With me in the picture, the female lead's 'perfect love' doesn't seem so great anymore.

The epiphany hit me when I was still slinging drinks at The Junction, a dive bar that smelled perpetually of stale beer and regret.
It was too early in the story.
The heroine, my coworker, was still wiping down sticky tables, years away from the meet-cute that would define her life.
And I was right there beside her, still just a girl in a cheap apron, a lifetime away from meeting the millionaire who was supposedly my father.
1
After six months of hauling trays and fending off drunks, I suddenly woke up.
I wasn't just a bartender. I was a character in a romance novel—and not just any character. I was the bitchy, doomed antagonist.
The script said that tomorrow, my long-lost biological father, a titan of industry, would find me. I’d be swept into a world of wealth, only to be promptly married off to a man who felt nothing for me. A man who, the script dictated, would eventually use his fists to communicate.
Meanwhile, the heroine—Lily—would meet the hero, Ethan. She’d be swept into the loving embrace of his family and adored beyond measure. And, according to the plot, she would spend every waking moment rubbing her perfect life in my face, detailing every romantic gesture, every sweet nothing. The constant reminders of my own miserable existence were supposed to curdle my soul, turning me into a venomous schemer obsessed with destroying her happiness.
My grand finale? A prison cell. Hers? A pair of cherubic twins and a happily ever after.
Jesus Christ, I thought, wiping down the bar. What kind of hack author wrote this garbage?
To have money, a husband, and all the free time in the world, and to throw it all away obsessing over someone else’s love life? That wasn't a character flaw; it was just plain stupid.
2
Just as the story foretold, my father found me. And just as it was written, I was promptly engaged to the emotionally unavailable Adrian Cole.
But that’s where I threw the book in the fire. I chose the path of non-stupidity. I chose to enjoy the damn ride.
The first test came when Adrian informed me he was going to see his old flame. The one that got away.
“You should probably bring flowers,” I suggested, pulling a dress from my new, ridiculously large closet. “Sophia always loved white roses. Don't get the wrong ones.”
Adrian froze, his hand on the doorknob. “What?”
His confusion was understandable. According to my character notes, I was supposed to be throwing a jealous fit right now, maybe blocking the door, tears streaming down my face. Under my old moral code, the one from before I “woke up,” marriage was a sacred vow. No cheating, no emotional affairs, no looking back.
But that was then. Now, my only sacred vow was to my bank account.
“Look,” I said, turning to face him. “For the sake of a peaceful coexistence, how about we make a deal?”
“What kind of deal?” he asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“You do your thing, I keep my mouth shut. All it costs you is a recurring fee for my silence and discretion.”
Adrian just stared at me.
I blinked, genuinely confused by his shock. “Isn't this how it works in your world? I thought this was standard procedure for you people.”
Marriage as a merger, a strategic alliance for mutual benefit. Love was a separate ledger entirely, full of names and past indiscretions.
He was silent for a few seconds, processing. “Arrangements where both parties… see other people aren't uncommon,” he finally said, his voice carefully neutral. “But a wife who demands hush money from her husband? That’s a new one.”
I shrugged, a gesture that felt more genuine than any I’d made in years. “A man can leave. Money is reliable.”
Adrian had no response to that.
3
The moment Adrian’s car pulled out of the driveway, my phone buzzed. It was Lily. Right on schedule. By now, she and her hero, Ethan, were officially an item.
The script said she’d call to tell me how wonderful he was, how he showered her with affection, and then, as an afterthought, she’d ask how I was doing.
Given that my new husband was off visiting the love of his life, the original plot had me spiraling into despair. And Lily, whether out of cluelessness or a subtle sadistic streak, never seemed to notice my pain. Her concern was fleeting, but the gushing about her perfect relationship was endless. A Sinclair heiress, miserable and outdone by a bartender. The injustice was supposed to be my villain origin story.
But now? Honestly, I didn't give a damn.
When she asked me how I was, I smiled into the phone. “Busy packing, actually.”
“Oh my god, what happened?” she gasped, her voice full of drama. “Did you and Adrian have a fight?”
“A fight? Who has time for that? I’m going on a trip.”
“A honeymoon?”
“Nope. Just me.”
There was a stunned silence on her end. “Thea… you guys are newlyweds. This is supposed to be the sweet phase. Aren't you, you know, trying for a baby?”
I almost choked. A baby? With Adrian? We barely had enough chemistry to start a fire with gasoline and a blowtorch.
I mumbled a few excuses and got off the phone as quickly as I could. The moment the wire transfer from Adrian—my first hush money payment—hit my account, I was out the door, suitcase in tow.
Later that night, my phone rang again. It was Adrian. He sounded genuinely shocked. “The house is pitch black. Where are you?”
I took a sip of my cocktail, the warm breeze ruffling my hair. “In the Maldives, watching the sunset.”
Adrian was silent, the sound of his bewilderment traveling thousands of miles across the ocean.
4
On my second day in paradise, Lily and Ethan showed up.
She claimed she missed me so much that she just had to have Ethan fly her out for a visit. But the way she said it, draped all over him, felt less like friendship and more like a victory lap.
Worse, for someone who supposedly came all this way to see me, she spent every waking moment attached to Ethan's hip. I became their personal assistant, fetching drinks, grabbing towels, taking their pictures. Any onlooker would have assumed I was their very well-dressed cabana girl.
That was it. I decided to pack my bags and hop over to another island.
Lily was aghast. “You spend money like this all the time? Doesn’t your husband say anything?”
“It’s a commercial arrangement, Lily, not an allowance,” I said flatly.
The word “allowance” must have struck a nerve, reminding her of her own financial dependence on Ethan. The smile vanished from her face. She gave me a long, hard look before muttering, “Well. Have fun.”
Oh, I would. The only thing I asked of the universe was that she and her perfect boyfriend would stop following me around to flaunt their perfect love story.
The script might have cast me as the villain, but I refused to be anyone’s supporting actress. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t force it to be miserable.
5
After nearly three weeks of island-hopping, Adrian finally called again. This time, it was for a gala. A command performance, requiring us to appear as a united front.
Without missing a beat, I suggested, “Why don’t you take Sophia? You just need a date, and she’s a woman. It works.”
A long, suffering sigh came through the phone. He patiently explained that this particular event was critical. Both of our families would be there, watching. It had to be me.
“I see. Well, in that case… could you just tell them I’m sick?” I was still enjoying my freedom and had zero desire to go back.
His patience finally snapped. “I have never met a woman who pushes her husband away like you do,” he sneered. “Thea, you’re really something else.”
Am I? I thought. Or are you guys just masochists?
In the original script, my constant jealousy and meltdowns over Sophia drove him away for months at a time. I’d tracked her down, we’d gotten into a physical fight, and he’d hit me in a fit of rage. It ended with our families feuding and becoming the laughingstock of our social circle.
Is that what he wanted? A return to that train wreck?
“Fine,” I said, cutting through his tirade. “I’ll come back and play the part. But I have one condition.”
“What is it?”
“My friend’s birthday is in a few days. You’re coming with me, and you’re going to be on your best behavior.”
Lily’s birthday was coming up. It was guaranteed to be another nauseating festival of her and Ethan’s love. I’d planned on skipping it, but I owed her. Back in our days at The Junction, she’d stepped in front of a violent drunk for me. This was me paying back that debt. As long as she didn’t push it, I was willing to keep the peace.
6
Adrian agreed to my terms. I was on a flight home the next day.
A flight delay left him waiting at the airport for three hours. The moment I walked through the arrivals gate, I was met with his thunderous expression.
“What’s with the face?” I chirped. “Not happy to see me? I can turn right around and go back.”
His jaw tightened. He practically shoved me into the back of his car, then tossed a garment bag at me. “Change. We’re late.”
“In the car?”
He pressed a button, and a privacy divider slid up, sealing us off from the driver. “There. No one can see you.”
I looked at him pointedly. “And you’re not a person?”
He whipped his head around to stare out the window, his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack.
“The reflection in the glass, Adrian,” I sang softly. “You might want to close your eyes.”
He took a deep, shaky breath, but it wasn't enough to keep his composure. He spun back around, his eyes blazing. “Thea, we have a marriage license. It is perfectly legal for me to see every inch of you.”
“Oh. Okay, then. Look away,” I said, and with a theatrical shrug, I started to unbutton my shirt.
Just as I’d predicted, his bravado crumbled. A dark flush crept up his neck, and he quickly averted his eyes.
Amateur, I thought with a smirk. You’re playing checkers while I’m playing chess. I had the whole script memorized. Adrian Cole was the kind of man who met force with overwhelming force. But show a little vulnerability, a little playful defiance, and he short-circuited.
With him staring determinedly at his shoes, his face still beet red, I calmly changed into the evening gown.
7
The moment we stepped out of the car at the gala, I looped my arm through his.
“Nice acting,” he muttered under his breath.
“Glad you think so,” I whispered back. “A million-dollar bonus for my performance would be lovely, Mr. Cole.”
He didn't reply, but I felt the muscle in his arm twitch.
Throughout the evening, I was the perfect corporate wife. I smiled, I made small talk, I remembered names and business connections. There was no trace of the lost girl dragged out of a dive bar. I watched Adrian’s expression shift from surprise to something else… something warmer. Was that… appreciation?
Wait. No. Not appreciation. It was… tenderness.
An alarm bell went off in my head.
The second we were back in the car, I pulled my arm away. “Just so we’re clear, this was a transaction. I helped you tonight so you’ll help me at the birthday party. This is purely reciprocal, so don’t get any weird ideas.”
Adrian seemed to have had a bit too much to drink. He leaned his head back against the leather, his eyes hazy. He loosened his tie, the picture of a devastatingly handsome CEO unraveling. “You didn’t just marry me for the money, did you?”
“What else would it be for?” I asked with unflinching honesty. “Your sparkling personality?”
My sincerity seemed to wound him more than any insult could have. He lurched forward, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “You don’t like this?” he demanded, gesturing to his face. “If a guy like me doesn’t do it for you, then who does?”
I decided to throw a grenade. “Someone like Ethan, I guess.”
“Ethan? Your friend’s boyfriend?”
“So? They say you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I’m just the kind of friend who’d steal a girl's boyfriend,” I said, my voice dripping with fake malice.
He stared at me, utterly speechless, as if my moral compass had just spun off its axis and flown out the window. It took him a long moment to find his voice.
“Thea,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your husband is sitting right in front of you.”
“So?”
8
That did it. Adrian snapped. He ripped off his tie and tossed it onto the empty seat. Then he grabbed my hand and pressed it flat against his chest, sliding it down over the hard ridges of his abdomen. The muscles were like steel cables under his shirt. Damn it. The bastard was using his good looks against me.
“What—what are you doing?” I stammered, trying to pull my hand back.
He wouldn't let go. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face as he leaned in, trapping me between the car door and the solid wall of his chest.
“Telling me you want another man while you’re with me,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Thea, are you trying to get yourself into trouble?”
The pose, the look in his eyes, the words themselves—it was all intoxicatingly intimate. For a split second, a dangerous, ridiculous thought flashed through my mind: What if he’s actually falling for me?
Then his phone buzzed, shattering the illusion. The screen lit up with a single name: Sophia.
So intimate.
He glanced at it, his jaw tightening, and silenced the call.
But I was wide awake now. The fog had lifted. I smirked at him. “Doesn't the great Mr. Cole have feelings for another woman, too?”
My question hit him like a physical blow. He froze.
I seized the opportunity, pushing him away and smoothing down my dress. “Don’t forget, Adrian,” I said, my voice cool and steady. “We’re a business arrangement.”
In the original script, he used that line to shut me down time and time again. Tonight, I was deploying it first.
The consequence, however, was that Adrian spent the next several days treating me with a glacial coldness. The silence in our massive house was deafening.
Finally, the day of Lily’s birthday arrived.
“Are you still coming with me?” I asked him.
He shot back, his voice dripping with ice, “If I don’t, are you going alone?”
“Nope. I’ll find someone else.”
“A man or a woman?”
I just gave him a look. One that said, What do you think?
Sometimes, silence is the most eloquent answer.
He exploded. “You wouldn't dare take another man! I swear to God, I’ll have him arrested!”
I just stared at him. He had to be kidding. Calling the cops in that situation? The only person who’d be humiliated is him.
But his outburst told me what I needed to know: he was still coming. Since the objective was achieved, I saw no need to prolong the conflict.
I broke into a bright smile and took his hand. “Then let’s go.”
Adrian stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden shift. As we walked toward the door, I saw him glance down at our intertwined fingers.
And then, just for a second, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a ghost of a smile.

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