CH 1

“Lucia, Lucia? What do you think?”

I was lost in thought at the voice calling me, and I turned my eyes to the familiar yet unfamiliar scenery in front of me.

A woman wearing comfortable indoor clothes and sitting on the bed with a white lace blanket on her knees was talking to me.

Even though she was wearing very loose clothes, she was a truly sensual beauty.

Brilliant, lively blonde hair and surreal red ruby eyes. Red and thick lips, a small dot at the corner of the mouth, and attractive eyes that keep attracting attention.

It was truly a beauty worthy of a heroine in this world.

… No matter how beautiful she was, she was an ugly adulterous woman.

“… No, Rosalyn. The baby is so adorable.”

I calmed the arrogance burning inside me and handed the clot of blood I had held in my arms back to the nanny's arms.

My 'new sister' Rosalyn gave birth to 'my niece' not too long ago. It was also the cause that made me immersed in complicated thoughts.

Abigail, the child my brother's wife, Rosalyn, had with another man. It was the product of an affair.

Such an existence that makes you feel like a thousand dollars just by looking at it, but you can't just hate it.

What sins can a newborn baby do? The parents committed the sin.

And the thing that complicates me the most is that Abigail is such an adorable, pretty baby.

Even though I knew that this child was caused by Rosalyn's affair, I had no choice but to admit it.

Aren't normal newborns shriveled and red? Why the hell is Rosalyn's daughter, Abigail, so white, chubby, and cute?

Is this also a female lead buff?

“Yes? Maybe that's why it's so lovely…”

When I said that the child was adorable, Rosalyn folded her eyes into crescent moons and smiled happily.

I knew this scene. Because it was a scene that I read so many times, Rosalyn was now looking for traces of the man she loved on Abigail's face.

Her elaborate features resembled hers, but her eyes resembled the child's biological father.

The fruit of love are born between you and the man you love.

I felt sick to my stomach as I recalled the manipulative descriptions of how happy I was to hold the child in my arms.

No matter how much they tried to wrap it up with desperate love, the substance was nothing more than an affair.

“Lucia, what's wrong with you? You don't look well…”

Rosalyn looked at me worriedly, as if it was obvious that I was trying to hold back my upset stomach. Her pretending to be nice only made me angry.

It was a pretentious appearance that could not be imagined as a woman who shamelessly gave birth to another man's child and deceived her family members as if it were her husband's child.

“… I feel a little sick. I'll just get out of here.”

Not confident to see Rosalyn's happy face in this room anymore, I made up the excuse of being sick. I felt like my stomach was rumbling.

When I made an excuse that it would be bad for the newborn and the mother if she was sick, Rosalyn didn't catch me.

“Are you not feeling well, my lady? Shall I call the doctor?”

As I rushed out of Rosalyn's room and entered my room as if to run away, I, or rather, Lucia Chase's maid Samantha, asked with a worried face

“Not to that extent. I'll just take a little rest, and I'll be fine… I want to be alone for a while.”

As I spoke in a weary voice, quick-witted Samantha hurried out of the room, leaving a note to call if I needed anything.

I knew my symptoms all too well.

This was just a manifestation of trauma. It was because I was a person who freaked out even if only the word “fire” or “affair” came out.

Was the original Lucia Chase like that too? Unfortunately, I wasn't the original Lucia, and because of that, I don't know what she thought of the infidelity.

“Whoa…”

I let out a sigh of regret and remorse.

If I had known it would be like this, I would not have read novels like that.

No, even if I read it, I shouldn't have read it to the end.

The last word I left before I died was, “How did you write such a thing as a novel?” It would be better than this if I wrote it! It was the worst novel in the world.

Why did I possess a novel like this, even if I had to possess it? In this ridiculous world of infidelity.

Well, it wasn't just this world that made sense. Because my life, and the end of it, didn't make sense either.

What should we talk about first? From how I died? Or, why did I become such a flirtatious person that had an affair?

Okay, maybe I should start by talking about how an affair ruined my life.

I was born in Korea in the 21st century.

No, to be precise, I was born at the end of the 20th century.

At that time, all I could say was “eung-eung-eung-eung” and babbling, which I couldn't even understand, so I could say that I was born in the 21st century. I don't even remember.

And my life was completely ruined by the affair.

My father, a man with a lot of money and a good face, was a man who could not be satisfied with just one woman, and he always had two or three women besides my mother.

It was to the point of jokingly saying that he changes women for each day of the week.

It was a wealthy but not happy childhood. There was not a single day I could spend comfortably under my parents, who were fighting on fictitious days.

Even though they fought like that, her mother persevered. Believing her father's words that this is the last time, being betrayed, believing again, being betrayed again… It was a repeating life.

Then, when I was ten years old, they finally ended up getting divorced.

It was because the son of a bitch, who did not want to be called father, demanded a divorce because he had met a 'woman of his destiny'.

The bastard's bloodline grew in the belly of that 'woman of his destiny'.

It was a divorce 100% his fault.

Alimony? We did get it. Only 30 million won. {Approximately $24,000}

It was because he had a lot of assets, but he used a trick to return them all to another person's name for tax evasion.

And since then, a rich but unhappy life has become a 'poor and unhappy life'.

It was too tight for my mother and me, who were so-called light-weight women, to live with my meager child support.

Mom worked tirelessly. She endured all kinds of contempt and abuse, she took care of other people's houses, dealt with the truth about her drunkenness, and served as a substitute driver while dealing with drunken people.

She even washed dishes by soaking her hands in harsh detergent in a restaurant until the flesh on her palms peeled off.

Still, we were poor.

It was a daily life to boil and eat ramen alone in an empty house after school.

People are naturally sharp when they are in need, and my mother relieved the stress she received from others by getting angry with me.

Even knowing that, I couldn't take it out on my mom. But after I grew up, I fought against my mother every day.

Now… I regret it.

Because my mother, my only precious mother, died.

It was the year I entered college. My mother, who was on her way to work at dawn, was hit by a truck and died while working all night to earn her livelihood.

It was a drowsy driver.

The driver was also a pitiful person. A father who has to support a wife, a newborn son, and an old mother.

A truck driver who travels all over the country all night and lives on the salary he receives.

… Of course, it was not an environment where you could receive a lot of settlement money.

But I just agreed. If I don't agree, the driver's newborn son will live a poor and miserable life like me. I feel sorry for that.

So I became alone.

In a poor and tight life, my mother did not have a common insurance policy.

The meager child support payments my father sent stopped when I became an adult, and the meager settlement could not cover the cost of my expensive college tuition or live alone in the world.

So I took a leave of absence and worked part-time jobs like crazy.

I had no choice but to survive. Monthly rent, living expenses… I worked part-time at a café on weekdays, part-time job at a PC room on the weekends, and sometimes at a local convenience store at night, and took care of a decent daily wage.

It was only then that I realized how fiercely my mother had lived. Foolishly, my realization came too late.

It was a fantasy novel that I found on my small smartphone that served as the only way to relieve stress in a busy and difficult daily life.

And the last novel I saw before I died was, coincidentally, <Israji is in a mess.> which is the background of this world I am in right now.

<Israji is in a mess.>. Just hearing the title might sound like a pure love novel that explodes with emotions, but it was a novel about beautifying infidelity that was disgusting, like a beggar's feet.

Israji's flower language is 'only one love'.

Rosalyn Pirandello, the female protagonist, met the male protagonist, Albert Rudeus, in a garden where israji flowers were in full bloom. She fell in love with him at first sight, and the two promised eternal love.

But their happiness did not last long. Albert severely injured his head and became a vegetable.

Rosalyn waited in grief for him to wake up.

However, as time goes by, Rosalyn's parents are dissatisfied with their daughter waiting for a half-dead man with no sign of waking up and marrying her to Seamus Chase, the heir to a wealthy earl.

Seamus fell in love with the beautiful Rosalyn with all his heart, even though it was an arranged marriage. He was her obedient man who gave her all for her.

Despite Seamus' efforts, Rosalyn cannot forget Albert and spends every day in tears.

In fact, until this point, I saw it thinking it was a beautiful love.

However, the story takes a turn when Albert wakes up from a coma after several years.