“I’m sorry, sister. I swear I didn’t mean to steal Dorian from you. I’ll even give you the family estate. I can forgive you for everything you did to me in the past. But Dorian and I… we truly love each other!”

  “She’s faking it. Hey, Clarissa, stop pretending and get up already.”

  “Mr. Dorian, I think she really passed out!”

  “Throw some water on her!”

  The chaotic voices rang in her ears, making Clarissa’s head feel like it was about to explode.

  Pain. Sharp, throbbing pain.

  Shouldn’t she be dead? Why could she still hear people talking?

  Then, in the next second, a flood of memories surged into her mind.

  She had been in an accident. She was sure she had died. And yet, somehow, she had woken up inside a book—a novel she had read before.

  And worse, she wasn’t just anyone. She had become the villainous side character—the arrogant rich girl who lost everything: her family, her fiancé, her dignity. The one who tried to fight back and ended up destroyed.

  Like every cliché melodrama, the villainess was beautiful, accomplished, and wealthy. Sure, she was a little arrogant, but she wasn’t an actual monster. Meanwhile, the heroine was a plain-looking girl who had grown up poor. She had no skills, no achievements—nothing but her so-called kindness.

  Yet somehow, that was enough.

  With a single cup of coffee thrown at the male lead, she captured his attention. With a single act of indifference, she stole his heart.

  Oh, and of course, she was the real daughter of the Lancaster family—the true heiress. The villainess, Clarissa, had been mistakenly raised as the wealthy daughter, only to have her identity stripped away when the truth came out.

  Originally, the male lead had been engaged to Clarissa. She had been hopelessly in love with him. But the moment the heroine showed up, he discarded her like trash, declaring he had found his “true love.”

  Her life had fallen apart overnight. The family she thought was hers wasn’t. The wealth she had grown up with was taken from her. And the man she loved? He abandoned her without hesitation.

  So, of course, she had fought back.

  Now, in this timeline, she had come to take back what was rightfully hers. But things got out of hand. A fight broke out. She was shoved—her head hit the edge of a table—

  And just like that, she was dead.

  Clarissa let out a bitter laugh in her mind. In the original story, her character hadn’t died here. She had clung to Dorian, unwilling to break the engagement. She had tried to get back at the heroine, only to make things worse. Eventually, she crossed the final line—she tried to have the heroine assaulted.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  She failed, of course. And the punishment?

  The male lead, her former fiancé, had her raped by a gang of thugs.

  She was left to rot in a filthy alley, alone, broken, diseased. No one even claimed her body.

  Clarissa had been furious when she first read that part. The so-called “hero” had done something so brutal, so horrific—and yet the story acted like it was justified.

  Wasn’t that a crime? How the hell did he get away with that?

  Before she could process it further, ice-cold water splashed over her, making her body shudder violently.

  Her eyes flew open.

  The first thing she saw was a man—Dorian—holding another woman tightly in his arms. His eyes, dark and sharp, were filled with nothing but contempt as he looked at her.

  Dorian Lancaster. The prestigious heir of the Harrington family. Cold, powerful, handsome. The man she had once loved.

  And the woman in his arms?

  Lyra.

  She wasn’t particularly beautiful. At best, she was pretty in an ordinary way. But she had those big, innocent eyes—the kind that made men want to protect her.

  “See? I told you she was faking it,” sneered a voice.

  It was the Lancaster family’s butler—the first person to turn against her when the truth about her identity was revealed.

  Dorian’s jaw tightened as his disgust deepened. “Clarissa, do you have no shame? How dare you lay a hand on Lyra? Get over here and kneel. Apologize!”

  Clarissa parted her lips to speak, but before she could get a word out, Lyra beat her to it.

  “There’s no need, Dorian,” Lyra said softly, clutching his arm. “I know my sister didn’t mean it. She just… lost her way for a little while.”

  Tears welled up in her innocent-looking eyes as she turned to Clarissa. “Sister, Dorian and I truly love each other. If you want the family estate, I’ll give it to you. I just ask that you let me and Dorian be together...”

  “Lyra...” Dorian murmured, reaching for her hand. The ice in his gaze melted into something tender, something full of deep affection. “You’re too kind. Too naive.”

  “I don’t care about wealth. I just want to be with you...” Lyra gazed back at him, her voice trembling with emotion.

  It should have been a heart-wrenching, romantic moment.

  But from where Clarissa stood, it just made her want to vomit.

  She wiped the water from her face, then spoke calmly. “Fine. I agree. The estate is mine, and Dorian is yours.”

  Her words hit like a thunderclap, plunging the room into an eerie silence.

  Lyra’s wide, tear-brimmed eyes locked onto her in disbelief. “You...”

  Clarissa tilted her head, feigning innocence. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you just beg me to agree? Well, I have. Why do you suddenly look so reluctant?”

  “I—Of course, I agree!” Lyra blurted, her voice a little too loud. “Nothing is more important than Dorian!”

  Clarissa gave her a small, knowing smile. She had zero interest in this so-called male lead. She wasn’t about to waste her life playing the role of some jealous, pathetic villainess.

  “Clarissa, don’t push it!”

  Dorian’s voice snapped through the air like a whip.

  “That’s right!” The butler, Hugo, piped up angrily. “Miss Lyra is the true daughter of the Lancaster family! How could we possibly let a fraud like you take the family estate? Keep dreaming!”

  From an angle no one could see, Lyra let out a quiet sigh of relief. She blinked up at Dorian, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Dorian, it’s okay if I don’t get the inheritance. As long as I have you. My sister… she has nothing.”

  “Lyra, you’re too soft-hearted,” Dorian said with a heavy sigh, as if she were some saint suffering at the hands of a cruel world. Then, he turned to Clarissa, his expression hardening with pure disdain.

  “You want the Lancaster family’s fortune? Over my dead body!” His voice was filled with scorn. “Even if Lyra were foolish enough to agree, the rest of the family never will!”

  Clarissa simply curled her lips into a lazy smirk. There was no anger, no desperation—none of the fiery resentment the old Clarissa would have shown.

  “Oh? So what now? You expect me to just walk away empty-handed?”