Chapter 1The Heart You Stole Is Dead

When I finally drifted back into consciousness, the world felt cold. Evie, the girl I had spent my entire life protecting, was drowning in a sea of corporate betrayal and public scandal. Worse, her heart was failing—a ticking clock that threatened to end her story before it truly began.

Then, a voice flickered in the back of my mind, cold and mechanical. “System online. Host, do you choose to save Evie Pierce?”

I didn’t hesitate. I never did when it came to her.

To save her life, I gave her my own heart. Or rather, I traded my healthy one for an experimental, mechanical replacement that left me a ghost of the man I used to be. While I was still recovering, I spent every waking hour—and every cent of my savings—building the empire she’d always dreamed of. I drank myself into stomach ulcers and internal bleeding at high-stakes galas just to secure the Series A funding that put her company on the map.

But on the night her company went public on the NYSE, Evie didn't stand by my side. Instead, she announced her engagement to Jasper Knight—the man who had shattered her heart years ago.

When I confronted her, heart heavy with a betrayal I couldn't breathe through, she just brushed me off. "It’s just a strategy, Adrian," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "I’m just playing him. I want him to feel exactly what I felt when he left."

But then my mechanical heart began to fail. I needed a second surgery, a desperate fix. And as I lay outside the operating room, I heard her hushed, frigid command to the surgeon: "Don't prioritize him. Let him go. Once he’s gone, his kidneys will be a perfect match for Jasper."

* * *

I stared at the peeling paint on the hospital ceiling, my breath so thin it barely fogged the oxygen mask. The room was old, crumbling at the edges, much like my own body.

“Connection levels dropping below 30%. Mission failure imminent.”

My dry, cracked lips twitched into a phantom of a smirk. Failure? No, this wasn't a drop. This was a total collapse.

I remembered two months ago. Her "affection meter"—or whatever the hell this voice in my head called it—had been at 98%. I had spent eight years of my life, minute by minute, sacrifice by sacrifice, building that number. I actually thought she loved me.

I guess I was the only one buying into the lie.

“Host is urged to re-engage. Failure results in permanent cessation of life.”

The mechanical voice was as indifferent as the woman standing in the hallway.

"How much longer does he have?" I heard Evie ask. Her voice was low, clinical.

"At least a month, if we manage the symptoms," the doctor replied.

I closed my eyes, a bitter laugh rattling in my chest. She was already calculating my expiration date. She wasn't looking for a miracle; she was looking for a timeline.

"Fine," Evie said. "Keep him stable. Don't waste the premium meds on him. We need to save the resources."

I whispered into the void of my mind, “Can I end this? I don’t want to play anymore.”

The voice paused, a rare glitch in its processing. “Option available. Do you wish to terminate the mission?”

The suffocating weight that had been crushing my lungs for years finally lifted. I actually smiled. "End it," I rasped.

“Termination request accepted. Seven-day countdown to cessation begins now.”

The moment the words echoed in my skull, a metallic sweetness flooded my throat. I coughed, a violent spray of crimson blooming across the pristine white duvet. The heart monitor beside me began to shriek, a high-pitched alarm that tore through the silence of the ward.

Through the haze, the door burst open. Evie rushed in, her face a mask of panicked concern. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes wide.

"Doctor! Get in here!" she screamed, playing the part of the grieving, devoted partner to perfection.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, watching her. It was strange. Even now, at the very end, she still looked like the girl I’d loved since we were kids. But as the darkness pulled at the edges of my vision, I realized her panic wasn't for me. It was for the donor she wasn't finished with yet.

I let go. The world went black.

When I woke up again, Evie was nowhere to be found. Two nurses were quietly moving around the room.

"The guy in the VIP wing is so lucky," one whispered, her voice tinged with envy. "Just a bit of a stomach ache and his girlfriend is losing her mind."

"You don't know who that is?" the other replied. "That’s Evie Pierce. The tech mogul. She’s been at his bedside for twenty-four hours, hand-feeding him soup. It's like something out of a movie."

I licked my lips, the simple movement sent a jolt of pain through my throat.

My mind drifted back. I remembered the nights I’d spent vomiting blood after business dinners I attended in her place. She’d stand by the bed, tossing a pack of over-the-counter pills onto the nightstand.

"I ordered some meds on UberEats, Adrian. Just hang in there. This contract is too important for me to miss the meeting."

The memories were like glass shards in my brain. The questions I had spent years suppressed suddenly began to cut deep. It wasn't that her love had faded. It was that it had never existed.

I wasn't from this world. I’d died in another life and ended up here, reborn into this story with no memory of my past until the "System" woke up. I’d fallen for Evie because she was the girl next door who had "saved" me from bullies when we were kids. I was just a foster kid living with a distant aunt, and she was the sun I orbited.

When her parents died and her family's company was gutted, she was the one dying in a hospital bed. That was when the System kicked in, telling me I could save her. I thought my devotion would be enough. I thought if I gave everything, I’d get a sliver of her heart in return.

The door creaked open. Evie walked in carrying a thermos.

"Adrian? You're awake."

She set the thermos down and reached out, pressing her palm to my forehead. "You've still got a fever. Why aren't you resting?"

I looked at her. It was the same face, but she felt like a stranger.

She took my hand, her eyes rimmed with red. "You were out for a day and a night. You scared me to death."

For a second, a tiny, pathetic part of me wanted to believe her. Maybe she wasn't that heartless.

"The doctors said there isn't a compatible mechanical heart available for the swap yet," she said softly, her voice dripping with artificial sympathy. "You just have to wait a little longer."

I stared into her eyes. They were beautiful, filled with a mimicry of worry. But I knew the truth. A high-end replacement was a phone call away for someone with her net worth. She wasn't waiting for a heart. She was waiting for me to die so she could harvest what was left of me for Jasper.

Her phone buzzed. she glanced at it, and immediately started to stand up.

"Can you stay?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Just for a bit. My chest... it hurts."

She froze. She didn't even look up from her screen as she typed a reply. When she finally turned to me, the mask slipped. The impatience in her eyes was sharp enough to draw blood.

"Adrian, don't be difficult. If it hurts, call the nurse. I have things to take care of. I’ll be back when I’m done."

The pain in my chest flared, sharper than any mechanical failure. She didn't notice. She was already halfway out the door.

What were those eight years? What was any of it?

Maybe it was just the lingering ghost of the man I used to be, but I couldn't stop myself from calling out one last time.

"Evie."

She stopped, her body already leaning toward the hallway. She looked back over her shoulder. "What?"

"Do you love me?"

She went still. A beat of silence stretched between us. Then, she spoke.

"Of course I do."

In my head, the mechanical voice chimed in, colder than ice:

“Warning. Connection level -10.”

I gripped the bedsheets until my knuckles turned white. Even her lies were starting to cost her.