Hurt Me All You Want, She'll Feel It

The System found me in my crappy studio apartment, halfway through a cup of instant ramen.

"Please. I'm begging you. We are desperately short on angst heroines right now."

Its robot voice sounded almost humble.

"Women today wise up way too fast. Eight out of ten heroines snap halfway through the book. Sixty percent chop the hero into tiny pieces. Another twenty percent team up with the other woman and take him out together. We can't get a single story to the ending!"

I slurped up the last of my noodles. "So why me?"

"Because nothing gets to you! Last year a car clipped you in a crosswalk, and while you were flying through the air, you were trying to figure out if that thing in the sky was a plastic bag or a balloon. That is exactly the kind of brain that survives an angst novel!"

I was pretty sure that was a dig at my girlboss credentials.

"What's the pay?"

"One hundred million dollars! Cash! After tax!"

Ramen broth shot out of my nose.

"Don't turn your nose up at it," the System added quickly. "Name one person in real life who'd hand you a hundred million."

Fair point. I could work overtime until I dropped dead and never see even a fraction of that.

"Deal." I wiped my mouth. "On one condition."

"Name it! As long as it doesn't mess with the main plot."

"Every bit of physical pain in this book goes to the other woman. You know, the sweet, innocent first love the hero can't get over."

Silence.

After a long beat, the robot voice came back. "Could you repeat that?"

"Heartbreak is fine. I can take heartbreak. Physical pain is a hard no. Not one ounce."

I counted on my fingers. "Blood draws, beatings, jumping off buildings, poison, miscarriage... Wait, does this book have a miscarriage? If it does, she gets that too. It'll still look like I'm the one suffering, so the plot doesn't change, right?"

The System ran the numbers for ten whole seconds.

"...Technically, no. The readers will still see you lying in a hospital bed, pale as a sheet."

"Then we're done here."

"But she might start acting a little strange when the pain hits."

"Even better. Screaming bloody murder for no reason? That's peak drama-queen behavior. Very on brand."

The System couldn't argue with that.

The next second, the world spun.

When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a bed big enough to fit five of me.

A man sat on the edge of it. He was unfairly handsome, with eyes as cold as the frozen chicken breasts I'd been hoarding in my freezer.

This was the hero. My brand-new husband, Sebastian Rhodes.

"Daisy Carrington, we may be married, but the only woman I love is Bianca. You're nothing but a business deal your family made."

Bianca. My stepsister, and the first love he'd never gotten over.

Textbook angst-hero line. He didn't even warm up first.

I blinked.

A business deal? Great. Business deals don't have to catch feelings.

But on the outside, I had a script to follow, and I had to sell it.

I let my eyes well up. My lips trembled. "I know... I've always known..."

"Good." He stood and tossed a black card onto the bed.

The door slammed behind him.

I shut off the tears, grabbed the card, and kissed it.

Then I flopped back on the mattress, arms and legs spread wide.

"Sys, when does the first round of suffering start? Let's move it along. I've got a hundred million to collect."

The System was quiet for two seconds.

"Tomorrow. Bianca's had a relapse, and she needs a blood transfusion." A pause. "And you're the only one around with her rare Rh-negative blood type."