Lilian stayed in the hospital all day. She could not take it anymore.
"This cannot be real."
Rain poured and pattered against the roof of the hospital.
She got off the floor and approached the opened window. The breeze fluttered the tips of her black hair, her breathing chilly. Her gaze stayed fixated upon the sky for a moment before she suddenly murmured, "Wait a minute. I could also just be hallucinating. I've heard stress causes hallucinations, and I have been very stressed lately. That must be it!"
Her eyes lit up. "If this is a dream, let me wake up. And if this is real…"
"...May lightning strike me down."
Thunder rumbled in the sky. She was startled, bouncing aside on her feet. "What the heck?" She looked to the sky, watching the already gloomy clouds congeal even further with unfallen rain.
"Eh? Eh? Eh? What the–"
A bolt of lightning coursed through the air, traveling all the way toward the hospital building. It evaded everything in its way as if clever and went directly through the window, striking down its target.
PAH!
Lilian sizzled and convulsed. Her body straightened unnaturally, and she fell backward to the floor, hitting her head hard. She lost consciousness instantly.
By the time she woke up, it was evening. She had been transferred onto the bed. One of the nurses had luckily found her unconscious. She stared at the ceiling and abruptly smiled forcefully to herself.
"Okay!... I've got the memo."
She was eventually discharged and returned home to the manor where she lived with her husband, Caesar Stoman.
No one had come to pick her up from the hospital. She had no choice but to take a taxi.
Upon her return, she stopped at the double-doored entrance.
Tens of cars settled in the parking lot. Home staff all stood in a straight line at the entrance, and right at this moment, each and every one of them was bowed at the waist in greeting to her.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Stoman!"
Lilian walked into the manor. The interior was large. Just the foyer alone stretched by meters. A large, adored chandelier hung in the ceiling. But Lilian was filled with irritation.
"This is unbelievable," she mumbled to herself.
How could she find herself in the script of a useless, cliché TV show?
What about her original life? What exactly was happening there?
One of the maids who saw her standing silently in the middle of the foyer approached her. She bowed. "Young ms, how may I assist you?"
This middle-aged maid was familiar. Lilian remembered her from the hospital. She was the personal maid of this body.
"Just take me to my room. I feel so dizzy, I think I might just collapse."
The maid agreed. However, upon arriving at her room, Lilian was left completely baffled. "What is this?"
Not only was her room no more than a storage-cleared-out room. But it was in the basement.
"I mean… even if the marriage is atrocious, surely it is not to the point of sleeping in a place like this, right?"
The maid heard her speaking to herself. "Young Ms, Mr. Stoman believes you married him because of his family's background. That it was only for his money, and so you wanted to prove him otherwise. Because of that… you chose to… live like this."
"Oh?"
Lilian found herself amused. She threw her head back and laughed a little.
"So he thinks I'm a gold digger?"
"Young Ms…"
"Don't worry." She smiled at the maid. "Allow me to handle things myself."
"Handle things?"
But Lilian dismissed her. "You may go now."
The maid remained worried, but she obediently took her leave.
Lilian settled into the room. She changed into a pair of pajamas but did not sleep. Rather, she left the room and found her way upstairs to one of the many rooms in the manor.
This room belonged to someone specifically. And so, she did not bother to knock. She pushed the door ajar a little and poked her head inside. What she saw made her raise a brow.
"Oh, would you look at that?"
Caesar sat on a large white sofa, a working laptop placed on top of his lap. His hair was slightly wet but a clean tousled mess. He was in a pair of sleeping pants but shirtless, and he was working. There was nothing odd about that. However, upon his bed lay someone familiar.
It was his mistress. Vivian Aness.
By now, both had noticed her. Caesar raised a brow.
One would think she'd leave. Lilian, however, walked in with confidence. She slammed the door shut behind her and looked around the room.
"Heh, you really didn't mind me sleeping in the basement. You're truly heartless, Caesar."
"What are you doing here?" Vivian sat up on the bed.
Lilian threw her a look. "Was I talking to you?"
She whipped her hair and stormed over to Caesar. She bent down, looked into his working device, then met his gaze.
"Tell her to leave."
Caesar's expression was ice cold. "What nonsense are you—"
"Shhhhh." Lilian pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him up. Then she leaned in to hover above him, lips close to his ears. "We're going to do something very fun tonight. Surely you don't want her to watch, do you?"
Caesar had frozen subconsciously.
Lilain pulled back. She ran her tongue over her teeth, gaze suggestive.
How could Vivian not understand what was happening? She quickly shot up from the bed and charged over. She glared at her. "What is the meaning of this, huh? This place is not for you!"
"Not for me?" Lilian lifted a brow. "But I'm his lawfully wedded wife. Who else is more entitled to be here if not me? You're the one trespassing, yet you chastise me? You should get out. What husband and wife do is not for your eyes."
While these two women bickered, Caesar found himself staring at Lilian. He had never been so confused. Just what is going on with this woman?
He had no time to find out, because all of a sudden, Lilain took off one of her house slippers.
Vivian startled back. Her cheek subconsciously stung.
"What do you think you're doing?" Caesar questioned, his deep voice rippling.
Lilian tilted her head towards him. "What do you think? Her cheek is still swollen. Maybe if I hit the other side, I'd be able to right my wrong. Right now, her face is uneven and it is humbly my fault. I just want to fix it by making it even. She'll be pretty then, don't you think?"
"You!" Vivian turned red on the spot. She nearly fainted from anger.
"What?" Lilian spread her hands innocently. "I am only being generous. If she does not want my generosity, she should take her leave."
"Who do you think you are to tell me to–"
"Leave."
"Huh?" Vivian turned her head.
"Go for now. Use the guest room." Caesar kept his device aside. He stood up to tower above both women. "I need to have a word with her."
"Caesar!" Vivian lost it. "What is wrong with you? Why are you–"
"Go," he ordered. In his tone, there was no room for discussion.
Though she was indignant, she had no choice but to take her leave. As soon as she did, Caesar snatched Lilian's wrist and spun her to face him. "What exactly are you doing? Husband and wife activities, do you think we'd ever…"
"Yes, yes, I get it," Lilian interrupted him with a taunting expression. "I'm also not interested."
Her eyes glided over his frame, from his taut chest down to his slender waist, where the V-line went into his pants. She smirked. "You may be hot and handsome, Caesar Stoman, I won't deny that. But I have seen even better. I have no interest in sleeping with you. Stay calm."
She snatched her wrist from his grip. As if she owned the room, she strutted toward the bed and bounced into it. Her arms curled behind her head, and she crossed her ankles, relaxing into this man's bed with feet wiggling back and forth.
Caesar stood. He peered at her. "You've seen better?"
"Uh huh. You heard me. Why? Surely you're not such a narcissist you think you're the hottest man in the world?"
For some reason, this conversation irritated Caesar. His face twitched as did the tips of his fingers.
Lilian further relaxed into the bed. A smile perched upon her lips, and she said, "I've come with an agreement."
"Agreement of what?" Caesar narrowed his eyes.
Her dark pupils shone. She grinned, "What you've always wanted, husband…"
"...Divorce!"