The year I was at rock bottom, I took on three "conquest" missions.

Number One was a tech prodigy.

Number Two was a genius doctor.

Number Three was a top dog in the legal world.

Judging by how busy they all were, I thought that with some careful time management, handling all three would be a piece of cake.

However, I forgot one thing. Three CEOs meant dealing with three difficult girlfriends.

That morning, Number One CEO Eric's childhood sweetheart accused me of stealing her charm bracelet. Eric beat me, yelled at me, and made me stand all day.

That afternoon, Number Two's Ron's girlfriend tore into me, figuratively ripping my kidney out. Ron warned me that he had only let me get close so I could serve as a stand-in for her.

By evening, Number Three's Lance had his girlfriend taking secret photos of me and spreading rumors, and he told me to be gracious, saying she was "just joking."

I could not take this nonstop 24-hour torture anymore, so I told the system, I quit. I want to go home.

The system replied, "Quitting is simple. Just die in this world."

I listened.

However, after I executed my death escape, why did all three CEOs completely lose their composure?

I was flat broke.

Desperate for cash, when the system offered me 15 million bucks for completing just one strategy mission, I jumped at the chance and snagged three.

Back in my old world, I was the kind of person who could juggle three jobs in a single day.

I figured I would be playing Cupid for some tough-as-nails CEOs, maybe even fall in a whirlwind romance.

As it turned out, each of those high-and-mighty execs had a long-lost love they could not forget.

For five long years, I was put through the wringer by those three unattainable crushes. Not once did I make their hearts skip a beat.

My body and mind were at their breaking point.

The system said I would be free if I died, and right then, I was in the middle of a punishment from CEO number one, Eric.

His childhood sweetheart had just come back to town, lost her charm bracelet, and was dead set on blaming me.

I swore I was innocent.

Nonetheless, Eric was livid. He slapped me hard across the face. "You're the only one who touched Janet's bag. If it wasn't you, then who?" he demanded.

Janet Charlton stood by, sobbing her heart out, "Eric, that charm bracelet was the last thing my grandma left me. It's all I have left of her. If it's gone, I'll fall apart."

Her tears only fueled his rage, and he kicked me right in the knee.

The pain sent me tumbling to the ground as he bellowed, "Yara, I'm asking you one last time. Did you take the charm bracelet? Where did you hide it? If you won't talk, you'll stand here till nightfall."

It was the dead of winter. Daytime, sure, but the thermometer's mercury had plunged well below zero.

Standing till nightfall could mean not freezing to death, but it could cripple me for life. Knowing Eric, whether I confessed or not, I was in for a day of punishment.

I had held on for five years, but I could not take it anymore.

I straightened up and screamed at Eric with all the force I could muster.

"I'm the thief! I did it!

"I should be condemned for snatching her charm bracelet. I'll pay with my life right now. Happy now?"

Without waiting for any reaction, I spun on my heel and dashed for the artificial lake by the villa.

It might have been man-made, but it was deep enough to hold a thousand secrets, and one more would not make a difference. If I jumped, it was game over.

I reached the edge and leaped without a second thought.

To my shock, Eric plunged in after me.

"Yara, have you lost your mind?!"

Eric was the first big-shot I got to know in this world, a real tycoon, but with the complicated backstory of being the family's secret.

When I first met him, Janet had ditched him over money, and his family had kicked him to the curb because he was sick with liver cancer.

I was all in, trying to win his trust. I brought him into my tiny apartment, nursed him through his illness, and hustled like crazy to scrape together cash for his treatments. I even went as far as donating part of my liver when we turned out to be a match.

Eric bounced back, and with a little push from me, he climbed his way to the top of the business world.

Just when Eric was practically 99% smitten with me, Janet came back.

She spun that tale about not leaving for the cash but because Eric's family had strong-armed her. She talked about her tough times abroad and how Eric was always on her mind.

Eric played it cool, but I could tell he was swayed. The moment Janet stepped back into our lives, his affection for me took a nosedive to ninety percent.

When Janet accused me of giving her the cold shoulder, Eric was down to 80%. When she claimed I pushed her, it dropped to 70.

Over five years, Eric's feelings for me were like a roller coaster, finally settling at a chilly 30%.

I had always thought Eric's heart would not skip a beat for me again.

However, when I woke up in the hospital, I saw his concern for me had spiked to 50%.

It was not just his concern that had changed. Eric was different, too.

He rushed to my side as I tried to sit up, propping a pillow behind me with care.

"Take it easy," he said gently. "The doctor mentioned you've got a concussion."

The air was biting cold, and the lake had turned to ice.

That explained the throbbing pain in my head. I must have hit the ice.

His soft voice, though, made the room spin a little less.

Eric squirmed under my stare and looked away. "We found the charm bracelet. I got it wrong about you.

"It was the nanny who took it. She claimed it was a mix-up and thought it was hers. I've let her go.

"Yara, Janet jumped to conclusions too quickly. I've talked to her. She's going to apologize to you."

'Who owes who an apology? Is Janet really going to say sorry to me?' I could not quite grasp it.

Before I could even process it, Eric had brought Janet in from the hallway.

She stood by my bed, her apology coming out more forced than heartfelt.

After her half-hearted 'sorry,' she could not resist a dig.

"Yara, let's try to talk things out next time, okay? You leaping into the lake gave us all a fright. We're adults. We can sit down and work through issues."

I used to bite my tongue for Eric's sake, to keep the peace with Janet.

I never fought back against her snide remarks.

However, I was done playing nice.

"Who's not talking things through? I tried. Did anyone listen?

"I told you from the start it wasn't me, but no one believed me. And Eric, you call that an apology? You wanted me to apologize to her as if I should stand outside till nightfall. If she's falsely accused me, shouldn't she face the same?"

Janet paled.

Eric's brow creased in concern, though he remained silent.

Janet, putting on a show, said, "Yara's right. I'll go back and stand if it keeps her from getting mad."

With those words, she dashed out of my hospital room.

Eric glanced back at me, his expression turning grim, but he held back any biting remarks.

"Yara, how could you be so harsh with Janet? She's sick and can't be on her feet for too long. I'm going to go stop her. Please don't make those kinds of jokes anymore."

Once Eric had left, the system suddenly activated.

"Host, that was a clever move."

I asked, "What move?"

"The whole 'go die' act. Number One's affection meter just shot up. Should we keep up the pressure?"

I declined.

My dramatic exit only bumped Eric's affection meter up by 20%. Clearly, he was not that into me.

Why bother trying to win him over?

As I was contemplating my next move, my phone rang.

"Celestial Club 308. Be there in thirty minutes."

The call ended before I could respond.

No question about it–that was Lance, my enigmatic Number Three.

Lance, the lawyer, and I only met under the cover of night. Plagued by insomnia, he found solace in my arms.

Initially, our encounters were innocent, just sharing sleep.

However, one night, after one too many drinks, he crossed a line.

Amid my struggle, he confessed, "I like you, and I'll take care of you."

I was not one to get swept up in romance. It was just that Lance was ridiculously attractive, with the looks of a Hollywood heartthrob and the physique of a personal trainer. I fell into the same trap any woman might have.

After that night, I finally checked his affection meter.

A mere 30%.

Well, I was not disheartened. I figured eventually, I would win him over completely.

So, I kept finding ways to treat him right.

I was his personal chef, his therapist, his yes-girl. Whatever he wanted, I was there.

I kept thinking, if I just kept at it, one day he would see me differently.

However, I overheard him talking to his buddies, "She's not someone I like. She's just a convenient tool.

"I don't have feelings for her. It's Elaine I'm into."

He meant Elaine Harris, his friend, the sweetheart of their clique.

Ever since Lance dragged me to one of their hangouts, Elaine had it out for me.

She would throw dirty jokes my way and whisper sweet nothings to Lance, loud enough for everyone to hear.

At first, Elaine's jabs did not faze me. I mean, they were nothing compared to the physical torture I had endured from people like Janet.

However, when Elaine saw her words bounce off me, she upped her game.

She convinced Lance to snap some private pictures of me, even shot a bunch of little videos.

They would gamble with them at their secret parties, trading them like baseball cards.

When I found out, I was livid, ready to dial 911.

However, Lance said, "I'm a lawyer. You call the cops, and I'll have Elaine out in no time.

"Sure, Elaine might be safe, but can you say the same for yourself once those videos go viral?"

I had no comeback.

Besides, I had bigger fish to fry. Two CEOs who would not take kindly to being second fiddle.

Crossing them meant more than just a slap on the wrist; it could mean game over for me.

Lance's text popped up, and I wanted to just ignore it.

I was done trying to win him over.

I then thought, 'Why let them have the upper hand? If I'm going down, they're coming with me.'

I grabbed my phone and stepped out, ready for battle.

I was running 10 minutes behind when I hit Celestial Club.

The moment I swung the door open, I saw Elaine's nauseating grin. "Yara, you're late. You know the drill: being late means a penalty. Your secret snaps just got pricier by fifteen grand. Pay up, or they hit the web."

Her smirk was wide and mocking. Lance lounged on a couch behind her, looking at her with eyes full of adoration.

I shot back without missing a beat, "Go ahead, post them."