Chapter 1Only The Mother Knew The Script

I had just wrapped an international merger deal, and the jet lag felt like lead in my bones as I dragged my suitcase into the foyer. That’s when I saw them: a pair of men’s sneakers that absolutely did not belong here.

Crisp, designer high-tops, a limited drop, and definitely not a small size.

They were tossed carelessly by the door, a silent, arrogant declaration of the intruder’s presence.

Almost instantly, the semi-transparent, relentless torrent of text that only I could see—The Feed—began to scroll across my vision.

【HOLY SHIT! The forced-love scene is finally here! Tristan’s making his move!】

【AHHHH! Tonight’s the night! Cook that rice, baby! Go, go, go!】

【Wait until that stuck-up mom gets home and loses it, LOL. Her daughter belongs to our Tristan now!】

I watched the words with an expressionless face. They swarmed like a cloud of buzzing, bloodthirsty gnats directly on my retina.

* * *

My name is Delaney Stone. I’m a commercial litigator, known for my ruthless precision in the courtroom, and a single mother.

Three days ago, I woke up.

I realized I was trapped inside a toxic young adult novel titled The Exclusive Obsession of the Campus Psychopath.

My role? The villainous mother, Delaney, who tries to keep the main characters apart, only to be utterly destroyed—her life ruined, her daughter’s future devastated, and finally, herself dying wretchedly in a psychiatric facility—by the "blackened" male lead.

My daughter, Maya, is the tragic heroine. She would be kidnapped, tormented, and eventually develop severe Stockholm Syndrome, mistaking her captivity and trauma for "undying love."

And the owner of the shoes by the door, Tristan Kael, was the male lead—the so-called "beautiful, powerful, and tragic" hero.

A maniac who packaged stalking, harassment, and violent coercion as deep affection, and who romanticized his own obsession and possessiveness as salvation.

I lifted my gaze toward my daughter’s tightly closed bedroom door. Faintly, I could hear muffled sobs and a boy’s impatient, low attempts at persuasion.

The Feed kept scrolling.

【Don’t cry, Maya! Tristan loves you so much! Your mom is such a puritan, what does she know about real love?】

【Seriously, this mom needs to just die and stop getting in the way of our ship!】

【Hurry up, hurry up! I can’t wait for the forced-love payoff!】

I silently set down my suitcase, kicked off my high heels, and walked toward the kitchen, my bare feet sinking into the carpet.

I didn't call 911.

I didn't call building security.

Against a rabid dog that skirts the edge of the law, conventional methods only serve to excite them further.

From the utensil block, I took the weapon I’d bought specifically for processing large cuts of meat: a heavy-duty, razor-sharp bone cleaver.

The blade glinted under the recessed lights, cold and unforgiving.

The Feed seemed to sense the shift. It paused for a brief, shuddering moment.

【??? What is the mom doing? Is she grabbing a knife?】

【That’s not in the script! She’s supposed to be pounding on the door and begging the ML to let her daughter go!】

【Whoa, wait a second. Something is off. Her eyes look insane.】

I ignored them. I walked, step by calculated step, to Maya’s bedroom door.

It was locked from the inside.

“BOOM!”

I lifted my foot and drove it, with all the focused force of a trained athlete, into the door right next to the lockset.

The solid-core wooden door shuddered violently.

The sounds from inside ceased immediately.

“Who the hell is that!” Tristan’s voice, sharp with alarm and irritation, cut through the silence.

The Feed exploded.

【WTF! She kicked the door?! This mom is unhinged!】

【Spicy! Is the plot twisting?! Author, get your ass in here!】

I offered no response. I simply stepped back, focused, and drove my heel into the same spot.

“CRACK!”

The second impact. A spiderweb of cracks formed in the wood around the shattered lock housing.

“SMASH!”

The third.

The lock assembly disintegrated with a wrenching sound, and the door flew inward, slamming against the wall.

The scene inside was instantly exposed.

My daughter, Maya, was huddled on the corner of her bed, her school blouse torn open at the shoulder, tears streaming down her pale face. She was trembling uncontrollably.

Tristan, the boy The Feed worshiped as the "God-Tier Campus King," was straddling her, one hand pinning her wrist, the other reaching for a button on her top.

He was clearly stunned by the sudden violence. He froze, his body rigid, and turned his head to stare at me, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The-Feed-was-in-ecstasy.

【OMG, that position! Tristan is so Alpha!】

【The mom’s arrival is perfect! Let her watch her daughter become his!】

【Hurry, Tristan! Do it right now! That’ll really piss off the old hag!】

Tristan recognized me. The shock on his face rapidly curdled into a mix of contempt and aggressive provocation. He even managed a playful, wicked grin, leaning down to Maya’s ear and speaking just loud enough for me to hear.

“Look, Maya. Mommy’s home. Should we… continue what we started, right here, in front of her?”

Maya’s trembling intensified. Tears spilled onto her cheeks.

“You… let go of me…”

“Let go of you?” Tristan scoffed, his gaze locked on mine in a pure act of defiance. “Look, Ma’am—don’t blame me. Maya and I are soulmates. You’re the one trying to tear us apart.”

I looked at his face, flushed with adrenaline and dark excitement. I looked at the obscene comments scrolling before my eyes. Slowly, I raised the heavy cleaver in my hand.

“What was that?” My voice was unnervingly quiet. “It’s loud in here. I didn’t quite catch that.”

I aimed the blade directly at him.

Tristan’s pupils constricted.

He probably thought I was bluffing. The Feed did, too.

【What’s she doing? A middle-aged woman with a cleaver thinks she’s some kind of action star?】

【LOL. Does she really think she can touch a hair on our Tristan’s head?】

The very next second, I moved.

I didn't charge him. I simply whipped my wrist, putting every ounce of my body weight into the throw, sending the heavy bone cleaver flying.

The blade cut a terrifying arc through the air, whooshing with the speed of its passage. Its target was not Tristan, but the heavy wrought-iron and crystal fixture directly above his head.

“CLANG!”

A deafening, metallic snap.

The fixture's main chain was precisely severed.

The massive chandelier, dragging countless glass shards and wires, CRASHED!

Tristan reacted on pure instinct, rolling off the bed and scrambling sideways, narrowly evading the impact.

But Maya, pinned beneath him, was not so lucky.

I would never hurt my daughter.

In the instant the chandelier fell, I shot forward, grabbed the paralyzed Maya off the bed, and pulled her tight against me, shielding her body with my own.

“KABOOM!”

The crystal light fixture obliterated the mattress, turning the soft bed into a chaos of pulverized glass, twisted metal, and springs.

Several shards of glass sliced Tristan’s cheek and arm, leaving bright red trails.

He stared, dumbfounded, at the wreckage. If he had been half a second slower, he would have been crushed.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence.

The Feed stopped entirely.

After a full five seconds, a single line of text appeared, shaky and hesitant.

【…she’s… she’s psychotic… this mom is a stone-cold lunatic…】

I held my daughter, who was still shaking violently, and stood up from the wreckage. My eyes, cold and assessing, settled on Tristan.

He was clutching his bleeding face, and for the first time, his expression was a raw mix of terror and disbelief.

“You…”

I cut him off. I walked over, picked up the largest shard of glass near his feet—its edge was sharp enough to reflect his ashen face.

I knelt down, and with that deadly piece of glass, I lightly tapped his cheek.

“Now,” I looked him directly in the eye, asking, word for word, “Can you hear me clearly?”

Tristan’s lips trembled. He stared at the shard of glass, which was easily capable of slitting his throat, and couldn't utter a single sound.

The contempt and swagger in his eyes had evaporated.

Only fear remained.

The pure, paralyzing fear one feels when confronted by a superior predator.