"Fine."
I nodded.
"Since her constitution is so delicate, let her have it."
"But Orson—remember this."
"Some positions, once surrendered, can never be reclaimed."
Orson's brow furrowed. He seemed to sense something beneath my words, but Willow's wheedling voice quickly pulled his attention away.
"Orson, baby, I want a big soaking tub in the master bath—one of those ones with massage jets..."
"Done! Whatever you want!"
I dragged my suitcase into the damp, windowless storage room.
The door clicked shut, sealing away their laughter.
[Deprivation Progress: 40%]
[Orson Gilbert's fortune is draining rapidly. Host, starting tonight, his sleep quality will plummet. Nightmares will plague him.]
I made up the narrow cot and lay down on the unforgiving boards.
"Perfect."
"Let him get acquainted with nightmares first. Consider it... preparation for his future."
Sometime past midnight, a blood-curdling scream tore through the ceiling above me.
I didn't bother getting up. Just rolled over and went back to sleep.
The next few days, the house descended into chaos.
Willow would shriek that the System was going to drain her blood. Then she'd wail that it was going to strike her blind.
Each episode required me to pay the price to appease it.
The sea-view villa under my name? Transferred to her.
Every piece of jewelry in the house? Draped over her body to "ward off disaster."
Orson agreed to all of it.
Until the day of our tenth wedding anniversary arrived.
The same day Orson had promised to throw Willow her "wedding of the century."
To build hype for his precious Willow, Orson booked out the city's most luxurious hotel. He even chartered a private jet to fly in fresh flowers from God knows where.
The guest list read like a who's who of the city's elite.
He'd invited dozens of media outlets. The whole thing was being livestreamed nationwide.
In the bridal suite.
Willow sat before the mirror in my wedding dress—altered to fit her smaller frame. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes glittering with greed and triumph.
"You see, sister?" She drew out the word like poison wrapped in silk. "Orson is so good to me."
"He said he'd bankrupt himself if that's what it took to save me."
"Do you think... he's fallen in love with me?"
I leaned against the wall, eyes on my phone.
Thirty minutes until the deprivation sequence completed.
"Perhaps." My voice was flat. "After all, he's already given up his brain for you. Why not his heart?"
Willow's face twisted. She was about to snap when Orson pushed through the door.
He wore a crisp white suit, radiating self-satisfaction.
When he spotted me, he faltered. His gaze skittered away for a moment before hardening into defiance.
"Renata. When the ceremony starts, you'll go up as the... the officiant. Say a few words."
He wanted me to officiate my own husband's wedding to his mistress?
"No." I didn't hesitate.
Orson's expression darkened.
"Renata! There are dozens of cameras out there—don't you dare humiliate me!"
"If Willow doesn't complete this task, the System will erase her! Can't you just think of it as saving a life? Is that so hard?"
"After today, I'll throw you an even bigger ceremony. Will that satisfy you?"
Willow materialized at his side, clinging to his arm, her eyes brimming with theatrical tears.
"Orson... does sister hate me?" Her voice quavered. "If she won't do it, I'll just... I'll just die. That's fine."
"The System said if I don't receive sister's blessing, I'll bleed from every orifice until I'm dead..."
Orson's face drained of color.
His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist—so hard the bones ground together.
"Renata! Have you lost all humanity? You'd rather watch her die?"
"I'm ordering you—get on that stage! Smile! Bless us!"
"Otherwise, get out of the Gilbert family—and get out of my company!"
Pain shot through my wrist where his fingers dug in.
I stared at the man before me, his face twisted into something monstrous.
Ten years of love. Ten years of devotion. In this moment, it all crumbled to ash.
[Stripping progress: 99%]
The countdown in my mind ticked down to its final minute.
Suddenly, I stopped struggling. I looked at him and let the brightest smile I'd worn in days spread across my face.
"Alright."
"Since you want my blessing so badly, I'll give it to you."
I wrenched my hand free and smoothed down my clothes.
"Let's go. The auspicious hour has arrived."
Orson froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily.
But he didn't dwell on it. He assumed I'd simply caved. With a cold snort, he took Willow's arm and walked out.
The grand hall blazed with light, flowers cascading from every surface.
Orson led Willow down the red carpet, basking in the crowd's applause and envious gazes.
I stood below the stage, watching.
[Stripping progress: 100%]
[Stripping complete. Orson Gilbert's "Richest Man" halo has been nullified.]
[Karmic backlash initiated.]
Just as Orson raised the microphone, ready to declare his "great love" for Willow to the world—
His phone erupted in a frenzy of vibrations.
