Chapter 3 I love this world

"What did you say?" Adrian asked, his voice colder than a frozen glacier.

I blinked at him sweetly, then let a single tear roll down my cheek, summoning all the pitiful energy I could gather from watching hundreds of K-dramas and CEO novels. “You said we’re married, but I don’t even remember you. Isn’t it your job as a husband to care for me, make me feel comfortable, safe, not… abandoned? And now, right in front of me, your mistress walks in and throws herself at you like I’m invisible. How am I supposed to feel?”

Gaslight. Gatekeep. Girlboss. The holy trinity.

The tension in the room dropped several degrees. The maid came in with a tray of heavenly-scented food, but I pretended to be so deeply hurt that I couldn’t possibly eat. I stood up, turning away dramatically. I hadn’t taken more than three steps when the room started to spin.

Great. I forgot I hadn’t eaten since forever.

I stumbled. Before I could kiss the expensive marble floor, Adrian swooped in and caught me with the reflex of a trained panther. “Are you stupid, or is the amnesia making you stupid, Lia?” he snapped.

Lia. So that’s my name in this messed-up novel world.

He carried me back to the chair like I was made of feathers and growled, “Sit.”

Then he turned to the stunning woman

“She's not my mistress,” Adrian said, voice icy. “She's my best friend. We grew up together. Her name is Sabrina.”

I stared at Sabrina. Tall, elegant, with flowing raven-black hair, piercing gray eyes, and skin so flawless it screamed luxury skincare. She smiled, but I saw right through it. That was the smile of a woman who hated me at first sight but was too classy to scratch my eyes out. Yet.

She stepped forward and said in a sweet voice laced with venom, “I hope you don’t misunderstand. Adrian and I are just really close.”

I tilted my head and gave her my best wide-eyed, fake-innocent look. “Oh, no, how could I? It’s just that you leaped into his arms and he didn’t seem to mind.”

Sabrina’s lips twitched. Victory.

Helena, Adrian’s mother, intervened. “Sabrina, perhaps it’s best if you leave for now. Lia needs rest, and we don’t want to overwhelm her.”

Sabrina looked toward Adrian like a kicked puppy. But I tightened my grip on his arm like he was my emotional support billionaire. His eyes flicked from me to her. “Leave for now,” he said flatly.

Boom. Score one for Team Lia.

As soon as she was out of sight, Helena fussed over me, and Lucas chuckled, “Adrian, you should feed her. She looks too weak to hold a spoon.”

Adrian looked like he’d been told to eat glass but grabbed the spoon anyway and brought it to my lips. Meanwhile, Damien sat silently, eyes sharp and unreadable. Unlike Lucas, he radiated frost just like Adrian. Twins in emotional constipation, I guess.

After eating a ridiculous amount of delicious, rich-people food, Adrian carried me back to our bedroom. I felt like a potato being delivered.

Once I was tucked in, Adrian left, only for Damien to appear a moment later, holding a small bottle of pills.

He placed them on the bedside table. “Here. Painkillers. For your head.”

I nodded, feeling awkward. He didn’t leave.

“Did you really lose your memory, or are you faking it?” he asked, eyes boring into mine.

I blinked, thinking fast. “I… don’t really know. Everything’s blank.”

He didn’t push. “You hit your head falling down the stairs this morning. Don’t strain yourself.”

Then his expression turned even more serious. “Stay away from Sabrina. She’s not what she seems. And she’s important to Adrian. If you try to play games using her, it won’t end well.”

“Oh?” I asked, smirking faintly. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

He left after a long stare.

Oh, I already knew Sabrina was bad news. I’d dealt with fake friends, toxic head nurses, and a landlady who tried to set me up with her three-times-divorced son. I could handle a scheming heiress with designer heels. She better come prepared.

I rolled my eyes and looked around for a phone. Nothing. Seriously? Not even a rotary one?

I got out of bed and padded out of the room quietly. As I got to the railings, I saw the entire family talking below. Adrian looked up, his mask slipping briefly in surprise before returning to his usual glacier-mode.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asked.

“I was looking for a phone,” I replied honestly.

“You don’t have one,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll get you one soon.”

Yeah, great. Trapped in a novel, amnesia tagged to my name, a cold CEO husband, a hot but shady brother-in-law, and a childhood bestie who looked like she stepped out of a beauty ad and wanted to bury me six feet under with her smile.

This was going to be one hell of a ride.

Then, suddenly, Adrian asked with a deadpan expression, "Why aren’t you wearing slippers? Don’t you know the ground is cold?"

I blinked and finally noticed the chill crawling up my legs. That was when I felt the coldness slipping into my body like ice fingers. But seriously, why was this body so weak? In my world, I walked around barefoot at home all the time. Slippers were a luxury I only wore at the hospital—twelve hours straight, might I add. No way I was voluntarily slipping those torture devices back on again.

Still, the air suddenly felt heavy. Everyone stared at me like I just committed a crime against fashion and foot health. Not wanting to argue with their dramatic rich-people stares, I forced a smile, wrapped my arms around myself, and descended the stairs.

But I couldn’t take it anymore.

I reached out and tugged gently on the tip of Adrian’s suit sleeve. His cold, ocean-blue eyes dropped to where my hand touched him.

“I’m bored,” I muttered with my most pitiful, wide-eyed expression.

He blinked once. “What do you want?”

That’s all I needed.

My face lit up with glee like a kid at a candy store. I started listing every billionaire CEO, Mafia boss, dark stalker romance novel I’ve ever come across but never had the money or time to read.

Adrian raised a brow, “You want me to buy books…? All of these?”

I nodded enthusiastically.

Lucas chuckled from the side. “She’s listed like ten novels already.”

“That’s too little!” I declared, lifting my chin proudly. “You should hear the rest!”

Then I went on. And on. And on. I listed titles, described plots, mentioned favorite tropes, and ranted about character development. I even brought up the controversial endings some authors dared to give my favorite ships.

By the time I paused for breath, everyone was staring at me like I had grown a second head.

Oops. Right. Poor orphan girl. I wasn’t supposed to know so many books, was I?

I coughed lightly and added, “I borrowed most of them from the library. But the really juicy ones they never gave me because… well, I didn’t have the money.”

Everyone’s faces instantly melted into pity.

Idiots.

Adrian didn’t look so cold now. His brows slightly relaxed, and I could swear I saw the corner of his lips twitch. Was that… almost a smile?

“I see,” he said. Then without warning, he picked me up like I weighed nothing.

“Hey!” I squeaked. “What do you think you're doing?!”

“You’ve said enough,” he replied, voice blank but oddly gentle. “You’re still not fully recovered.”

Does this idiot think I’m some fragile Cinderella princess? If only he knew the kind of stuff I went through in the hospital—lifting patients, sprinting through hallways, getting cussed at by patients’ families and overworked nurses.

But fine. Let’s play the weak, delicate amnesia-wife for now. After all, this was rich people territory, and I wasn’t about to be kicked out by some fake-blonde best friend in heels.

He carried me back upstairs and placed me on the bed like glass.

“Rest,” he said simply.

As he turned to leave, I called out sweetly, “Don’t forget the books!”

He paused. “I’ll have them delivered.”

God, I love this fictional world.

But then again… it wasn’t all fun and games. I still needed to figure out how to survive the scheming best friend, the mysterious past of this body I’d landed in, and, most importantly, how to not fall in love with the cold CEO who just might be the possessive stalker I’ve always read about.