"Look here!"
"Here, please!"
Camera flashes lit up the glamorous entrance of the Imperial House, a hangout for the rich—the biggest names in every industry. The shouts of photographers calling for guests to look their way chorused through the air, and the flashes of lights continued nonstop.
Each person stepping out of a car and making their way to the entrance would either pause and smile for the cameras or ignore them completely. Either way, nothing could stop the relentless clicking.
"Oh, it's Michelle Reid!" someone yelled, turning attention to a limousine pulling up. In an instant, a swarm of photographers rushed forward, eager to capture a shot of one of the most controversial models.
"Michelle, please look here!"
"Michelle, you are so pretty! Smile for me!"
Compliments and demands roared in the air as a beautiful woman stepped out of the limousine. Just the sight of her long, fair leg sent the cameras flashing in a frenzy, heightening the night's excitement. Yet, the woman didn't budge—clearly one of those who chose to ignore the attention.
As people trailed her with their cameras, another figure emerged from the limousine. She was just as gorgeous as Michelle Reid, but no one paid her any attention. Why? Because, unlike the first woman, she wasn't in the limelight—though she was undoubtedly one of the elites.
Everyone was too preoccupied with the most famous guests of the night to notice those who weren't as high profile. And so, as Michelle and her companion entered the exclusive venue, the crowd quickly moved on to the next arrivals.
Inside the Imperial House, the night carried on in full swing.
---
"Haha. No, thank you, Mitch," a woman said, chuckling as she sat in a limousine, talking on the phone. "I had fun tonight at the Imperial House, so you don't need to worry."
"I'm glad you liked the place, despite all the media attention," the other woman replied, clearly pleased before teasing. "Anyway, let me know when you're coming back after settling your royal affairs back home. I'll throw you the biggest welcome-back party, Your Highness."
The woman in the limousine chuckled, nodding. "You know I hate being called that, but sure, Michelle."
After a brief exchange, the call ended. As soon as she hung up, she downed the champagne in her hand, her lips curling in satisfaction. Leaning back against the plush seat, she gazed out the window.
Her red lips stretched into a smirk. "The city looks so pretty."
Even this late at night, the city was alive. The lights shimmered like fairy lights, illuminating the streets and casting a warm glow. And looking at it all from the backseat of the latest and most expensive limousine, with champagne in hand, draped in luxury from head to toe, made everything feel a hundred times better.
This was life.
A life of luxury, the wild buzz of media attention, surrounded by the most famous and controversial figures. Some found it overwhelming. But she? She found it amusing. After all, she was in the very center of the socialite circle—yet had managed to remain out of the spotlight.
Another pleased smirk played on her lips as she recalled meeting some of the biggest public figures at Imperial House.
"I love this world," she whispered, her smirk deepening.
DING!
Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone buzzing three consecutive times. She glanced down, and the smile on her face slowly faded.
[BANK OF HILL COLLECTION TEAM:
Good day! Your payment for your emergency loan…]
[ISLAND BANK LOAN:
Good day! Your loan…]
[BANK OF COMMERCE:
This is a notice for your failed payment on your credit card…]
The satisfaction in her expression vanished as she stared at the messages. Checking her emails, she found an avalanche of notices from different banks—failed payments, overdue balances, and legal warnings.
Letting out a shallow breath, she drained the rest of her champagne.
'I'll be in deep trouble if I don't do something about this,' she thought, biting the tip of her thumb. 'Just a little more… I met a lot of people at the Imperial House—I must have made some useful connections.'
Biting her lip, she racked her brain for ways to settle her debts. After all, the glamour, the luxurious lifestyle—everything she claimed to be—was nothing but an illusion. A dream she should have had… but one that had been stolen from her at a young age.
"It's fine," she murmured, straightening her posture and sending a message to one of her "friends." She smiled as soon as she tapped send—
HONK!
HONK!
Her breath caught. Instinctively, she turned—
A blinding light came straight at her.
BOOM!
The limousine, speeding across the city bridge, swerved into the opposite lane as a dump truck barreled into its side. Tires screeched. Smoke curled into the night air. A loud, gut-wrenching crash echoed through the city.
Then—
Silence.
Time seemed to freeze as the limousine teetered at the edge of the bridge. A heartbeat later, it plunged into the dark waters below.
The world went mute.
Spectators stood frozen, watching the car disappear into the depths.
---
'It hurts…'
She forced her eyes open. A dim light flickered above her, distorted by rippling water.
She was sinking. Deeper and deeper into the cold, dark abyss.
'No,' she pleaded in her mind, reaching out despite the searing pain in her body. 'Somebody help me…'
But no one came. The dim light faded as she descended, swallowed by water.
'... Or not.'
Who would help someone like her?
A woman who had lived a life of deception? A fraud who stole from the rich just to pretend she was one of them?
'I don't… regret it,' she thought as she closed her eyes, surrendering to the water's embrace. 'Being the bad guy.'
---
GASP!
A sharp inhale broke the silence.
A woman burst out of the water, gasping for air. She stumbled forward, chest heaving in and out heavily. When she gazed down, the water barely reached her legs.
"Hah…" She exhaled in relief. "It's not that deep."
Her heart pounded. She had felt like she was drowning — like she had been sinking into an endless void. But now… she was standing.
A nervous laugh slipped from her lips as she ran a hand through her damp hair.
"So silly," she muttered, her fingers catching on something strange. Her brows furrowed. She looked at her arm.
Wide, flowing but drenched sleeves.
"Huh?" Confusion twisted her features. Slowly, she lifted her gaze—
Men.
Dozens of them.
They stood in a circle around the spring she was in, clad only in thin white fabrics around their waists. Golden collars adorned their necks, ankles, wrists, linked together by such heavy chains.
Her breath hitched. "Eh?"
She blinked. Once. Twice. Her face turning redder and redder.
Then—
"EH?!"