The next morning, Lyn was dragged—half-asleep—into what could only be described as a fashion battlefield.
Maids bustled around her, pulling dresses from wardrobes that looked more expensive than her entire student debt. One held up a shimmering gown, another pressed a glittering tiara against her head.
"Miss Fionlyn, the gala is tomorrow evening," one chirped.
"Uh… you're talking to the wrong girl," Lyn muttered, tugging the tiara off. "I'm more of a hoodie-and-slippers kind of person."
The maids laughed politely, assuming it was a joke.
Lyn groaned inwardly. I'm living inside a period drama with Wi-Fi.
The dining hall wasn't much better.
Seventeen forks. Nine knives. A salad that looked more like art than food.
She stared at the table setting as though it were a boss level in a video game.
Across from her, Michael—Mich, she reminded herself—sat composed, every gesture precise. His aura filled the room even in silence.
The butler presented a grapefruit half. Mich picked up the knife with the same intensity one might use to end a dynasty.
He cut into it with ruthless efficiency. Juice exploded everywhere, dripping down the blade like blood.
"It yields poorly," he declared flatly.
Lyn's laugh escaped before she could stop it. "It's a citrus, not a rival CEO."
Mich blinked at her, as though he hadn't considered that distinction.
At the corner of the room, the two bodyguards loitered—Kai, stoic as a statue, and Daren, who leaned closer to whisper.
"He's so good at hostile takeovers."
Kai didn't blink. "The grapefruit has filed for bankruptcy."
Lyn choked on her orange juice, stifling laughter. Lady Amster, sitting elegantly nearby, raised an eyebrow.
"Fionlyn, dear, smaller bites," her mother said, voice cool.
"Yes, mother," Lyn replied automatically.
The word slipped out so easily it surprised even her. Warmth flickered in Lord Amster's eyes at the sound, his expression melting into fatherly joy.
The door opened. Rosa Vale glided in, carrying a sleek portfolio. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, her smile poised and professional.
"Mr. Lawrence," she said smoothly, offering Mich a stack of documents.
"Not now," Mich said without looking at her.
For a fraction of a second, Rosa's smile cracked. She turned gracefully, setting a folded invitation before Lyn.
"Miss Fionlyn, the charity gala. You'll be seated at Table One, if you feel well enough."
Lyn forced a bright grin. "I'll be there. If I faint, I'll faint fashionably."
Rosa's eyes flashed before her smile snapped back into place. "Of course."
Oh great, Lyn thought. She hates me already. And she's gorgeous. Perfect. Just what I needed.
Later, Mich escorted her into the estate gardens. The paths were perfectly trimmed, the flowers so vibrant they almost looked fake.
Lyn walked stiffly beside him, too aware of his eyes on her.
"So… we know each other," she said carefully.
"Since childhood," Mich replied without hesitation. "Our fathers built this city together. You used to follow me everywhere."
Lyn blinked. "That doesn't sound like me."
"You also swore I'd be your first bodyguard and your last catastrophe," he said softly.
She swallowed. Was that the real Fionlyn? Or me?
A butterfly landed delicately on her hand. She flinched, smacked it away, and gasped. "Oh no! I'm bad at nature."
Mich's lips curved faintly. "Then I'll buy you a fake garden. Easier to be brave in."
She laughed before she could stop herself. He looked at her as though that sound alone was worth empires.
Behind a statue, Kai and Daren crouched, trying to "blend in."
"Are we invisible?" Daren whispered.
"We are furniture," Kai replied.
That night, Lyn lay awake in her grand bed, staring at the ceiling. The phone on her bedside table buzzed again.
Her heart froze as she picked it up.
ENJOYING YOUR NEW LIFE? IT WON'T LAST.
Her breath caught. She typed quickly: Who are you?
A pause. Then: YOU'LL REMEMBER. WHEN IT MATTERS.
Her hands shook.
The curtains stirred in the breeze.
Outside, far across the rooftops, the hooded figure stood again, watching. The silver ring gleamed under the moonlight: A.M.
And the smile beneath the hood widened.