< Emily’s Story 1
Emily’s Story 1
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I booked myself a broody campus heartthrob with that “struggling artist”
vibe at the KTV.
His name was Karry Gatesby. Under
the shadowy glow, his razor–sharp
beauty cut through the champagne haze –
an ice sculpture adrift in a sea of velvet
decadence.
“Come and undress me, handsome.” I
swirled the amber liquid in my glass with
a slow, predatory smile playing on my lips.
My gaze mapped the topography of his
collarbones through cheap polyester.
He sat ramrod straight, eyes fixed
ahead.“Miss Kane, please behave yourself.”
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A laugh escaped me. Leaning back
against the plush velvet couch, I slowly
traced the rim of my glass. Then, with a
flick of my wrist, I baptized his
thrift store jeans in amber rebellion.
His eyes flared with a barely
contained rage. I said nonchalantly, “Let’s
make a deal, sweetheart. I’ll fund your
pretty little life until I’m tired of you
–
your mom’s hospital bills disappear as
long as you keep me thoroughly
entertained at my penthouse piano.”
That was how this poor campus
heartthrob became my reluctant
boyfriend. For the past six years, I had
only asked him to do one thing: use three
ultra–thin strawberry condoms a day.
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Then, one day, I stopped pushing
him. I gave up preventing him from
seeing his childhood sweetheart. He
frowned, unsure what game I was playing.
He didn’t know I’d woken up.
I found out we were actually in a
novel. Karry was the hero, and his
childhood sweetheart was the heroine. As
for me? A miserable villainess.
The plot dictated that he would rise to success, while I would end up dead in some alley, just like every cautionary tale whispered in the shadows.
To save myself, I walked into a
discreet agency. I was going to beat the
story to the punch.
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“Miss Kane, your contract is ready. As agreed, we will provide you with an
impeccable, flawless fake–death service
in fifteen days.” A staff member solemnly
handed me a freshly printed document.
I skimmed the contract.“Will the
body… resemble me?”
The staff member showed me a
photograph with confidence.“Rest
assured, Miss Kane. The body is custom
made to your exact specifications. No one
will notice the difference.”
Satisfied, I signed the papers without
hesitation. Then, I casually whipped out
my black card and swiped it before
turning to leave.
A sleek, black Rolls–Royce Phantom
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idled at the curb.
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My driver opened the door with a respectful bow.“Miss Kane.”
I nodded curtly and slid into the back seat. The door clicked shut, the engine purred to life, and the car whisked me
away to my mansion.
I’d bought this mansion for Karry.
I’d barely settled in when there was another knock at the door. A tall man,
impeccably dressed in a black suit, strode inside. His posture was rigid, his features sharp and handsome. His whole being
radiated an aura of cool detachment.
He calmly unbuttoned his shirt,
strode over to me, and instantly pinned
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< Emily’s Story 1
me to the couch.
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“Karry, wait!” I struggled, my heart
hammering against my ribs.
He frowned, a perplexed expression. clouding his usually impassive features.“It‘ s the deal, isn’t it? Or you wanna try
something different tonight?”
“I… I’m not feeling well. I need a few
days‘ rest.” I turned my head, trying to
avoid his gaze.
Fortunately, he didn’t insist.“I’ll go to
work then.”
Karry was indeed busy. I heard he was deeply immersed in the final stages of
a pivotal business project. I didn’t try to stop him, so I just nodded.
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I thought he would work late, but soon a phone call pulled him from his
study. He paused at the doorway, looking
at me.
“Since you don’t want to… I’m leaving.
I have something important to take care
of.” His voice was flat, but I could hear the
urgency in it.
I knew exactly what that “important
matter” was: Celia Tucker. But I said
nothing.
With my permission, he walked past
me without hesitation. Just as he was
about to open the front door, I called out,” Karry, actually, you don’t have to…”
He stopped with a frown, waiting for
me to continue. But under his impatient
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stare, the words caught in my throat. In the end, I just said, “Go ahead.”
I didn’t tell him what was truly on my
mind.
Only after he was gone did I murmur,” You don’t have to force yourself to stay
with me anymore. Because… I’ll be gone
soon.”
My life as a privileged heiress had been a whirlwind of reckless abandon
and impulsive decisions. But the most
reckless thing I’d ever done was “buying” a
boyfriend in my freshman year.
Karry was the undisputed heartthrob of a first–class university, pursued
relentlessly by countless girls. Even the
girls at the university next door went
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crazy
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for him. Yet, he was aloof, distant,
maintaining a wall of ice around himself. His days were consumed only by classes and part–time jobs.
Karry had me at hello. I’d been planning how to make him mine since the day I met him. Upon learning of his impoverished background, his sick
mother, and the grueling part–time jobs he was taking to fund her treatment, I made him an offer. I’d pay his mother’s medical expenses, and he’d be my boyfriend. He had to come to my place every night and have sex with me until I
was bored.
Karry’s mother’s illness was critical.
He needed that money desperately to save
his only remaining family member. So, he
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agreed.
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Six years passed. We’d both
graduated and entered the workforce. Yet our arrangement remained unchanged. His mother hadn’t been cured, I wasn’t
tired of him, and he remained in my
mansion. His demeanor never changed:
distant, cold, and aloof.
Despite that, I hadn’t given up. I
believed that with enough time, I could
melt his heart and make him fall for me.
This idea lasted until I fell into a pool and
discovered that I was living in a novel.
According to the novel, Karry’s
carefully planned venture would be a
huge success in 15 days, catapulting him
to the pinnacle of the business world.
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And the first thing he did after his success would be giving me a large sum of money and dumping me. But I wouldn’t accept it.
Instead, I’d haunt him like an unshakable
nougat. My jealousy would grow every
time I saw him with Celia and ultimately
lead me to torment her cruelly. In the end,
he’d be completely disgusted with me and
I’d end up alone and miserable.
I couldn’t accept that, nor could I
believe I’d be in such a stupid situation.
But recent events were mirroring the plot.
Karry repeatedly leaving me for Celia
forced me to face the inevitable truth: the
hero and heroine were destined to be
together.
After a week of agonizing struggle, I
finally saw the light. I couldn’t gamble my
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life and wager my future on an uncertain
outcome.
To escape the story’s constraints and rewrite my fate, I made a painful decision. I had to let go of Karry and, through a carefully orchestrated fake death, escape this world forever.
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