After my family went bankrupt, I swiped my brother's phone and sent a message calling a "Prince of the financial world" *Hubby*; the very next day, he showed up with fifty million and whisked my brother away. I thought that was the end of it, but then the Prince's sister, Luna, came knocking. She was my arch-nemesis in the entertainment industry—copying my outfits, my makeup, and even buying the exact same candy I ate. I later discovered that the suggestive messages sent from my brother's phone that night—the "Wifey" and "I love you" texts—had all been secretly forwarded to Luna by my brother. Now, Luna has bought off my mother with eighty million, tricked me into her car, and locked me in her villa. She kisses me, takes photos, and even rolled around on the floor with me, kissing for ten solid minutes during a live broadcast. Everyone is shipping us as a couple, but I swear I’m straight. Yet, for some reason, I’ve started using the same body wash as her, looking forward to her visits, and even feeling anxious whenever she gets angry. Stranger still, the relationship between my brother and that financial Prince seems to be far more complex than just being sworn enemies.
