When my life became a story, I knew nothing about the plot except for my name. I woke up one day inside a novel I now know is called The CEO’s Crimson Contract. For the longest time, I was convinced I was the heroine. It made a perfect, beautiful sense. The protagonist’s name was Aurora, and my name—Elora—was its echo. The day I met my husband, Alaric, I fell in love so instantly and completely that I was sure I was the luckiest woman alive. But three years into our marriage, an intern named Aurora started at his company. And that’s when the voice in my head told me I’d gotten it all wrong. The heroine wasn’t the echo. It was the other way around. I wasn’t the star of the show. I was just the warm-up act. The disposable first wife. … [Elora, it’s time to face reality.] For the three months since Aurora had first walked through the doors of Aethelgard Industries, that voice—the one that called itself the System—had been a constant, cruel whisper in the back of my mind. [You aren’t the heroine, ‘Aurora.’ You’re the forgotten side character, ‘Elora.’ The story is correcting itself. The hero is destined to fall for the heroine. You are destined to be discarded.] I ignored it, just as I had every other time. I focused on the task at hand: arranging candles for the third-anniversary dinner I was making for Alaric and me. I wasn't the heroine, maybe. But three years of marriage couldn't be a lie. The feeling was real, even if the story wasn't mine. When I first arrived in this world, I was just a grad student studying abroad. The moment I saw him, my heart simply gave itself away, no questions asked. I pursued him with a single-mindedness that felt like fate. And fate, it seemed, answered. One afternoon, in a grimy alley near my apartment, I found him. He was bleeding, weakened, leaning against a dumpster as if his strength had evaporated. He’d been shot with some kind of specialized silver round. The sunlight, slanting between the buildings, was like a physical poison against his skin. I didn’t hesitate. I threw my trench coat over him, shielding him with my own body as I frantically called an Uber, getting him to the private, unmarked address he’d managed to whisper. To repay what he called a life debt, Alaric offered me a blood bond and, with it, a marriage contract. After the wedding, he remained distant, a man carved from beautiful, cold marble. But his actions… his actions were warm. When my period cramps were agonizing, he would disappear into his high-tech private medical lab and return with a small IV bag of dark, rich fluid. He’d call it a “family nutritional supplement,” his touch gentle as he hooked it to my vein and let it drip, slowly, into me. The relief was immediate, a wave of warmth and strength that washed away the pain. Once, I mindlessly liked a picture on Instagram—a box of macarons from a century-old patisserie in Paris. The next day, he returned from a business trip to New York. Sitting on the table of his private jet was that exact same box, the confections still impossibly fresh. It was in these moments that I learned to read his love language. His affection wasn’t in words, but in quiet, overwhelming gestures. He was a man whose actions screamed the devotion his lips would never speak. I didn’t believe a heart like that could change. After placing the last fork, I glanced at the ornate clock on the wall. 8:23 PM. He should have been home from the office by now. Usually, he was. I called him. “Honey, what time will you be home tonight?” There was a pause on the other end, a pocket of silence that felt too heavy. Then, his voice, a low, magnetic rumble that always made my heart skip. “Elora. I’m sorry. Something’s come up. I won’t be home for dinner. You should eat without me.” Each word was a hammer blow against my chest. My fingers tightened on my phone. “Do you remember what today is…?” Before I could finish, the line went dead. He’d hung up. A cold dread coiled in my stomach. And then, the System’s voice returned, slick and venomous. [Do you want to see what your husband is doing right now?] I didn’t. God, I didn’t. But the System never gave me a choice. An image flooded my mind, vivid and unwelcome. Alaric was in the emergency room of the city’s most expensive private hospital. He was kneeling, his movements impossibly gentle as he massaged the swollen ankle of a young woman on the hospital bed. It was Aurora. And in his silver-grey eyes—eyes that were always so cool and distant with me—was a universe of raw, unguarded worry. A thousand silver needles pierced my heart all at once. The pain was everywhere. The System’s voice was as cold as a morgue slab. [Do you see? The hero’s heart is already turning toward the heroine. If you refuse to let go, the plot will ensure you end up dead in the street. And your family in the human world? They’ll meet with unfortunate accidents as well…] My hand clenched into a fist, my nails digging into my palm. I bit down on my lip, hard, just to keep myself from trembling. A consequence like that… Could I really afford to bear it? Chapter 2 Alaric didn’t come home until the next morning. He walked in and slipped off his jacket, holding it out to me with the easy familiarity of routine. I saw the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. My eyes fell to his cuff, and I froze. A small, distinct coffee stain marred the crisp white fabric. I frowned. “What’s this?” He followed my gaze, his tone flat. “Aurora spilled it yesterday when she was bringing me a file. She twisted her ankle in the process, so I took her to the hospital.” He paused, then added, “I only learned recently that she’s the daughter of an old family associate. I owe her adoptive father a great debt.” We had known each other for five years, been married for three. It was the most he had ever said to me at one time. And it was all about another woman. When the System had threatened me, I’d brushed it off as a bad dream. When he missed our anniversary dinner, I’d chosen to believe him. But now, seeing the flicker of unguarded focus in his eyes as he spoke of Aurora—that shattered every last bit of my denial. I looked down, my fingers clenching and unclenching at my sides. After a long silence, I finally managed to speak, my voice barely a whisper. “Alaric, I don’t like her. Can you transfer her to another department?” “No.” The refusal was instant and absolute. “I made a promise to her father. It’s a promise I have to keep.” “I’m just asking you to move her, not fire her,” I pressed, hearing the desperate edge in my own voice. “You can’t even do that?” His face darkened. “Elora, she’s my executive assistant, that’s all. Are you always this petty? Does this mean I can’t hire any female employees from now on?” Petty. It was the first time he had ever used a word like that for me. In that moment, the absurdity of my situation crashed down on me. I had endured three months of psychological torture from the System, clinging to the belief that our love was real, that he was worth fighting for. How ridiculous it all seemed now. I said nothing more, just silently took his jacket to the laundry room. But the coffee stain felt like a stain on our marriage, and no matter how hard I scrubbed, it wouldn’t come out. I was about to throw the ruined jacket into the trash when a small velvet box tumbled out of the inside pocket. My breath caught. It was an emerald necklace, one I’d admired in a shop window months ago. Just then, two strong arms wrapped around me from behind. Alaric, fresh from the shower, pressed his cool skin against my back. “It’s your anniversary gift, Elora. I didn’t forget.” He smelled of pine and cold air, the same scent as my own body wash. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’m heading to the office. We’ll celebrate properly tonight.” My traitorous heart fluttered, the hope I was trying so hard to kill stirring back to life. But as I was straightening his tie, his phone rang. It was Aurora. “Mr. Aethelgard, I… I think I need to resign…” I was standing so close I could hear every word. I could hear the manufactured tears in her voice. “Everyone at the office is talking,” she sobbed. “They’re saying I’m trying to break up your marriage. I don’t know how a rumor like that could have started, but I can’t stay here anymore…” “Don’t worry,” Alaric soothed her, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ll take care of it.” He ended the call and his eyes, now cool and laced with suspicion, settled on me. I recoiled as if struck. “You think I did that?” He didn’t deny it. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. “You spread those rumors just because I wouldn’t transfer her? You’re coming with me to the office right now to clear this up.” He dragged me out of the apartment, ignoring my struggles. The moment we walked onto the executive floor, a hush fell. Employees, once busy at their desks, now shot us veiled, curious glances. Aurora appeared, her eyes red and tear-filled, limping dramatically toward me. “Mrs. Aethelgard, I swear, there is nothing going on between Mr. Aethelgard and me. He didn’t come home yesterday because he was taking me to the hospital, but only because I sprained my ankle…” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Are you telling me he’s the only person you know in this entire city? You had to bother him for something so minor? He’s your boss, not your father. If every employee with a scraped knee ran to him for help, he might as well shut down the company and open a daycare.” Aurora faltered, her eyes darting to Alaric for support. Alaric’s brow furrowed. “That’s enough. Aurora is different. I made a promise to take care of her.” The protectiveness in his voice was a physical blow. I stared at him, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Five years, and this was the first time I had ever seen him defend another woman against me. In front of his entire executive team, he stood tall, his expression severe. “Miss Aurora is the daughter of a dear friend. I have a responsibility to look after her. I don’t want to hear any more of these ridiculous rumors in this office. Is that clear?” I stood beside him, a statue of a jealous wife on public trial, enduring the pitying, contemptuous stares of everyone in the room. A humorless smile touched my lips. Right. Aurora had done nothing wrong. I was the one at fault. My only mistake was believing our love was indestructible. Chapter 3 After the spectacle at the office, Alaric had the driver take me home. I sat on the edge of our bed for a long time, staring into space. My gaze drifted to a photo frame on the nightstand. It was a picture of me with my family—my real family, from the world I’d left behind. Mom, Dad, and my older brother, all of us smiling under a summer sun. The System’s threat echoed in my mind, and with it came the horrifying visions it had shown me. My mother, her gentle smile frozen on her face, hit by a speeding car. My father, a man of quiet dignity, falling from the top of a skyscraper. My brother, his bright, easy grin gone forever, stabbed to death in a dark alley, his body left unrecognizable. The air in my lungs turned to poison. I couldn’t breathe. After what felt like an eternity, I did something I had never done before. I reached out with my mind, calling to the voice. “System. You want me to leave him, don’t you? I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to send me back. Send me home to my own world.” The System agreed. It informed me that in fifteen days, my time in this body would come to an end. I was going to “die.” I changed my clothes and went for a walk. With the little time I had left, I called my family. I told them I was going on a long trip, somewhere remote. I told them I loved them. It was the only goodbye I could give. That evening, Alaric picked me up from the park as if nothing had happened. On the drive home, I didn’t chatter away like I usually did, filling the space with stories about my day. The car was filled with a heavy, suffocating silence. He glanced over at me several times. “Are you still angry about this morning?” I shook my head. “No.” He hesitated. “There’s something else I need to tell you. Today, Aurora—” The moment I heard her name, a curtain fell in my mind. I couldn’t hear another word about her. “I’m tired,” I cut him off. “Let’s talk when we get home.” But when we walked through the front door, I saw her. Aurora was sitting on our sofa. And she was wearing Alaric’s silk dress shirt. He came in behind me. “This is what I was trying to tell you in the car.” I stood frozen in the entryway, my nails digging so deeply into my palms I was sure I’d drawn blood. Aurora immediately put on a frightened, timid expression. “Mrs. Aethelgard, please don’t misunderstand! My apartment was burglarized, and Mr. Aethelgard said… he said he owed my father a great debt. He’s letting me stay here until I can find a safe place.” She gestured to the shirt. “All my clothes were ruined. I knew you disliked me, so I didn’t dare borrow anything of yours. I could only borrow one of Mr. Aethelgard’s.” Alaric saw the look on my face and gently took my arm, guiding me toward the dining table. “Aurora cooked dinner for us—” He stopped short. We both stared at the table. Every single dish was a blackened, charred mess. Aurora blinked innocently. “I wanted to do something nice for you both, but I’m just so clumsy…” I took a deep breath, about to say something—anything—but Alaric spoke first, already forgiving her on my behalf. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice soft. “Elora doesn’t mind.” And just like that, all the words I might have said died in my throat. Without another sound, I turned and walked to the bedroom. Chapter 4 Alaric followed me in a moment later. He closed the door behind him, his voice low. “You and Aurora just got off on the wrong foot. Once you get to know her, you’ll see she’s actually quite sweet, just a little clumsy. Now that she’s living here, it’s a good chance for you two to connect.” A suffocating pressure built in my chest. My nails bit deeper into my palms. How funny. My own husband, telling me to my face that another woman was sweet. I looked at him, at the face that had once been the center of my universe, and I finally, finally made my decision. Taking a steadying breath, I met his eyes. “Alaric. Let’s get a divorce.” His expression instantly turned to thunder. “What did you just say?” “I’m not willing to stay married to a man on the verge of an affair,” I said, my voice eerily calm. His eyes were wide with disbelief. “I haven’t done anything with Aurora! What is wrong with you?” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Any other woman so much as brushes against your sleeve and you throw the jacket away. But Aurora? She can spill coffee all over you. She can demand your help for a twisted ankle, and you not only oblige, you personally massage her foot!” I took a step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Alaric, can you look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for her?” He flinched, his gaze faltering. For a moment, he was utterly silent. Just then, Aurora’s voice called from the living room. “Mr. Aethelgard? Could you come help me with something?” His eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn’t name. He looked at me, his jaw tight, but he offered no explanation. No defense. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. “Elora, marriage isn’t a game. You can’t be this irresponsible.” He paused, his tone softening almost imperceptibly. “I’ll sleep in the study tonight. You need to calm down and think clearly. I don’t want to hear you say that word again.” The bedroom door clicked shut behind him. I stared at the closed door and let out a long, shuddering breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Chapter 5 When I woke up the next morning, Alaric and Aurora were already gone. As if to twist the knife, the System forced another vision into my head, showing me their departure. I saw Aurora presenting him with a plate of greasy, fried food for breakfast. I knew his digestive system was sensitive; I never made him things like that. But he ate what she offered, accepting it with a quiet nod. At the car, Aurora hesitated, putting on a show of reluctance. “The passenger seat… that’s Mrs. Aethelgard’s spot. She’ll be angry, won’t she?” Alaric simply opened the passenger door for her. “She won’t know.” And I watched, helpless, as the seat that had always been exclusively mine was occupied by another woman, at his personal invitation. I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop, I begged the System. I don’t want to see any more. My phone rang, startling me from my trance. It was Alaric’s assistant. “Ma’am, just a reminder about the family trust’s quarterly dinner this evening. Your attendance with Mr. Aethelgard is required.” I had completely forgotten. The mandatory gathering hosted by the clan’s elders. At a little past five, Alaric returned home with Aurora in tow. “Elora, Aurora will be joining us for the dinner tonight.” I stared at him. “Why?” “It was an order from the Chairwoman of the board,” he explained, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s seen the preliminary background report on Aurora and wants to meet her in person.” Thirty minutes later, we arrived at a private club perched atop the city’s tallest skyscraper—a property owned by the family. The moment we entered the grand dining hall, every eye turned to Aurora. The clan’s core members, led by a few elders who radiated an ancient and intimidating power, watched her with a mixture of scrutiny, curiosity, and something else… a subtle avarice that sent a chill down my spine. And me? His legal wife? I was completely invisible. The dinner was a tense, suffocating affair. The elders directed all their questions to Aurora, probing into her family history and upbringing. I distractedly took a sip of soup. A wave of nausea immediately washed over me. I clamped a hand over my mouth and rushed to the restroom. When I came out, a female elder—a distant relative of Alaric’s—was waiting for me. Her eyes were dark and unreadable. “Elora,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “A reaction like that… could it be that you are with child?” My heart stopped. It was only then that I realized… my period was late. A dizzying panic set in. If I was pregnant, what would I do? How could I leave? I was given no time to process. The elders were already “suggesting” I be taken to the family’s private medical center for an immediate examination. After a series of tests, a doctor handed a report to Alaric, bowing his head respectfully. “Sir, your wife’s health is excellent. However… her body is not compatible with your bloodline. She cannot bear your heir.” The female elder let out a soft scoff, just loud enough for the entire room to hear. “All that excitement for nothing. Married all these years and still no results.” Another elder spoke, his voice a low rumble. “Alaric, you understand what must be done. The continuation of our lineage is paramount.” I said nothing. I just looked down at my own stomach. I should have been relieved, but the first thing I felt was a sharp, hollowing disappointment. Just then, the System’s voice echoed in my head, cold and clinical. [Host, you are merely a human. You could never have conceived the hero’s child.] I froze. The words replayed in my mind, but it wasn’t “hero” or “child” that held my attention. It was the other word. Human. It said… you are merely a human. The word was like a rusted key forcing open a door in my mind I had never dared to approach. Fragments of memory came rushing back, a tidal wave of suppressed truths. His “family nutritional supplement”… the chilling sensation of that cold fluid flowing through the IV tube and into my veins… it was… blood. Who gives their wife their own blood to cure cramps? His perpetually cold skin. No matter how warm the room, his embrace always carried a deep, unnatural chill. I’d thought it was just poor circulation. Now I knew it wasn't the temperature of the living. His strength, so far beyond normal. Jars I couldn’t budge would open with a flick of his wrist. The one time I’d tripped on the stairs, he’d caught me with a speed that was little more than a blur. His preference for the night, his aversion to the sun. The floor-to-ceiling windows in our penthouse were fitted with specialized glass that blocked 100% of UV rays. I’d thought it was just the eccentricity of a top-tier CEO… And… the nights. The nights he would bury his face in my neck, the so-called “possessive kisses” that always left a faint, stinging ache, followed by a dizzying, euphoric rush… He wasn’t kissing me. He was… feeding from me. Blood. Cold. Strength. Aversion to light. Fangs. And the title of the novel itself—The CEO’s Crimson Contract. Crimson. A single, horrifying, and perfectly logical answer exploded in my mind. Vampire. My blood ran cold, seeming to freeze solid in my veins. I had always believed the difference between Aurora and me was simply a matter of love. That he loved her, and he didn’t love me. Now I understood. The chasm between us was not emotional. It was biological. We weren’t just a bad match. We weren’t even the same species. I wasn’t just the side character. I was a human. A fragile, incompatible, pathetic outsider who could never give him an heir. So that was it. That was the real reason the System had said I was unworthy. This whole twisted tragedy was so much more absurd, and so much more hopeless, than I had ever imagined.
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