall, radiating an intense aura. Under the dim streetlights, his face looked like something sculpted by the gods—sharp, cold, and impossibly distant.
Alexander Sterling.
The real crown prince of the capital's elite. Even Julian would have to show him respect, maybe even light his cigarette if they crossed paths.
He glanced at me, seeing me in such a sorry state, and just barely furrowed his brow. Then he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around me.
"How did you get yourself into this state?" Alexander asked, his tone calm and cool.
His voice was rich and deep, like the low notes of a cello.
Before I could get a word out, my vision went dark. I passed out cold.
When I woke up again, I found myself in a VIP hospital suite.
An IV was in my hand, and Alexander was sitting on the nearby sofa, going through some files.
When he noticed I was awake, he closed his laptop. "You're up? The doctor said it's acute pneumonia. If you'd gotten here half an hour later, you could've ended up with brain damage."
I opened my mouth to thank him, but right then, a familiar commotion erupted outside the door.
"Doctor! Where's the doctor? Come take a look at Theresa, she's been sneezing nonstop!"
It was Julian's voice.
He sounded so anxious and panicked, like the world was about to end.
I tugged at the corner of my mouth in self-mockery. The soundproofing in this hospital was really good, or was it that enemies were bound to meet on a narrow road?
Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Your fiancé?"
"Ex-fiancé," I corrected, pulling out the IV and tossing aside the blanket. "I'm going to check out the drama."
Alexander didn't stop me. He just reached out to steady me. "Slow down."
At the end of the hallway, outside the ER, Julian was clutching Theresa, his face full of concern as he shouted at the nurse on duty.
"Can't you move any faster? She's really hurting here!" Julian demanded.
The nurse looked at him, clearly unimpressed. "Sir, there are patients from a car accident in critical condition ahead. This young lady just has a runny nose and a temperature of 99°F. That's not even considered a fever."
"99°F isn't serious? She's got a weak constitution! What if it turns into pneumonia?" Julian's eyes were red with worry.
I leaned against the wall and couldn't hold back a laugh.
"99°F is such a crisis. If you'd waited any longer, her sniffles might've healed themselves," I said, my tone full of sarcasm.
Julian whipped around, his face darkening the moment he saw me standing there in a hospital gown.
"Seraphina? What are you doing here?" he demanded.