Aika's head was throbbing—a deep, persistent ache that vibrated with the low, continuous hum of voices nearby.

Wow, I wasn't supposed to die from a car or did i hit, by a truck oh i don't recall she thought groggily. It really hurts. Are people just waiting for me to catch my last breath? And where the hell did that stupid driver go?

She was definitely alive. Aside from the heavy pain in her skull, nothing else hurt.

Okay, Aika. Time to open your eyes and deal with the insurance forms.

She forced her eyelids apart.

Instead of the sterile white ceiling of a hospital or the chipped plaster of her apartment, she saw a vast, smooth expanse of glass, faintly tinted against the harsh light. The air smelled not of disinfectant, but of something expensive and artificial.

Where am I?

She was lying in a massive, obscenely soft bed. The sheets were silk, not cotton, and when she tried to sit up, the mattress barely shifted. The entire space was minimalist, filled with polished chrome and custom-made furniture—the kind of hyper-modern luxury she'd only seen in K-Drama sets.

The sleek, handleless door slid open with a quiet electronic whoosh.

A man entered, holding a tablet and a small glass of water. He was wearing a tailored grey suit and looked less like medical staff and more like a CEO's right hand. He didn't smile.

He glanced at her, perfectly professional, and inclined his head only slightly.

"Madam, you are awake. The Board meeting is set for one hour. I took the liberty of cancelling your massage therapist—you need to review the quarterly report. Also, your father called."

Aika froze. Madam? Board meeting?

"Excuse me, sir," Aika muttered, her voice sounding strange—deeper, more commanding than her own, even when she meant it to be timid. "Are you addressing me?"

The man's expression remained flat, but a flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes as he checked the tablet.

"Madam, the Chairman dislikes delay. And your doctor advised against asking rhetorical questions after your… little episode yesterday. Your car was involved in a minor traffic situation near the academy gates. You insisted on exiting the vehicle to shout at the other driver, causing you to trip and hit your head on the curb. A complete embarrassment. Your father demands immediate damage control."

Aika blinked, reeling from the information. Shout at a driver? Cause an embarrassment? This Helena is nothing like me.

She swung her legs off the bed, stumbling toward the nearest reflective surface. It wasn't a mirror, but a tall, dark wall that served the same purpose.

A girl with impossibly glossy black hair, sharp features, and eyes that looked naturally smokey stared back. She was beautiful, intimidating, and looked like the antagonist of every romance she'd ever read.

This was not her face.

A gasp caught in Aika's throat, but it came out as a sharp, superior intake of breath that sounded incredibly rude.

Isekai. It's an isekai, Aika's inner bookworm screamed. But I'm not the poor heroine. I'm… the rich bitch.

Before Aika could fully process the shock, the executive placed the glass of water and a black, high-tech phone on the bedside table.

"Your father requested you call him immediately after waking. And I must inform you that your latest social media post caused a significant dip in the family's stock. Please try to be less inflammatory, Madam. We don't have time for a PR cleanup before the meeting. I will leave you for precisely ten minutes to compose yourself."

With another curt nod, he backed out, the door whooshing shut again.

Aika stared at the expensive phone. Rude. Superior. Causes stock market drops?

Then, the relief flooded in, chasing away the shock.

Wait. My name is Helena here. I'm rich. I'm an adult with completed studies. I have no exams. And most importantly, nobody knows I'm Aika.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across Helena's perfect, terrifying features.

My reset button is a golden spoon. I can finally do whatever I want without feeling awkward.

She launched herself onto the huge bed. "Yes! This is called life! Hell yeah!" she cried, jumping up and down happily. Who cares about exams? Who cares about awkwardness? I'm free!

Exhausted, she tumbled onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest.

Wow, what the hell happened? Thank you, kitten, she murmured, patting her chest. But the residual throbbing in her head brought her back to reality. She touched her forehead and felt a small, neat bandage tucked beneath the hairline.

The sudden, overwhelming reality of Helena's life—corporations, social disasters, the looming Board meeting, and a demanding father—hit Aika like a second truck.

Hell no, man. What a complete mess I've ended up in. I want to go back!

She quickly shot up, her eyes wide. She snatched the flimsy, silk nightwear from the floor and bolted out of the room. Her brain screamed a single directive: Go!

The executive assistant, realizing the "young madam" was making a break for it, shouted: "Madam! Wait! Where are you going in that attire?!"

A moment later, Aika heard a chaotic wave of footsteps behind her. Running in a desperate, single file behind the executive assistant were at least five or six uniformed servants—a butler, a maid, and various other staff—all trying to keep up with the suddenly fleeing heiress.

"Madam! Please wait!" The assistant's voice was strained.

Aika didn't slow down. She slammed the 'Down' button on the elevator, then bolted through the breakfast nook, slammed into a huge, silent dining room, and finally burst through a set of French doors and into a vast, manicured garden.

Go, Helena! Get hit by another car and go back to your real life! It's better there! Just give the exam, do your part-time job, eat the best food, play games, and read novels! Hell no, I am not going to deal with this business girl's messed-up life!

Far, far away, she spotted the wrought-iron silhouette of the main gate. Freedom!

She pushed toward it, silk nightgown snagging on a rose bush.

Almost there! Almost—

A figure appeared suddenly in her peripheral vision. It wasn't the executive; it was a security guard on a motorized cart, cutting her off. Behind her, the executive assistant and the train of servants were gaining ground, all of them panting.

Aika skidded to a halt just inches from a marble fountain.

The executive assistant stopped, bracing his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. The entire staff line behind him stopped in ragged relief.

Wait. If I run out there in this nightgown, I'll be photographed. And if I am Helena D'Arven, a scandal will probably lead directly to my ruin/jail destiny.

A big, victorious smile spread across Helena's beautiful, villainous face. I'm out of this novel as well! Aika thought.

"You people, stop running behind me!" Helena yelled over her shoulder at the chasing staff. "Just wait a little! Your real Madam will be back!"

She pushed forward, ready to burst through the gate—and that's when it happened.

The massive gate rumbled open. A sleek, pitch-black luxury car, impossibly polished, silently slid through.

The driver's door of the black car swiftly opened. A tall man emerged. He was dressed impeccably, radiating an aura of cold, powerful authority that Aika instantly recognized from every romance novel she had ever read.

Oh, hell no, Aika thought, a cold dread pooling in her stomach. That has to be...

The man, Airon, looked directly at Helena—who was standing barefoot in a crumpled silk nightgown, surrounded by six panting servants.

A sickening feeling of recognition hit Helena. She knew that cold gaze, that sharp jawline, and that intimidating presence. He was the Male Lead.

"Helena," Airon's voice was low and commanding, the sound of a CEO who never needed to raise his voice. "What kind of pathetic display is this?"

Helena didn't wait for Airon's command. I don't know who this hell man is, Aika thought, panicking. He's handsome, but sir, I am not gonna stay! You kitten, you played your trick, but I am not gonna stop!

She bolted right past him. She didn't listen; she just ran, ignoring the imposing man who had just emerged from the luxury car.

To her horror, she heard the sound of footsteps immediately behind her—long, powerful strides that were closing the gap quickly. Airon was running after her now.

A sudden chill went down Helena's spine. Did he also start chasing me?

She twisted her head back while running, her silk nightgown flying around her.

"Hey, bro, why are you chasing me?" Helena yelled, not breaking stride.

Airon's voice was sharp and frustrated. "Stupid girl! Why are you running?!"

"Why? What do you mean? I have to go home! You also do your work, don't pay attention to me!" Helena shouted back, gesturing wildly toward the house. "Look, your minions inside also gave up running behind me! Listen to me, you'll get your money back at home in a few hours, so just let me go!"

I just need to find another truck! Aika's mind screamed.

She was so focused on yelling at the man behind her that she failed to notice the terrain. Her foot caught on an unseen stone near the fountain.

Helena stumbled, losing all momentum. Before she could recover, Airon, moving with athlete-like speed, closed the distance.

Helena's head slammed hard directly into his impossibly broad, muscular chest.

The impact knocked the breath out of her. Her mouth slipped out a choked sound of pure shock and pain.

"Oh, f*ck!"

She stumbled back, clutching her forehead where the bandage was. She was dizzy, staring up at the man she had just collided with—the cold, powerful CEO, Airon Thalorien.

Now who is he to stop me?! Aika thought, her panic turning into sheer, painful frustration.