The next day, the red‑haired man helped Riana find her way out of the forest.
“I want to go back to the orphanage in the Diares Kingdom,” she told him.
And he even helped her with that.
“If you ever remember anything… come find me. You must,” he said, clinging to hope until the very end.
And this is the guy who kills impostors?
What a shameless man—practically begging her to impersonate his lost love.
Shaking her head at the thought of the immortal redhead, Riana stepped back over the threshold of the orphanage.
“So, I’m back.”
There’s an old saying: Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
If everywhere is hell, I’d rather stay in the hell I know.
Besides, the story here hadn’t even started yet. Until then, this was the safest place in the world.
“…Sigh.”
And so Riana’s runaway adventure ended after just three days.
In those three days she had discovered the true nature of the world she’d been reborn into—and she set herself a firm goal: she would never, ever die as the villainess.
That’s why she treats having a crush as if it were a deadly disease.
Because in most stories, villainesses die because of their hopeless love for the male lead.
11 years later…
In a city farthest away from the Duke of Veloci’s territory where the orphanage was located—
Riana gazed out her office window at the bustling streets of the border town and felt strangely nostalgic.
I must be around the same age I was in my past life now, huh?
She studied her reflection in the glass.
Her once‑pink curls were gone. Her hair was now jet black, tied up tight.
Most noticeable of all was her bold, thick‑framed glasses—designed to distract people’s eyes so they wouldn’t look too closely at her own.
She was disguised so that no matter what kind of story she stumbled into, she could disappear without a trace. A fake ID sat ready in her pocket.
Turning back from the window, Riana folded her hands on the desk.
Across from her sat a client.
“Could you explain your request, ma’am?”
A businesslike smile—honed in 21st‑century Korea—lit her face.
“Please ruin my ex‑husband’s wedding. That’s my request.”
“Hm…”
Riana rubbed her chin, radiating the air of a competent fixer.
And she was one. Ever since opening her errands agency as soon as she became an adult, she’d built up a flawless 100% success rate over the past year.
Not that it was surprising—after all, wherever she went, she already knew the storylines from all those webtoons.
If you know the plot, no request is impossible.
But I’d better be careful not to trigger any villainess flags…
Her eyes narrowed at the woman in front of her.
Requests were always anonymous, but Riana had already recognized her. Those dazzling rainbow‑colored eyes weren’t common in this world.
The heroine herself, huh.
Getting involved with a heroine’s story was risky…
But—
“I’ll make sure you’re satisfied with the results.”
Money came first.
Riana pictured stacks of cash piled like a little island in the middle of the ocean.
Work hard until I can buy an island… That’s the goal!
Better that than being poisoned by a certain silver‑haired young master back home… or losing her head to that palmier‑stealing neighbor prince… or getting torn to pieces by that immortal stalker who’d waited 200 years for his first love.
Exiling myself to a deserted island and dying alone sounds like a blessing compared to that.
Riana beamed, her eyes curving like crescent moons.
Yes. At twenty‑one, Riana was saving up to buy a deserted island—to isolate herself completely from any storylines.
Luckily, her bold glasses hid the tears welling in her eyes.
Riana headed to the place the client had told her about—disguised even more thoroughly than before.
She put a big fake mole on her nose and wore a curly black wig that looked like instant‑noodle strands.
She arrived at a grand cathedral.
Through the stained glass, she could see a wedding in full swing.
The groom, looking slick in fine clothes, stood before the priest—a border marquis of this region, and a supporting male lead from a certain webtoon.
The guy who cheated on his arranged‑marriage wife, then actually went and married his mistress. Of course he regrets it later.
The woman who had been his mistress only yesterday was now walking down the aisle in a classic white dress.
She’s the ambitious villainess who wanted to bear the marquis’s son and rule the estate… if I remember right.
It was doomed from the start.
Still, they sure picked a gorgeous day—bright sun, gentle breeze.
Perfect weather for wrecking a wedding!
Riana adjusted her disguise glasses on her nose.
The wedding was in full swing, bathed in colorful light from the stained glass, accompanied by the grand music of the orchestra.
“…And with that, the vows are complete,” the cardinal said, drawing in a slow breath before the final words.
“If anyone opposes this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
Music stopped. Applause faded.
Silence filled the hall.
All that remained was for the bride and groom to kiss and seal their marriage.
The cardinal began to speak—
But someone beat him to it.
Bang!
The great wooden doors burst open with a slam.
Every guest turned in shock.
Framed by the bright light stood a woman, standing crookedly and shouting:
“Hey, you—!”
Then she charged down the aisle.
“—you rotten jerk!”
She aimed herself straight at the groom, and the guests could only gape in disbelief.
In the confusion, the woman swung her handbag at the groom and wailed:
“How could you do this to me?! Sure, I wasn’t your first mistress, or your second, or even your third—but your fourth! And you couldn’t even invite me to the wedding?!”
She clawed at her already messy hair, making herself look even wilder.
“But I came to bless your marriage! Why? Because I love you!”
Her cries were so raw and heartfelt that the groom actually started reflecting on his life…
…until he snapped back. Wait a second—he’d only ever juggled two women at a time, not four!
Flustered and furious, he shouted,
“What is the meaning of this?! Guards! Remove this madwoman at once!”
But before the guards could act, the woman pulled a ring from her pocket and held it high.
“Madwoman? Even after seeing this proof of love, you can still say that?”
Flash.
In the golden sunlight, the ring glittered—so bright that everyone could see the symbol of an earl’s family engraved on it.
“T‑that’s…!”
The groom went speechless, stunned by the sight of a family heirloom.
Neither he nor the bride thought to suspect his ex‑wife might have stolen it.
The guards started toward the woman—but the bride stepped in their way.
“Wait.”
Her eyes were already filled with distrust.
“Don’t tell me…”
Her gaze swept over the woman’s figure. She was thin overall, but her belly bulged slightly.
It wasn’t the infidelity that bothered the bride—she’d known he was that kind of man, and that was why he’d been tempted by her in the first place.
But if another woman was carrying the marquis’s first child, that changed everything.
Sensing the bride’s suspicion, the woman wiped at her eyes and stammered:
“N‑no! We did spend the night together, but there’s no child!”
So that little bump was just… belly fat?
The bride narrowed her eyes.
“You expect me to believe he handed you an heirloom with no child involved?”
“It’s a token of love! Why are you talking about children?!”
“…What?”
“You know as well as I do—he’s impotent!”
A beat of stunned silence. Then gasps and whispers rippled through the guests.
The groom clutched the back of his neck. Clearing his name was suddenly more urgent than throwing this woman out.
“No! It’s not true! I’ve never seen this woman in my life!”
But the woman shot back immediately,
“Oh really? Then how do I know about the mole on the back of your left thigh… and the one on your spine, near the seventh vertebra?”
The bride’s face went cold.
She had never been that intimate with the groom herself, so she didn’t know about the moles…
…but she had an uncanny sense for lies—and she knew he was lying.
