After transmigrating into a CEO novel as the devoted female foil, I decided to give up on the powerful CEO, but Julian Sterling flew across the globe overnight and dragged me back to get engaged.

The usually gentle, refined man gripped my waist, a terrifying madness burning in his eyes.

"Georgia, you belong by my side. Forever," he declared.

I woke up one day and realized I was living inside a CEO romance novel—the kind of old-school Mary Sue story where the world would collapse if the main couple ever separated.

I was a minor supporting character meant to serve as the heroine's foil.

As a wealthy heiress, I was the definition of rich and beautiful. My parents doted on me, and my older brother—the future heir to the family fortune—shielded me from every storm.

Life should have been effortless, but in the original plot, I completely squandered this perfect hand of cards.

Julian Sterling, a few years older than me, was the undisputed hero of this story. He embodied every advantage a powerful CEO could have.

He was trained from childhood as the heir to the Sterling Empire, his presence and aura putting every flashy trust-fund kid to shame. Plus, he had the kind of chiseled face that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.

When my feelings were first blooming, it was impossible not to fall for a man like him. But there were always too many women around him, and to Julian, I was just a kid.

Those deep, captivating eyes looked at everyone else with intensity, but whenever they landed on me, it was like he was looking at the neighbor's child.

That was fine. A person could survive without love, but not without money. No matter how much I liked him, I refused to end up bankrupt and homeless like in those over-the-top melodramatic plots.

The first step to changing my fate was simple: stay far away from the main couple. My 20th birthday was just around the corner. After weighing my options, I decided to slip away right after the celebration.

The day of the party arrived quickly. Every year, my parents invited a crowd of prominent figures, and the Sterling family was naturally included.

In the past, I would have spent hours getting dolled up just to shine at the banquet and hopefully catch Julian's eye.

The girl in the mirror had flawless makeup, fair skin, doe eyes, and cherry lips radiating sweet charm. I looked, wondering how Julian could ever ruthlessly reject her.

Then again, he was saving his devotion for the heroine. To say I had completely let go would be a lie. If it were that easy, I would have done it long ago.

Julian walked toward me, holding a wine glass. That face never failed to make my heart skip a beat. If I were the queen, I'd probably neglect the entire kingdom just to look at him.

He carried himself with noble elegance and a refined complexion, yet he always seemed untouchable.

When our eyes met, I froze for a second and instinctively took a step back. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but a dark shadow seemed to flash across his eyes.

By the time I tried to get a better look, it was already gone.

"Georgia, happy birthday," he said with a smile, but an undercurrent of dangerous pressure rolled off him.

I forced a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Sterling."

I used to always insist on calling him "Julian," no matter how many times my parents scoldingly reminded me to use a formal title, as if that would somehow bring us closer.

But everything changed on my 18th birthday.

When the crowd had dispersed and the party had wound down, I had gathered my courage, tugged on his sleeve, and dragged him into the back garden.

To steady my nerves, I sneaked some wine and looked up at him with hazy, drunken eyes. Then, I stood on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck.

I would never forget the shift in him that night. His usual gentle, refined demeanor vanished, replaced by the ferocity of a wolf ready to tear me apart.

I leaned in instinctively for a kiss, but Julian simply turned his face away.

Slowly and deliberately, he pried my arms off his neck and frowned. "Stop fooling around, Georgia. You're drunk. Let's go back."

He took my hand and started dragging me with a force that was impossible to resist. That confession had drained every ounce of my courage; I could only follow him back like a defeated puppy, my eyes burning with humiliated tears.

Thinking back on that night made me duck my head even lower.

"Georgia, I..." Julian didn't get to finish before a loud voice interrupted us. "Georgia! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

"Chloe Sharpe, you absolute lifesaver!" I rejoiced inwardly.

I offered Julian a rushed, generic goodbye and bolted, pulling Chloe along with me. If I stayed in that suffocating atmosphere any longer, the next day's headlines would read, [Harrington Heiress Suffocated at Her Birthday Party.]

"Why were you hiding out with Julian again?" Chloe asked, nudging me as we walked. "You still like him? Go after him then. I'll support you all the way. Plus, it means one less person competing for my future husband."

"If only it were that easy," I sighed. "He's way out of my league. Tonight, I'm finding a hot guy to help me forget he even exists."

She blinked. "For real? Our princess is finally moving on?"

"Absolutely. You have no idea..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "Forget it."

"No idea about what? Look at you, getting all mysterious after a single day apart," she said, then brushed it off. "Well, I am taking you out to hunt for some eye candy. Wild or sweet, take your pick. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Why waste your youth on an uncrackable nut like Julian?"

I laughed. "Spoken like a true queen. Lead the way to your kingdom."

...

Even though my parents adored me, my upbringing had been strictly conservative. This was the first time I had ever stepped foot inside a bar. It felt both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Chloe boldly ordered a table full of alcohol. A moment later, a dozen escorts filed into the booth, naturally flanking me on both sides. Having never witnessed such a magnificent sight, my eyes went wide.

"Girl, try this fruit cocktail the owner mixed himself. Tonight, we drink until we drop!" Chloe cheered.

Suddenly surrounded by all these guys raising their glasses and competing for my attention, I felt completely out of my element.

"Try mine, my lady."

"No way. Try mine first."

"Alright, alright..." I laughed.

The colorful liquids swirled hypnotically under the pulsing strobe lights. No wonder they say the glittering world could blind a person.

After I took a sip from each of their glasses, my head began to spin, growing heavier by the second. Through the growing blur, I thought I saw Julian's stony face.

"Great, I'm so drunk I'm hallucinating," I thought, shaking my head violently.

It was useless; he was still there. Even in my delusions, he refused to leave me alone.

"Chloe, where did the wine go? Ah!" I slurred.

There was no more alcohol and no more handsome guys. Even Chloe had vanished.

Before I could process anything, the world spun, and I was lifted completely off the ground. A loud smack followed, instantly shattering the intimate nighttime atmosphere.

Pain shot through my backside, and Julian's voice cut through the haze.

"Georgia Harrington, you've got some nerve slipping out to a bar."

"Who are you? Let me down! Help!"

Realizing I was being carried, I sobered up a little and flailed wildly. My fists landed on the man's solid back; it felt like striking a brick wall.

My hands throbbed, my action earning another swat on my rear.

"Behave," he hissed.

The sheer volume of alcohol finally caught up to me, and my consciousness slipped into a deep, dark abyss.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was lying on a massive bed. Sitting right beside it was a man who looked exactly like Julian.

I stared at him for a long moment, realizing he wasn't making a single move.

"Heh, if this is a dream, then I can act freely," I muttered, pouncing on him. "Honey."

After 20 years of life, I finally had my first steamy dream. Excited, I straddled Julian's lap and traced the lines of his ridiculously perfect face with my fingertips before planting several eager kisses on his sculpted lips.

Before I could even get my fill, his large hands locked firmly around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. His deep, gravelly voice echoed right in my ear.

"Don't move."

It sounded strained, yet incredibly intoxicating.

"Why should I listen to you? I'm going to move whenever I want." I reached down to unbutton his shirt, only for my wrists to be caught in a sudden, tight grip.

That further convinced me this was a dream. He'd never be this rough with me in real life. I wiggled out of his hold and let my hands roam across his solid abs, completely unbothered.

"Georgia," he muttered, his voice dropping to a low, raw pitch.

"Hmm? Mmh..." My mouth was suddenly claimed in a fierce, demanding kiss.

The crisp scent of mint filled my senses, making me entirely lightheaded. His heavy arms gently laid me down on the mattress, and a hot, masculine weight pressed down over me.

"Don't regret this, sweetheart," he murmured.

Through a blur of rising heat and low, breathless growls, the night stretched on.

"Georgia... Georgia..."

...

Blinding sunlight forced my eyes open the next morning. I rubbed my throbbing forehead, only to find that my limbs ached even worse.

Suddenly, I was wide awake. When I tried to roll over, my entire body felt like it belonged to someone else.

Panic gripped my mind. "Oh, no. It wasn't a dream."

Trembling, I lifted the blanket. My bare body was covered in marks of all sizes, from head to toe.

"You're awake." A man in a bathrobe leaned against the wall, holding a cup of tea and looking at me tenderly.

"You... Why are you here?" I stammered.

"Who else did you expect? Those mediocre escorts you called? Ha!" The slight curve of his lips vanished, replaced by a dark flash of irritation.

"This is bad," I groaned inwardly. "I slept with the male lead. Am I going to die soon?"

Seeing my blank expression, Julian probably assumed I was traumatized. He crouched down by the bedside, his voice softening significantly. "Drink some hangover soup first. Does your head still hurt? Don't worry, I'll take full responsibility for you."

I blinked. "Wait, did I misremember the plot? Is this not actually a novel? Does that mean I can be with him without dying?"

The sudden buzz of the doorbell cut through my thoughts, followed by a voice.

"Mr. Sterling, I've brought the designer outfits you ordered."

Wrapped tightly in the comforter, I cautiously crept to the bedroom door and peeked out into the living room. A young woman in professional attire was smoothly wheeling in a garment rack.

She lifted her head, revealing a delicate, charming face.

"Is it her? The heroine?" I murmured.

As far as I could remember, the heroine was a young assistant.

Julian began sorting through the racks as if carefully evaluating the options. "See which one you like."

My eyes narrowed. "Who is she? Your new assistant? She's pretty."

"Yeah," Julian replied smoothly.

Of course, he thought so. In the male lead's eyes, the heroine was always the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Does this one look okay?" he asked, holding up a dress.

"Yeah, totally," I muttered.

This jerk could wait until he got his turn, crawling through a full-blown regret arc.

I grabbed the clothes, changed quickly, and prepared to bolt. But before I could even reach the front door, Julian caught my wrist and effortlessly scooped me up into his arms.

"Your body is sore," he said, staring down at me. "I'm driving you home."