Once More, Mr. James!

I fell asleep frustrated after reading a domestic drama novel that Sandra, my friend, had given me. I had slept so deeply that when I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar place.

Then, an unfamiliar touch woke me up.

"Who are you?" I asked, pulling myself away from the man who had suddenly hugged me.

"Don't pretend you've lost your memory, Alana," that baritone voice sounded deep and heavy with pressure, piercing straight into my ears. "Do you think cheap tricks like this will make me accept your filing?"

I blinked in confusion. "Alana?" I repeated.

The man pulled back. Before I realized it, my gaze was fixed on his biceps.

Oh shit! Rhea, get a hold of yourself! my mind cheered.

The man just scoffed. "You have one month to find a lawyer, Alana. I've already prepared myself for it."

"Wait, wait. What is this even about? Mister, I'm Rhea."

The man turned around. "Are you pretending to have amnesia again?"

"Don't test my patience, Alana," he hissed without looking back, his hand already gripping the handle of the spacious bedroom door. "My decision is final. That divorce paper won't make it to your hands."

Bang!

The door slammed shut, leaving me frozen on the bed with my heart pounding wildly. My brain was completely deadlocked. How could I—who had just fallen asleep soundly in my studio apartment after cursing out the novel Sandra gave me—now be trapped in Alana’s body? The antagonist who had just been dumped by her husband?

And wait... that man... his face was exceptionally handsome, even though his aura resembled an executioner's.

I rubbed my face roughly. "Damn it, this is completely insane," I muttered in frustration, looking around the unfamiliar monochrome luxury bedroom.

I walked toward the bathroom. It was almost twice the size of my entire bedroom. Then, the memories of the storyline in the novel rushed into my head.

“I’m going to go on a date with William, my lover in the novel.” What did William even look like to make Alana so obsessed with him? I wondered to myself.

I stared at my reflection in the large bathroom mirror. Alana’s face was stunning, a far cry from my plain appearance as an everyday barista. However, the memories of the novel I read last night slowly began to flow into my mind, bringing the details of this tragic plot into focus.

William. That man was the reason Alana was on the brink of ruin.

“Just how great could William possibly look that Alana was willing to sacrifice a husband as handsome as that man?” I wondered out of curiosity, trying to recall William’s description written in the novel.

The elderly maid lowered her head, not daring to meet my eyes directly. There was fear hidden in her gestures—it seemed the original Alana truly had a terrible reputation in this house.

"Mr. James said that Madam must stay in the house until the Master's lawyer arrives this afternoon," the maid replied in a soft, hesitant voice. "The Master also asked the guards at the front to make sure Madam doesn't go anywhere."

I let out a long sigh. Am I under house arrest now? You've got to be kidding me!

That handsome man named James really intended to lock me up. And yet, I had just wanted to step outside to find out William's whereabouts and see for myself what kind of man drove Alana to ruin her own life.

"Then, where is my phone?" I asked the maid, trying to stay calm.

The elderly maid handed me the phone. I dialed the contact named William and called him to cancel our meeting.

I could hear William fuming on the other end of the line.

"You can come to my house, William," I said.

On the other end of the line, there was a moment of silence before an incredulous snort boomed loudly.

"Come to your house? Are you crazy, Alana?" William sneered, his voice sharp and full of annoyance. "The gates of your rich husband's mansion are heavily guarded. Do you want James to find me there and kill me?"

I rolled my eyes, leaning my body against the cushions of the luxury sofa in the living room.

"He left this morning, William," I replied casually, trying to adapt to the situation. "Besides, the guards at the front are only told not to let me out, they aren't forbidden from letting other people in. Just come if you actually intend to meet."

"Tsk, what is wrong with you today? Why is the way you talk sounding so weird?" William asked suspiciously, though from the tone of his voice, I could tell his curiosity was piqued.

"Just show up, or this date is canceled forever," I threatened briefly before hanging up on him.

I stared at the dark phone screen, then curved my lips into a faint smile. I was genuinely curious about what the man who made Alana willing to risk everything in this novel looked like.

I then headed to the kitchen to see what food I could make to soothe my gnawing hunger. The elderly maid anxiously followed my steps.

"What are you doing, Madam?"

"I want to cook," I replied.

"Let me do the cooking instead."

"Why? I want to cook."

The memory of Alana destroying the kitchen the last time she tried to cook made me laugh.

"No wonder this old maid forbade me from going to the kitchen. It's because of this female character. How annoying!"

The maid looked even paler, her hands nervously twisting the hem of her uniform as if I had just threatened to blow up the house.

"I'm sorry, Madam... but Mr. James will surely scold me if anything happens to the kitchen or if Madam gets hurt," she coaxed with a trembling voice.

I gave a soft huff, which was fair enough. If I were a maid here and had a mistress whose only job was making trouble and destroying things, I probably would have done the exact same thing. But the problem was, I wasn't the lazy, incompetent Alana. In the real world, I was a barista used to moving fast and skillfully behind the bar counter, often even preparing light meals myself.

"Relax, Auntie. This time I'm not going to burn down that stiff husband's precious kitchen," I said with a small smirk, trying to calm the middle-aged woman down. "I just want to make something simple to fill my stomach."

Hearing my tone, which sounded friendlier than usual, the maid looked slightly confused, but finally nodded in resignation—though her eyes continued to watch my every move with caution.

***