I had been sucked into a novel, becoming a drop-dead gorgeous extra.

In the story, I lived right across from Eleanor Green, the female lead.

Every time she made a run for it, Clayton Blackwood, the male lead, accompanied by his bodyguards, came knocking down my door.

Within just two months, my poor door had been busted open like six or seven times.

And then it happened again.

"Damn it, couldn't you two just torment each other without dragging the neighbors into it?"

1

BANG BANG BANG!

The all-too-familiar sound of door-banging was deafening.

No need to guess; Eleanor had bolted again.

Following the script, Clayton suspected she was hiding at my place. After a few bangs, he lost his cool and ordered his goons to smash the door.

They turned my place upside down, and once they confirmed she wasn't there, they angrily threw a check at me for a new door.

This childish game played out three or four times a month; I was practically on a first-name basis with the local locksmith.

The noise outside kept getting louder, and just as I saw Clayton about to signal another door smash, I furrowed my brows and flung the door open myself.

True to form, he had that brooding, heartbreaker look plastered all over his face.

He glared down at me, hands in pockets, towering and ominous, "Hand her over."

Like hell I will!

Keeping up appearances, I tiptoed and met his gaze, saying each word slowly, "Wise men don't fall in love, let's make America beautiful again, get it?"

The so-called dominant CEO couldn't seem to handle his own love-sick brain.

With all this 'chase her, catch her, she can't escape' effort, imagine how much wealth he could have created, how many aircraft carriers he could have built for the nation, or how many meals he could have provided for kids in the mountains?

Think bigger, will ya!

Having not seen this coming, he was clearly stunned by my rant.

Just as I thought, a small fry in a big pond—nowadays, any schmuck thinks he can be a top dog, thumbs down!

I mentally scoffed at him and didn't hide my disdain, speaking up again, "Clayton Blackwood, Eleanor wasn't here, and even if she were, you had no right to burst in here—that's trespassing, and there are legal consequences for that."

Not only was he narrow-minded, but also clueless about the law. No matter how handsome, he was a total turn-off.

I was done with the back-and-forth and ready to shut the door, but before I could, Clayton stopped it with his hand.

He kept that condescending look, "You're spouting this weird stuff just to get my attention, aren't you?"

I was rendered speechless.

People used to bind feet, now it seemed like he had his brain all tied up.

I suppressed the urge to throw up last night's dinner and coldly told Clayton, "You're reading way too much into it. Even if you were the last love-sick CEO on earth, I wouldn't take you even if for free."

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt."

Clayton, having been the golden boy all his life, oozed arrogance. He waved his bodyguards away and strode into my apartment with his long legs swaggering.

With our physical mismatch, I couldn't stop him, and I braced myself, "What are you doing?"

Considering Clayton was the typical old-school romantic lead—deep in abusive love with the female lead, often drawing blood or taking organs for his angel.

It was terrifying to think he might fancy some part of me too!

The living room was a mess, with a dozen packing bags strewn around. Clayton's gaze swept over them, and then suddenly, he looked up, "Are you moving out?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't want to be harassed."

I was fuming, ready to bash Clayton's head in.

If it weren't for his insane routine of busting my door every now and then, would I even be forced to move? He should cover my moving costs!

"Harassed?"

Clayton looked at me intently, a sarcastic smile briefly crossing his face, "I've seen plenty of women like you, trying to get my attention with these antics, huh?"

A shiver ran through me, and mimicking Clayton's tone, I snapped back, "Mr. Blackwood, narcissism is a disease, too."

Thinking everyone's head over heels for you, huh? Well, I'm a dignified heir of capitalism, not swayed by your sweet nothings!

At my words, Clayton's gaze turned icy and threatening.

He advanced step by step, pinning me against the wall before stopping, his voice through gritted teeth, "What did you say?"

I was in trouble!

Regret washed over me as I realized Clayton wasn't just a scoundrel but also deeply paranoid. Once he believed something, nobody could convince him otherwise.

His conviction that Eleanor was a manipulative woman who had orchestrated his breakup with his old flame was his twisted form of romance to keep her close and torment her relentlessly.

I had thought his obsessive behavior was only directed at Eleanor, but now, was even a bystander like me not safe?

As a mere extra, how could I possibly contend with a corporate titan? I decided to play for time.

"Nothing, I mean... Eleanor has been away for so long, if you don't go looking for her, she might just end up with... Zack Morris..."

In this novel, Zack is a once-in-a-millennium devoted lover. Not just willing to shelter Eleanor, but even if she was pregnant with Clayton's child and ousted by a rival, he'd eagerly step in.

Clayton had always viewed Zack as a romantic rival, usually flying off the handle just at the mention of him.

Once this hothead left, I'd swiftly move my stuff and never see him again.

However, Clayton showed no signs of leaving, instead, he intensely furrowed his brows and fixed his stare on me, "Did you get Zack to take Eleanor away, to draw me here on purpose?"

I was again rendered speechless.

I couldn't fathom what special material Clayton's brain was made of, vigorously shaking my head, "Absolutely not, you can ask Eleanor yourself when you find her."

Just find her already, stop wasting time here!

Clayton stayed silent, and just when I thought he was about to leave, letting me breathe a sigh of relief, he darkly uttered, "You, come with me."

"On what grounds?"

Eleanor often fled because Clayton's old flame would stir up trouble, one day demanding blood, the next a kidney swap.

My blood type didn't match his old flame's—surely he wasn't planning to harvest my kidneys for a gourmet dish?

"You can refuse."

Clayton maintained his lofty demeanor, scorn flickering in his eyes, "Then the project with your company gets axed immediately."

Oh?

It hit me then; my role owned an interior design firm, now at the mercy of the mighty Blackwood Corporation.

The CEO of Blackwood Corporation is none other than Clayton Blackwood himself!

The despicable capitalist!

In my mind, I cursed Clayton out thoroughly, about to demand he should leave with dignity, when a strange voice suddenly echoed in my head.

"Dear host, remember, you're here with a mission. Only by transforming the tragic ending into a happy ending can you return to the real world!"

What the hell?

Is this some kind of joke?

Targeting my key to return, I took a deep breath, almost hurting myself internally, "Fine, I'll go wherever you say."

"Women, always saying one thing but meaning another."

Clayton scoffed from above, "I know all about Zack's tricks. Just trying to get my attention, right? I'll play along for a few days."

Play what?!

To secure a happy ending, I needed to reveal Eleanor's sufferings to Clayton. I got straight to the point. "Valerie White never had leukemia, she's perfectly healthy."

Valerie White was Clayton's first love. She accused Eleanor of using toxic building materials, claiming it gave her leukemia and forcing Clayton to make Eleanor donate blood and marrow.

In reality, Valerie was perfectly fine, frolicking around, while Eleanor's health was rapidly declining, soon to be diagnosed with stomach cancer.

Tragically, in the original story, it took over six months after Eleanor's death for Clayton to learn the truth.

Once Clayton knew the truth, he went insane, avenging Eleanor's torments by making Valerie's life unbearable.

What was the point of that?

In my opinion, a jerk like Clayton doesn't deserve Eleanor's love, but the system made it clear - only with a happy ending could I return to the real world.

Reluctantly, I decided to spill the beans to Clayton.

Hearing what I said, Clayton was visibly shaken, "What did you say?"

"Valerie's doctor, Dr. Shawn Webb, is completely devoted to her. He couldn't resist her pleas and forged her medical records. If you don't believe me, get a second opinion from another doctor."

Since I had already revealed so much, I decided to lay it all out. I looked up at Clayton, "Eleanor is pregnant with your child. If you continue forcing her to give blood and marrow, it will be fatal for both her and the baby."

"Impossible!"

Clayton's face contorted in rage. It took him a moment to compose himself. Abruptly, he grabbed my arm, his eyes bloodshot, glaring at me, "If you dare lie to me, I'll make you wish you were dead!"

With that, he stormed off.

I didn't know if Clayton went to find Eleanor or Valerie, but at least I had some peace for now. Just as I was about to step out for some fresh air, I was stopped by a bodyguard.

The bodyguard didn't break down the door, but emotionlessly conveyed Clayton's order. "Miss Morgan, without Mr. Blackwood's permission, you are not to leave the house."

Am I under house arrest?

Typical of domineering CEO stories, stuck in a feudal mindset, utterly devoid of any legal consciousness.

I picked up my phone, hesitating whether to call the police, when the bodyguard's phone rang first. Then, he respectfully said, "Miss Morgan, the president requests your presence."

That was quick, I'll give it to him.

Clayton Blackwood truly exemplifies a domineering CEO, especially in his ability to act swiftly and decisively.

Anticipating my return to the real world soon, I couldn't hide the excitement on my face, and quickly followed the bodyguard into the car.

Yet, when we arrived at the hospital, the chaotic scene in front of me was astonishing.

Clayton sat authoritatively at the head, a row of people lined up in front of him.

A quick scan from left to right revealed Eleanor, the female lead; Zack Morris, the secondary male lead; Valerie White, the villain; and her faithful sidekick, Dr. Shawn Webb.

The whole crew was present, not a single one missing.

"Clayton, please believe me, I thought I was really sick. Who would fake such a thing to frame someone else?"

Valerie White was on her knees, crying pitifully in front of Clayton, as if she would swear on her life she never intended to hurt Eleanor.

Dr. Shawn Webb, ever the loyal lackey, couldn't bear to see Valerie distressed and insisted the misdiagnosis was his fault alone, absolving Valerie of any wrongdoing.

"Miss White, are you telling me you can't tell if you're sick or not? What are you, an idiot?"

Disgusted by the schemer and her sycophant, I couldn't resist a jab at Valerie, then turned my attention to Shawn.

"Dr. Webb, if you can't diagnose such a basic illness, you really shouldn't be a doctor. Maybe selling sweet potatoes is more your speed."

These two were nothing but toxic obstacles on the path of the main characters' romance.

Although their schemes were exposed for now, who knows when they might try again. To ensure a stable happy ending for the leads, I pressed on to ensure these villains were thoroughly dealt with.

Clayton was previously blinded by his past friendship with Valerie, but he was no fool. At my prompting, he coolly gestured with his hand.

In an instant, bodyguards stepped up, took hold of Valerie White and Shawn, and escorted them out.