Part 1Beneath the Love Fool, The Career Supporter’s Script

At the peak of his success, Adrian Fidler asked me for a divorce.

But that was right when Seraphina Rowe, the love of his life, conspired with his biggest rival to gut his company and then vanished without a trace.

I didn’t leave. I stayed by his side for five long years.

Not for love.

I was bound to a "career supporter" script. My only way back to my own world was to help Adrian rebuild his empire.

The day his new company went public, Adrian stood on the balcony of the stock exchange and rang the opening bell, with Seraphina’s hand in his.

By the time he rushed home, I was already gone. My mission was complete. I had vanished from his life as completely as she once had.

And I’d taken all his money with me.

* * *

As Adrian’s company soared, so did my status among the city’s elite wives. They all envied me, certain I’d made the right bet.

Five years ago, we were the disaster couple of our social circle, with him doing everything in his power to force a divorce. But when his company collapsed and he was left broken and bankrupt, I was the one who stayed, playing the part of the devoted wife who helped him rise from the ashes.

Everyone said my perseverance had finally paid off.

But I knew something was wrong.

Adrian was in love again.

We knew each other too well. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I saw the signs. He used to come home on time every night. Lately, he’d sit in his car in the driveway, chain-smoking, a deep weariness etched on his face. When he finally came inside, he was silent.

I used to pick out all his clothes—a strict palette of black, white, and gray. Suddenly, he had his assistant buying them. He’d started wearing teal.

It was her favorite color. Seraphina’s.

And on her birthday, the lights in his office building stayed on all night.

I had a feeling, a cold certainty growing in my gut.

It all clicked into place today, at a university alumni event, when I saw her standing right in front of me.

Seraphina Rowe, smiling, holding out her hand as if she’d never betrayed him at all.

Adrian’s gaze was glacial. He didn't take her hand. But I felt his grip on my wrist tighten, his entire arm trembling slightly. Only I could feel the tremor of the earthquake she caused in him.

I kept my smile perfectly in place and patted the back of his hand.

"Seraphina," I said, my voice sweet but clear. "It's been five years since you stole the Fidler family's trade secrets and helped their rivals drive his company into the ground."

The words were an accusation for her, and a reminder for him.

No matter what he did in private, in public, we had to maintain appearances.

As if waking from a dream, Adrian wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me away from her.

That night, a video of Seraphina’s interview went viral.

The reporter asked why, after years of retirement, she had suddenly returned.

Seraphina looked into the camera, a picture of tragic beauty, tears streaming down her face.

"I was young and foolish," she whispered. "I hurt the man who loved me. Now, all I want is to win him back."

Her gaze was intense, personal. "Adrian, can you ever forgive me?"

A beautiful, disgraced movie star and a brilliant tech mogul. The story exploded.

Adrian was furious. He immediately called his PR team, demanding they issue a statement clarifying that he had no connection to Seraphina. I’d never seen him so emotional, his face flushed with a rage that was almost theatrical.

The PR head asked if they should sue Seraphina for defamation.

I watched Adrian, knowing what he would say. Sure enough, his eyes flickered. After a moment's hesitation, he shook his head.

"I just don't want to be associated with her," he explained to me later.

I smiled and nodded, mentally finishing his sentence: He was afraid a lawsuit would tarnish her precious career.

What a pair we were. Two schemers, each with our own secrets, politely refusing to expose the other. When we first married, I had loved him to the point of madness. Now, I watched his life like it was a television drama.

No one expected Seraphina to be so insane.

On the Bay Bridge, she swerved her car directly into our path. I was in the passenger seat.

If Adrian turned the wheel, we would be fine, but Seraphina’s car would smash through the guardrail and plunge into the sea. There would be no survivors.

If he didn’t, we’d all be hurt.

It was like he was in a trance. His eyes locked with hers across the rapidly closing distance. A twisted romance novel playing out in real-time.

It cast me as the villain.

Because I was the one screaming, slapping his arm, trying to wrench the steering wheel from his hands.

The world exploded in a screech of metal and shattering glass.

Dazed, Adrian stumbled out of our wrecked car and staggered towards hers, his hands shaking as he checked on her.

Seraphina, a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth, leaned against his chest. She looked past him, met my eyes, and smirked.

I win again, Thea, she mouthed.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to pull myself from the wreckage, a heavy, pulling pain low in my belly.

"Adrian... help me..." I called out weakly.

He snapped back to reality and rushed over, scooping me into his arms.

My consciousness began to fade. In the wail of the ambulance siren, I vaguely heard him calling me his wife, over and over, begging me not to die. I felt the warmth of his tears on my forehead.

So cliché, I thought, and scoffed.

When I woke up, I was greeted with two pieces of news.

First, I was two months pregnant.

Second, the System informed me that Adrian’s comeback was 98% complete. I would be returning to my own world very soon.