That night—
Aarav couldn’t sleep.
The city lights outside the penthouse windows glowed softly in the dark, but his mind refused to calm down.
Too many memories were returning.
Too many details from the novel.
Beside him, Riyan was sprawled dramatically across the couch like a dying actor.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Riyan groaned.
Aarav didn’t even look up from the tablet in his hands.
“…You’ve been here for one day.”
“One emotionally exhausting day.”
Riyan sat up suddenly.
“…Do you know how stressful it is living with men who look like they own private islands?”
Aarav sighed quietly.
“…Focus.”
Because unlike Riyan—
he was beginning to remember the original story more clearly.
And the clearer it became—
the worse it looked.
The contract marriage wasn’t the real problem.
The heroine was.
Once she returned, everything in the novel changed.
The company became unstable.
The brothers started fighting.
And Aarav and Riyan—
the useless contract spouses—
became easy targets.
Manipulated.
Framed.
Discarded.
Dead.
Aarav slowly lowered the tablet.
“We’re supposed to die.”
The room fell silent.
Riyan’s playful expression disappeared immediately.
“…You remembered more?”
Aarav nodded.
“The heroine uses us.”
“She turns everyone against us.”
“And eventually…”
He paused.
“…we become the reason the brothers fall apart.”
Riyan stared blankly.
Then pointed at himself.
“…Me?”
Aarav looked at him flatly.
“Yes. You specifically become extremely useless.”
“WOW.”
“You asked.”
Riyan collapsed backward dramatically.
“…I refuse. I absolutely refuse to die because of rich people drama.”
Aarav leaned back against the chair.
“…Then we survive.”
Riyan blinked.
“…That simple?”
“No.”
A pause.
“…But we change the story before it reaches that point.”
Slowly, Riyan sat up again.
“…Can we even do that?”
Aarav thought carefully.
The novel depended on misunderstandings.
Manipulation.
Isolation.
If they avoided those things—
maybe the ending could change too.
“…We stay careful,” Aarav said quietly.
“We avoid the heroine.”
“We don’t trust the original plot.”
“And most importantly—”
He pointed seriously at Riyan.
“Do NOT get emotionally attached to the CEOs.”
Silence.
Then the bedroom door suddenly opened.
Ethan walked in casually.
Riyan stared for one second too long.
Tall.
Black shirt.
Rolled-up sleeves.
Dangerously handsome for no reason.
Riyan immediately looked away.
“…Step four might be difficult.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly.
“…What might be difficult?”
Riyan nearly choked on air.
“…NOTHING.”
Aarav covered his face slowly.
Ethan walked further into the room.
Completely calm.
“You’re needed downstairs,” he said.
Riyan narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“…Do rich people ever rest?”
Ethan smirked faintly.
“…No.”
Then he looked toward Aarav.
“Bring the contract files too.”
Aarav froze slightly.
Contract files?
In the original novel—
those files became important later.
Very important.
Something about the company’s financial situation…
His chest tightened slightly.
“…Understood,” Aarav answered calmly.
Ethan watched him for a second longer than necessary.
Then left the room.
The moment the door closed—
Riyan immediately turned toward Aarav.
“…See?!”
“…See what?”
“He’s unfairly attractive.”
Aarav looked exhausted.
“…We are discussing survival.”
“And I’m discussing distractions.”
Aarav stood up slowly.
“Listen carefully.”
His expression turned serious again.
“The original story destroyed our characters because they depended too much on the brothers emotionally.”
Riyan blinked.
“…So what do we do?”
Aarav answered immediately.
“We stay useful.”
No emotions.
No attachment.
No trust.
That was the safest way to survive.
Unfortunately—
neither of them noticed the figure standing quietly outside the half-open doorway.
Kian.
His expression unreadable.
As if he had heard something interesting.
And somehow—
that felt more dangerous than anger.
🔥 END EPISODE 4
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