I KISSED MY HATER IN THE STORY

Kayla Turi POVI stared at my reflection in the mirror.I didn't see my real face there. Its only Helena’s face, the same one I’d seen on the book cover. Nothing had really changed—except now it looked duller, more lifeless. My wavy hair was tied up with a rubber band, and my body looked thinner than I remembered.'Is this what Helena looks like after marrying that coward Oscar?'Pathetic.“Done admiring your face?!” an old woman snapped me.I turned around, trying to recall the names of Oscar’s mother and his sister.“You must be Deca,” I pointed at the older woman.“And you must be Magda Padip.”The hatred in their eyes sharpened.But instead of shrinking back, I let out a laugh and sat gracefully on the couch, crossing my legs like I owned the place. My chin lifted, my eyes steady as if daring them to challenge me.“Don’t you remember I’m the daughter of the Turi family?” I asked with pride.“You should think twice before treating me harshly. My father’s a wealthy man.”At least… t

I took a hesitant step closer, trying to catch a clearer look at his eyes.He's not blinking.I smacked my own forehead and let out a short laugh.“You idiot,” I muttered under my breath. "Of course he doesn't. He's blind. He relies on his instincts, not his sight."Then his low and steady, carrying an intimacy that made my skin prickle."You smell so sweet, darling. Tell me… are you finally ready for our wedding night?"The words wrapped around me like a noose. I bit my lips down hard, struggling to form an answer.Oh, Ety… why now? Why does Oscar have to appear now?The system's voice rang faintly in my head:The story has shifted. Oscar is here to claim the wedding night you've kept him waiting for.“Damn it…” I whispered. I had broken the story. Twisted it into something else entirely.And now I was the one who had to pay for it."I'm on my period, darling," I said to trick him."It's okay if you don't want to. But you can satisfy me in other ways, right?"Damn!I never thought he

"I'm still a vir–" I declared. But before I could finish, my words were swallowed as the bodyguard's grip silenced me. I was dragged away from the mansion before I could say another word.Julian's face flashed with shock at my revelation—or perhaps at the interruption itself. I had smiled knowing that this truth would change his mind about me. With my virginity intact, he would understand I wasn't the corrupted woman he believed me to be, despite Oscar legally being my husband.But it was too late.I now found myself kneeling in front of the grand mansion like discarded trash. The rain began to fall, heavy and relentless, as though the heavens themselves mourned my expulsion. I winced as my body ached from the rough landing.Nadira emerged from the mansion, her face twisted in a smirk of victory. She approached me slowly, tilting my chin up with her finger, her voice dripping with false sweetness tinged with malice. "Dear sister, you've always been the one obtaining everything from ou

The Turi name carried weight in this city—the kind of institutional power that transcended mere wealth and extended into the realm of social architecture. I discovered this truth within forty-eight hours of my escape from the Padip mansion, when a single phone call secured me a penthouse apartment in the city's most exclusive district despite my complete lack of current income or verifiable employment."Ms. Turi," the property manager had said with the deference reserved for old money and older influence, "we'd be honored to have you as a resident. Your family's reputation precedes you."The irony wasn't lost on me. The same family name that had imprisoned me was now the key to my liberation.The penthouse was a monument to minimalist luxury—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city's glittering sprawl, furniture selected for aesthetic precision rather than comfort, and enough empty space to make the loneliness feel intentional rather than accidental. I stood at those windows on m

The Celestial Hotel's grand ballroom glittered like a constellation brought to earth—crystal chandeliers refracting light into a thousand fractured rainbows, marble floors polished to mirror-perfection, and the city's elite circulating through the space like well-dressed predators assessing their territory.The charity gala was ostensibly raising funds for children's education—the kind of cause that allowed the wealthy to feel virtuous while displaying their wealth. I'd accepted the invitation knowing Nadira would be there. Her message had made that inevitable."Helena Turi," the announcer called as I entered, and conversations stuttered across the ballroom. Eyes turned. Assessments were made.I wore crimson—a deliberate provocation. The dress was architectural, structured to emphasize strength rather than fragility. My hair was pulled back severely, exposing the bone structure that photographs loved. I looked like someone who'd declared war and arrived to collect."My God, is that re