Darkness.Then—pain.
Aria jerked awake with a sharp gasp, her chest tightening like she'd been drowning in a dream she couldn't remember. Her fingers gripped silk sheets. Too soft. Too clean.
This wasn't her bed.
Blinking hard, she sat up slowly. A golden chandelier above her head shimmered like it belonged in a five-star hotel—or a mansion. She inhaled. The air smelled faintly of roses and antiseptic.
Where the hell was she?
She looked down at herself. Pale arms. Thinner than she remembered. And her hands… smaller? Were those her hands?
"No," she muttered, her voice hoarse. "No way."
A phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her. She reached for it on instinct. The screen lit up, already unlocked.
[Mrs. Quinn]11 missed callsFrom: Housekeeper Lin, Doctor Lu, Mr. Quinn
Mrs. Quinn?
She blinked again. Harder. Then slowly turned toward the tall mirror across the room.
The face staring back wasn't hers.
It was porcelain-pale, with wide, stunned eyes, a delicate chin, and lips too soft for the expression of sheer horror curling across them.
"I'm not… her."
The words barely escaped.
Then the door creaked open.
A man walked in like he owned the world—and maybe he did. Broad shoulders. Cold eyes. A suit that screamed money and danger. Aria's breath caught in her throat.
Xander Quinn.
She knew that face. She'd stared at it on her phone screen more nights than she could count. The villain CEO from that twisted romance novel she used to binge-read after long shifts and longer cries.
He was real. Too real.
And he was staring straight at her.
"You're awake," he said, not even bothering to fake concern.
His voice was deep, bored, like he had somewhere better to be.
"What… happened to me?" she asked, forcing the words out.
"You fainted. Doctors said you were pushing yourself too hard again," he replied. "You should rest."
Again?
So this body had fainted before. Right. That tracked with what she remembered about this character—Aria Lin, the tragic background wife. The one who got maybe five chapters before dying quietly and leaving nothing behind.
She clutched the sheets tighter.
"Thank you," she said softly.
His brows twitched. "For what?"
"For bringing me back. For… caring enough to make sure I woke up."
He tilted his head slightly, like she'd just spoken in a different language. "I didn't do it for you," he said. "You're my wife. Barely. That's all."
Cold. Just like the book.
He turned to leave.
"Wait," she said, not even sure why. Maybe it was panic. Maybe instinct.
He paused but didn't turn around.
"I'm… sorry I worried you."
That made him glance over his shoulder. Just a little. Something flickered in his eyes—confusion? Suspicion? She couldn't tell.
Then the mask snapped back into place.
"Don't flatter yourself," he muttered. "Get some sleep."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence.
Aria exhaled, her hands trembling. She looked down at the wedding ring on her finger. Thin. Elegant. Fake.
This wasn't her life.
But it was now.
And if this really was the world of that novel—if Xander Quinn was really the villain destined to die unloved and alone—
Then maybe, just maybe… she could change the ending.
Not for him.For her.