Vivien never thought her favorite mafia novel would become her prison-until she woke up inside it, trapped as the villainess fiancée who was supposed to die.
She wasn't the heroine. She was the cruel woman who tormented Alina, the girl sold to Dante...
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Viellas pov
I smiled awkwardly, sipping the iced water the waiter had just placed beside me. Elias was still watching me.
Like, intensely.
The kind of stare that made your fork pause midair.
“Your appetite changed, Viella,” he murmured, tone far too casual for the way his eyes traced every move of my hand as I cut into the stuffed salmon.
“Huh? You said something?”
He smiled. Smooth. “Ah, nothing important.”
Right. Nothing important. Except the fact that you somehow know what my appetite used to be like. Before I got isekai’d into this villainess hellhole.
I cleared my throat. “Umm… So have we met before? I don’t know… you just look so familiar.”
He chuckled, that rich, smooth laugh that belonged to CEOs and cult leaders. “Everyone says that. You’ve probably seen me in the news. Or maybe…” he tilted his head slightly, “…in a dream?”
I laughed off the unease. “Yeah, probably on the news. You’re Dante’s business partner, right? That explains it.” the one who never showed up in book but in bonus chapters.
He smiled again, that charming smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re quite famous yourself, Miss Viella. So many articles about you. The red dress at the charity gala… the ‘temper tantrum’ during the engagement ball… and of course, the mysteriously injured in your room”
My fork clattered against the porcelain plate.
“I… was I?” I forced a giggle. “Gosh, I don’t even remember. You know how rumors are.”
His gaze didn’t soften. “Yes. But I don’t believe that one was a rumor. You were hospitalized, weren’t you?”
I was.? How come it's not written in the book?
I blinked. “I’m fine now. Totally fine.”
A moment of silence passed as I nibbled at the dessert.
The uncomfortable chill in the air wasn't from the restaurant’s AC anymore.
Was it just me… or did Elias know too much?
I glanced at the contract paper he had handed me earlier.
A real, signed contract. With Dante’s company seal. Only signature needed.
This man really did just hand over the holy grail of my dad’s dream deal over coffee and a creepy dinner. And all he asked for was one dinner.
Why did that feel like bait?
He leaned back in his seat, wine glass in hand. “You know… i wanted to visit you back then in the hospital but I was too busy.
