When I died, I was given a choice: move on to heaven, or be reborn across countless worlds as an agent—a guide, a shadow, the helping hand for someone else's story. I chose the job. Life after life, I played the sidekick, the mentor, the background noise. I was the one who helped the main characters shine, and when my part was done, I moved on.
Until this time.
This time, something’s wrong. I wasn’t reborn to support anyone. I am the main character. The story centers around me, and I don’t know how to fix it. There’s no script, no target, no exit strategy.
And for the first time in all my lives, I’m afraid. Because I was never meant to be the main character.
Trigger Warning
Mature content between multiple men, blackmail, etc.
Hey, my Royalties, this is a dark romance, so please be aware of that before you read.
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