I’ve been reincarnated into a novel and sold to the estate of Adrian, the tragic second male lead. In the original story, he was abused, betrayed, and left to die a hollow death.
Determined to rewrite his fate, I decide to be his first real friend. Step one: Win him over with food.
But it seems I’ve meddled with the plot a little too much.
“Don’t act like this is nothing,” Adrian whispers, his gaze darkening. “As if my feelings for you don’t even matter.”
The story is officially off the rails, and Adrian is no longer the man I remember.
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