As I walked, the humid air clung to me like a ghost—a reminder of the life I'd just lost. My mind, however, was trapped somewhere else: inside the plot of Trapped but By Whom.
The book was a mess of clichés and melodrama, but it had a twist so wild I couldn't put it down.
Here's the gist: my fiancé, the brooding CEO Jayden Lopez, was obsessed with the sweet, innocent heroine Jane. His best friend, the terrifying mafia boss Rage del Ferro, was also obsessed with her. They fought tooth and nail for her affection while I—Rue Sinclaire, the original villainess—wasted my time tormenting them and playing the nuisance.
In the climax, Rage kills Rue so he and Jayden can both be with Jane, and the three of them live happily ever after in some violent yet syrupy love triangle. Gross, but fine.
Except—plot twist.
Right before Truck-kun slammed me into reincarnation, I'd discovered Rage wasn't actually obsessed with Jane at all. He was obsessed with Jayden. Jane was just his pawn. Rage killed Rue not just for Jane's sake, but to shove himself closer to Jayden. Whether Jayden was secretly into him too—or whether they all ended up in a bigass mansion as some weird throuple—I never got to find out. Death by truck is hell on cliffhangers.
Tsk. This reality was so much more confusing than a simple villainess redemption arc.
Lost in that train wreck of a love triangle, I almost didn't notice the car screeching to a stop beside me. The window rolled down, and an red-haired man leaned out, all sharp angles and cocky smirk.
"Hey, pretty. Hop in. Jayden couldn't make it, so I came instead,"
he drawled, voice smooth as honey and twice as sticky.
I blinked at him, deadpan. Who the hell are you supposed to be?
Then it clicked. The red hair. The too-easy charm. The casual "princess." Oh. Kean Marco. Jayden's other best friend, the comic relief and walking red flag of the book.
"So you're the babysitter today?" I smirked, tilting my head. "Didn't realize I needed one."
For half a second, his eyebrows shot up in surprise—but then his grin widened, genuine now.
"Ouch, princess. Feisty. I like it. Way better than the usual 'Oh, Kean, you're handsome but you're not Jayden so piss off.' Normally, it's always Jayden this, Jayden that, my honey Jayden—blah, blah, blah."
I arched a brow. Wow. Man's really out here competing with a ghost fiancé.
Of course, I couldn't just tell him, I'm not attending this circus anymore, not when he was more useful than my already-useless, cheating fiancé. At least Kean drove a nice car to pick me the infamous villainess that everyone hated duh.
So, free ride? Don't mind if I do.
I slid into the passenger seat without buckling up. "Don't get your hopes up," I said flatly. "I'm just tired of the usual bullshit."
He laughed, clearly amused, and started the car. What followed was a duel of sarcasm and playful jabs. He tried to bait me; I smacked him back with sass. For once, a man didn't seem to know what to do with me—and the cracks in his womanizer mask showed just enough curiosity to make me smirk.
The sleek black car purred like a beast, carrying us down the road until finally, we stopped.
Not at a home. At a fortress. A sprawling mansion so massive it looked like the kind of place magazine photographers drool over.
"We're here, princess," Kean said as he shut off the engine. "Jayden's waiting inside."
My stomach twisted.
Before I died, before Truck-kun turned me into a silver-haired villainess, the last chapter I'd read had painted Jayden Lopez in brutal strokes: cold, ruthless, untouchable. A CEO who ruled boardrooms with the same icy grip Rage used to rule his mafia empire. The kind of man who didn't flinch, didn't bend, didn't care.
My mind raced. Was he secretly into Rage? Was he straight but oblivious? Or was he going to end up in a Rage-Jane-Jayden throuple straight out of a fever dream?
All I knew was this: I was Rue Sinclaire now. The villainess he hated.
And this? This was going to be one hell of a long day.