I woke up in a story I vaguely remember reading before. Apparently, I’m destined to become the villain’s fiancée in the near future, but honestly, that fate might shift depending on how I handle things. My perfect man? Tall at 190 cm, gorgeous, wealthy, holding a noble title no lower than Count, and someone who stays fit even in old age. But before I could even start searching for my dream partner, I somehow ended up saving the male protagonist’s life. From then on, my plans for a peaceful existence kept falling apart.
“You’ll have to excuse me, but Ariel confessed she can’t look away because I’m the most stunning and attractive person alive.”
“Wait, when did I say that?”
“My apologies for overstepping. Please disregard my proposal!”
“Hey! That’s not what I meant at all!”
Everything spiraled out of control the moment our paths crossed. Now, instead of securing a comfortable future, I’m tangled in misunderstandings and unwanted attention. The male lead seems convinced of my supposed admiration, while I’m just trying to steer clear of the original plot’s disasters.
If only fate would stop throwing obstacles in my way. But with every attempt to avoid the story’s predetermined path, I somehow end up deeper in the mess. Can’t I just live quietly without attracting the protagonist’s attention? Apparently not.
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