The Billionaire's Discarded Bride Was Never His to Keep

The night before the wedding, my best friend Faith Curry suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me and begged.

"Tracey, I'm begging you. Give Harold Gilbert to me."

"I'm bound to a system. If I can't win him over, I'll die."

"I won't come between the two of you. All I'm asking is for you to give me the place of Mrs. Gilbert."

Before I could say a word to her pleading,

Harold had already moved in front of her, his expression set.

"Tracey, we can't just stand by and let Faith die."

"Tomorrow, we swap the bride for Faith. All right?"

"Don't worry, nothing will happen between us. You're the only one I'll ever love."

When I still said nothing, his face turned cold in an instant.

"Tracey, I've already promised Faith. Tomorrow the bride will be her. You'll explain it to everyone when the time comes."

Looking into those eyes that left no room for argument, I opened my mouth, and not a single word came out.

I never told him that I was bound to a system too.

Every time his love for me dropped by a point, my system could draw one point of fortune-luck from him.

Once his affection for me hit zero, I could unbind from him completely.

And then, I would have the power to bring my true love back to life.

...

The air in the room froze all at once.

When I still didn't speak, panic flickered in Harold's eyes,

but he pulled himself together fast.

He stepped forward and took my hand, his tone gentler now.

"Tracey, I know you can't accept this right now, but Faith is our good friend. We can't watch her die and do nothing."

"This wedding is just a formality. Later, I'll throw you a real one, just the two of us. How about that?"

Faith took a step forward too, pressing her palms together, her whole face pleading.

"Tracey, I'm begging you. Say yes."

"I swear I'll never cause trouble for the two of you again. I'll even help you keep an eye on Harold, all right?"

One second, two seconds, one minute, two minutes...

I stood there without moving, watching their ridiculous little performance.

Until Faith's expression stiffened, until her eyes brimmed with tears once more.

"Tracey, you... you won't?"

"I thought we were best friends. I thought you'd save me."

Faith cried until she could barely speak, but every word out of her mouth was an accusation aimed at me.

Harold couldn't bear to watch either. He pulled her behind him, his voice cold.

"Tracey Butler, in your eyes, is the bride's place really worth more than Faith's life?"

"Whether you agree or not, I'm going to save Faith. That's decided."

With that, he didn't spare me another glance. He simply took Faith by the hand and left.

The door shut tight, and the empty hall fell silent again.

Only after they'd vanished from sight did I ask quietly,

"System, did Harold's affection level drop?"

A faint mechanical female voice sounded in my head.

"Host, it has dropped by 5 points. Harold's current affection level is: 95."

Five points?

Just for not agreeing to that absurd request, he was displeased with me.

I suddenly remembered when I first got close to Harold.

To win his trust, I took a knife meant for him, bled all over the floor, spent half a year in the hospital.

And even then, his affection for me had only risen by five points.

Yet now, for Faith's sake, he'd forced me to step aside without a second thought.

My chest went tight and aching. I crushed the feeling down, turned, and started back.

I'd just gotten home when my phone rang, jangling and insistent.

It was Harold.

The moment I answered, his icy voice came through the line.

"Tracey Butler, you ruined the wedding gown. What is Faith supposed to wear tomorrow?"

"It wasn't me."

I bit back coldly, but on the other end Harold only grew angrier.

"You were the last one to leave today. Who else could it be?"

"Do you want Faith dead that badly?"

His voice was thick with disappointment.

My stomach clenched. I was about to say it wasn't me.

I didn't even know where that gown was kept, but the dull ache surged up in me again.

It hurt so much I couldn't get the words out, cold sweat breaking over me.

Harold took my silence for admission and hung up in a fury.

When I called back, all that was left was the dead busy tone.

He'd blocked me.

The phone slid weakly from my hand to the floor, the screen shattering to pieces.

Dazed, I bent down, and in my head the system's cold voice sounded.

"Host, target mission: Harold's affection level has dropped by 20 points. Harold's current affection level is: 75."

My fingers clenched tight, my eyes fixed on the number on the virtual screen,

and somehow, my chest loosened with relief.

Good. I'd been agonizing over whether or not to leave Harold.

Now I didn't have to think about it at all.