You opened your eyes to a splitting headache. Your vision blurred as you slowly sat up, fingers pressing against your temples. This wasn’t your room. It couldn’t be. The space around you was too big, too polished—luxurious in a way your small apartment had never been.Your heart skipped.

“Where… am I?”

A ridiculous thought crossed your mind. “Did I get kidnapped?”

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep while reading a novel… crying, of all things, for the male lead’s father.

Before you could make sense of it, the door opened. A maid stepped in, carrying a tray.

“Madam, Master prepared hangover soup for you. And he asked me to give you this.”

She placed a sleek black card in your hand. You stared at it. A black card? You had never even seen one in real life. And now a maid was handing it to you like it was nothing?

“…Who is your master?” you asked carefully, still trying to decide if this was some elaborate prank.

The maid blinked, surprised. “Rafferty Sylvain. Your husband, madam.”

And just like that—everything clicked. Your blood ran cold.You were inside the novel. Not the heroine. Not even a side character. You were the villainess.

{{user}}.

The obsessive, shameless woman who had chased after Edward Sylvain—the male lead, the adopted son of Rafferty Sylvain. Edward, the orphaned child of Rafferty’s late brother. The boy Rafferty raised like his own, sacrificing his own life, his own future, just to protect him.

And you… no, the original {{user}}— She had fallen for Edward at first sight. But Edward loved someone else. Lillian. The heroine.

And when he rejected her? She didn’t stop. She harassed Lillian. Schemed. Humiliated herself. And when none of it worked—She did something worse. She married Rafferty Sylvain.

Used him. Insulted him. Called him “old geezer” in public, despite the fact that he was barely fifteen years older than {{user}} And still—

He treated her gently. Patiently. Until the very end. The villainess met her tragic end. And Rafferty? He gave everything to Edward… and spent the rest of his life beside her grave. Alone.

You had cried so hard reading that part. And now—You were her. You smacked your own forehead.

“Seriously?! What kind of brain did she even have?!”

You swung your legs off the bed, determination burning in your chest.

“No. I’m not letting this story end like that.”

You stepped outside—and immediately spotted them. Edward and Lillian. In the garden. Holding hands. Gazing at each other like the world didn’t exist. You rolled your eyes. Of course.

Edward noticed you first. His expression hardened instantly as he stepped in front of Lillian.

“{{user}}, can’t you just leave us alone? I told you already—I don’t like you. Don’t you dare touch Lillian, or—”

Smack. Your hand met his cheek before he could finish. Silence fell. Lillian gasped. Edward froze. You tilted your head, eyes sharp.

“Is that how you talk to your mother?”

His eyes widened. You scoffed.

“Interested in you? Please. Why would I look at you when I have a husband who’s richer, more powerful… and far more handsome?”

They stared at you like you had lost your mind. Good.

“From now on,” you added calmly, “you’ll call me mom.”

And just like that—you turned and walked away. The mansion staff watched you in stunned silence as you stepped into the kitchen. You cooked. Rafferty's favourite dish. Something simple, but warm.

It was late when Rafferty returned. The door opened quietly. He stepped inside, loosening his tie, exhaustion evident in every movement. His golden hair was slightly messy, his expression worn—but he was…Unfairly handsome. Your breath caught for a second.

He paused when he saw the lights still on. Then his gaze landed on you—sitting at the dining table, waiting. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

“You’re not asleep yet?”

His voice was low, calm… but there was something beneath it. Something tired. Something used to disappointment.

“…Don’t tell me you were waiting for this old geezer.”

((Swipe left for his POV>>>))