Ep2: What The Hell Is Happening?

Episode 2: What The Hell Is Happening?

“This has to be a dream.”

I stared at my reflection in complete horror.

Then I blinked.

The reflection blinked back.

“Nope.”

I slapped my cheek.

Hard.

“OW—SHIT.”

Yeah.

That hurt.

Definitely not a dream.

I looked around the massive bedroom again.

Floor-to-ceiling windows.

Designer furniture.

Luxury handbags casually thrown on a couch.

A giant TV mounted on the wall.

An iPhone charging on the nightstand.

And—

wait.

I grabbed the phone.

Newest model.

“...okay thank god.”

At least I wasn’t thrown into some historical nonsense where people communicate through pigeons and die from paper cuts.

I opened the phone.

Face ID unlocked instantly.

“Oh my god.”

I was actually Natasha Williams.

Holy shit.

Holy actual shit.

I looked at the maids—well…personal assistants?

Stylists?

Rich people employees?

Whatever.

They were staring at me like I was unstable.

Which was fair.

“Did I get hit by a truck and wake up inside a fictional universe?”

Silence.

One woman slowly nodded toward another.

“She hit her head harder than we thought.”

“I HEARD THAT.”

I started pacing around the room.

“No no no no.”

This was insane.

This only happened in weird novels and anime.

People don’t just die and enter books.

That’s psychotic.

That’s illegal.

I died because I was angry over fictional men?

Embarrassing.

Absolutely humiliating.

I suddenly froze.

Wait.

If this was really Vows & Vendettas—

Then this was still the beginning.

Before Natasha’s death.

Before her forced marriage.

Before the obsession.

Before all the insane betrayal.

Before Jae’s psycho era.

I still had time.

I could leave.

I could literally disappear.

Natasha was filthy rich.

Like private-jet rich.

“Wait…”

I opened her bank app.

And nearly screamed.

“Oh my god—I’m loaded.”

One assistant gasped.

“Miss Natasha!”

“Do you know what this means?!”

They stared at me nervously.

“I can leave these toxic people behind.”

Beach house.

Cocktails.

Dogs.

Peace.

No emotionally damaged billionaires.

No psychopath best friend.

No tragic death.

Perfect.

I quickly started shoving designer bags with jewelry.

Cash.

Cards.

Passport.

Everything.

One assistant panicked.

“Miss Natasha, what are you doing?!”

“Escaping trauma.”

“Your father will kill us!”

“At least you’ll be alive unlike me if I stay here!”

They looked terrified.

Understandable.

I was halfway toward the door when loud footsteps echoed downstairs.

Then—

gunshots.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

I froze.

“…what the fuck?”

Everyone in the room went silent.

Another gunshot echoed.

Then screaming downstairs.

My soul nearly left my body.

“WHY ARE THERE GUNS?!”

One assistant looked confused.

“…your families are mafia rivals.”

Right.

Right.

I forgot that tiny detail.

This wasn’t just rich people drama.

This was rich criminal empire drama.

Even worse.

Before I could process anything—

my bedroom door opened.

And everything inside me stopped functioning.

A man walked in wearing a black suit with blood splattered across his white shirt sleeve.

He looked completely unbothered.

Dark messy hair.

Sharp jawline.

Tattoo peeking from his neck.

Cold gray eyes.

And a gun casually hanging from his hand.

He was horrifyingly attractive.

Which pissed me off.

He glanced at my packed bags.

Then at me.

His lips curved into a dangerous smirk.

“Running away before our engagement party, Natasha?”

My jaw dropped.

No.

No no no.

Not him.

Damian Ashford.

The male lead.

The walking red flag.

The reason Natasha needed therapy.

And why was he hotter in real life?!

This was unfair.

He stepped closer.

“Missed me?”

I stared at him in horror.

Then blurted—

“You’re way hotter than I imagined.”

Silence.

Everyone froze.

Damian blinked.

I blinked.

Oh.

Oh no.

Why would I say that out loud?!

Damian stared at me...

..

I stared at Damian.

The entire room went silent...

..

Even the assistants looked like they wanted to disappear into another dimension.

My brain finally processed what had just happened.

You’re way hotter than I imagined.

Out loud.

To the male lead.

The same man who ruined Natasha’s life.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

I forced out an awkward laugh.

“Haha…”

Nobody laughed.

I wanted to pass away for the second time.

“That came out wrong,” I blurted quickly. “Not that you’re not attractive—because unfortunately, you are very attractive which is honestly annoying—but I meant—”

Why was I still talking?

Why?

“I mean—I expected you to be uglier because of your personality.”

Silence.

Even worse silence.

One of the assistants gasped so loudly I thought she was dying.

Damian slowly tilted his head.

His expression remained unreadable.

Then—

he laughed.

I froze.

Wait.

What?

In the novel, Damian Ashford barely smiled.

And yet right now—

he was actually laughing.

A deep low laugh.

The kind that made him look even more unfairly attractive.

This was bad.

Very bad.

He suddenly stepped closer.

Then closer.

Then closer.

Until I could smell his expensive cologne mixed with gunpowder.

Wait—

gunpowder?

I looked down.

Blood stained the sleeve of his white shirt.

And there it was.

A gun.

An actual gun.

In his hand.

My soul almost left my body.

“WHY DO YOU HAVE A GUN?!”

He looked confused.

“…your family shot at mine first.”

Right.

Right.

The mafia rivalry.

Totally forgot that tiny detail.

Normal day.

I nodded nervously.

“Understandable.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“Understandable?”

“Yep.”

“You’re unusually calm.”

“I’m internally screaming.”

That seemed to amuse him even more.His eyes slowly moved from my face…

to the suitcase near my bed.

Then the passport sticking out of my bag.

His expression darkened.

“Were you planning to run away from our engagement?”

…shit.

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