Compared to humans, succubus and succubi were much more honest about who they were.

Honestly, I still couldn’t wrap my head around how my sister Naharel—had once turned into a love-struck fool.

Love? Marriage? Whether SHE were human or something far older… one wrong step and the fall was endless.

“I’ll help you,” she said. “But under the old rules, I can only alter your appearance—never beyond your current CONDITION.”

“That’s enough,” I nodded. I knew even that much was already more than I could ask of her.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her gaze narrowing. “This look—you really think it’s enough to turn his head again? To pull him away from another woman?”

“I only get one shot at this, Arlenel. One transformation," she warned.

Naharel hesitated while studying my face with something between doubt and concern.

I could see what she was thinking. With a face like this—tired, faded, used up—only a desperate man would fall again. Meanwhile, the current Zack was no longer a desperate man.

“I’m sure.” The smile I gave her was steady, quiet and sure. There was steel behind it.

I knew what I had to do. First thing: finding the owner of that earring. Stella Nagle.

Stella was beautiful—no denying that. The top saleswoman at Velissare. The kind of woman who knew how to use her looks and never apologized for it.

In the Sneaky Affairs Club, she wasn’t just Zack’s fling. She was his trophy. His proof that he still had it.

The moment Stella saw me, she knew. Recognition flashed in her eyes like lightning.

"Hi there, I’m here for a return." I gave her a composed polite smile and opened the box I was holding.

Stella's customer-service smile cracked instantly. Inside, nestled in velvet, was the earring I’d pulled off Zack’s tie. It was her earring.

Now, it was game on.

“Ah, so you finally figured out.” Stella glared at me.

Just as quickly, a smirk crept into her cool, confident, smug expression.

“Honestly, if it weren’t for me, you would’ve stayed blissfully ignorant for the rest of your life. You should be thanking me.” She tilted her head, her tone soaked in faux empathy. “At least now you know your sweet little husband’s been cheating.”

Stella didn't stop there.

“A woman should really learn to love herself. Survival of the fittest, don't you agree? Hate to say it, but… you’re kind of obsolete.”

She said it all while staring down at me, her youth radiating like a weapon she knew exactly how to use.

“I mean, do you always chase what belongs to someone else?” she taunted even further. Her predatory smile widened.

“Ms. Naharel—” Stella said, mistaking me for my sister, “—I’m younger. I’ve got the kind of assets you lost years ago.

She leaned in, voice dripping with mock kindness. "Face it, your value’s tanking. Every year, you’re worth less. But me? I’m what men want. I’m an investment.”

“Did you even know? Your husband’s not just some mid-level office guy—he’s the general manager in his company. You think someone like you is worth that kind of man?”

“If you were smart, you’d step aside now. Quietly. With dignity.”

This woman... So young. So sure of herself.

“Is that so?” I looked at her without backing down.

In the world I came from, Stella's beauty didn’t even qualify as low-tier. In the world of succubi, seducing men with just a pretty face was the most primitive trick in the book.

It was the method of those who had nothing else to offer. Stella really had no idea who she was playing with.

"Ms. Nagle, what exactly makes you so sure of yourself?"

"Please, Ms. Naharel, I’m ten years younger than you. That is my advantage." She said it with the kind of smugness only someone very young—or very naive—could pull off.

I looked at her and a flicker of amusement passed through my eyes.

The law of the succubus race stated that if I wanted my powers and identity back, I must do one thing: I had to win back the man who betrayed me. Make him betray his chosen lover.

That was the test I need to go through.

"No wonder you believe the things a man like that tells you," I said, voice cool.

In truth, I could see myself ten years ago through Stella. The same wide-eyed certainty. The same blind trust in someone who didn’t deserve it.

"You’re just dreaming, sweetheart," I continued.

Ten years changes a lot. Not just me. Zack, too.

I glanced past Stella and smiled as a shadow appeared behind her. "Well, if it isn’t my husband. What a coincidence."

Zack froze. "Arlene… I thought you were at the parent-child event with Ted? What are you doing here—"

His voice wavered just slightly. Just enough.

"Didn’t I mention it last time? I said I wanted to get a new bag." I gave him the same calm smile I’d given Stella a moment before. "This old one’s been with me for years. Figured it was finally time for an upgrade."

I turned my eyes to Stella. She had became much silent compared to moments before.

"Got anything you’d recommend?" My smile stayed sweet. But there was something sharp behind it now.

This wasn’t just shopping. This was war and I was just getting started.

“Ma’am, you really came at just the right time today,” Stella said, her voice smooth like polished glass.

“We just got in a brand-new piece—designed by a well-known international name. Everything about it, inside and out, is top-tier.”

She cast a glance at the worn leather bag slung over my arm. “That one’s… what, ten years old? Looks it. Outdated and probably falling apart on the inside by now.”

The dig wasn’t subtle. Neither was the look she gave me when she said it.

I followed her eyes to Zack. My smile didn’t falter, but a flash of mockery passed behind it. Of course. Stella wasn’t just talking about the bag.

As she brushed past Zack, she made sure to graze his arm—lightly, intentionally. In return, he stiffened. Awkward. Caught.

I, of course, noticed all of that.

“Oh?” I tilted my head innocently. “Well, personally, I still prefer the older designs.”

My gaze settled on a classic piece displayed just behind her and I smiled.

“Luxury fashion is funny that way. The newer something is, the faster it goes out of style. But the classics? They might show their age, but their value holds. Always.”

Stella’s jaw tensed. She looked at Zack, eyes sharp.

“Sir, what do you think?” she asked, forcing sweetness back into her tone.

Zack hesitated, glanced at the price tag hanging from the new model—nearly triple the cost. I could see the calculations flickering across his face.

“Honey, I think the new one’s better,” he said after a beat. “The old one’s outdated anyway. Try something different for once. And hey, once I’ve got more money, we can get you anything you want—no big deal.”

I turned to Stella, ran a hand through my hair and smiled like I had all the time in the world.

“Then we’ll take the new one. If you don’t mind, Ms. Nagle, could you wrap it up for us?”

The look in her eyes? Ah, how satisfying.

This game was far from over.

There was a flicker of jealousy in Stella’s eyes and that bag wasn’t cheap.

Her looks said it all. This damn woman—once Zack divorced her, everything would belong to her, not his wife. All of it. It was only a matter of time.

In the passenger seat, I glanced at the rearview mirror. So, someone had adjusted it. My eyes shifted to the floor, where a lipstick cap lay forgotten.

Bright red. Not my shade.

My brow furrowed.

Zack must’ve noticed, because I caught a flicker of something in his expression. Worry, maybe. Or calculation.

He was up for a promotion soon—Vice President of the entire company. One whisper of an affair, one hint of a messy divorce and it could all crash down around him.

Stella was getting reckless. Too impatient.

I turned to him, voice light, but edged with something sharper.

"That bag wasn’t cheap, was it? Probably worth a few months of our living expenses. And you just bought it… like that?"

Zack forced a smile. There was a pinch of pain in his eyes—maybe from the price tag, or maybe from the pressure closing in.

"You’re worth it, babe. Everything you do for our family, I see it. A bag is nothing." He continued, "If you wanted the stars, I’d climb up there myself and pull them down for you."

He reached for my hand as if that would seal the sincerity. "From now on, there’ll be more—more of everything. You deserve the best."

He paused, gave me that guilt-laced look he wore so well. "I know I haven’t been paying you enough attention lately."

I nodded slowly, looking out the window. Smiling silently. Because I didn't really care about the bag.

Zack was right about one thing, though, I did deserve the best. He just had no idea what that really meant.

Zack kept talking, spilling out sweet nothings like he was reciting from a script he'd rehearsed a hundred times. His voice was warm, his smile soft. Anyone watching would’ve said he was the perfect husband.

And maybe he was—if they measured perfection in lies told with a straight face.

Turns out, the most seductive thing wasn't beauty or charm. It was a man who could sell a dream so-damn-well, that you would began thanking him for it. Little did you know, he was ready to pull the rug out from under you.

***

The next morning, I went to the bank.

Just like I suspected, after checking the statements, I saw it—another quiet withdrawal. The exact amount as the bag he “bought” me the day before.

He used my money… to buy me a gift. Then made me feel lucky for it.

A move straight from that damn cheating group he was in—the one where they traded tips like it was a poker game.

I felt the cold burn behind my eyes but kept my expression steady. No sudden moves. No alarm bells.

So, I took the bag and headed to a pawn shop. The owner looked at it, then back at me, visibly uncomfortable.

"I’m sorry, ma’am. This… it’s not real. Can’t pawn it."

So, it was a fake. Even the bag was a lie.

This marriage had become a hollow shell—nothing but a performance. A slow, practiced con, where both sides were now pretending not to notice the other’s act.

***

Across town, Stella was admiring her own new prize. The same model. Only hers was real.

She clutched the bag like it was love itself, smiling as Zack whispered in her ear.

"Don’t be mad, baby. You know I’ve been climbing at work—this is a critical moment for me. But you… you’re the one I really care about."

"That woman at home? She doesn’t hold a candle to you. My heart—and my money—it’s all gonna be yours in the end anyway."

Younger women were harder to manage... at least, that’s what men liked to think. They also thought if anyone could make her believe every dime was spent on her, made her feel like she was the center of your world… she’d fall just the same.

That evening, I helped Zack out in his beloved Sneaky Affairs Club chat group.

He didn’t realize that I was helping, of course—I was the one responding for him, sharing his so-called “tips” and answering other members’ questions like a seasoned pro.

Because really, what he was thinking... I knew better than he did.

[Damn, that’s why you’re the boss. Straight to the point.]

[The legend’s back! I thought she retired for good!]

[Word is, every guy who learned from the Minister shot straight to the top.]

The chat lit up, admiration flooding in like it always had.

Zack had been playing the role of group leader for years, spouting recycled tricks like he invented them.

But he’d clearly forgotten.

The true legend was never him.

I smiled to myself and turned off the screen, just as a new friend request slid into my inbox.

Right on cue. The bait had been taken.