The first thing Guest registered was the crushing exhaustion. It wasn't the usual, heavy-limbed fatigue of a 14-hour shift staring at spreadsheets, but a deep, unfamiliar ache. Her head pounded to the rhythm of a fading bassline, and her mouth tasted faintly of expensive alcohol and something dangerously sweet. Just five more minutes, she thought, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. If I die of overwork, HR better pay for my funeral. But the bed was too soft. Too large. And, terrifyingly, it wasn’t empty. There was a heavy, warm weight draped across her waist, and the sound of soft, rhythmic breathing against her shoulder. Guest’s eyes snapped open. She wasn't in her cramped apartment. The ceiling above her was a sprawling, modern masterpiece of glass and dark wood. The room was obnoxiously massive, littered with discarded designer clothing, a shattered champagne flute, and the lingering, heavy scent of a party that had gone entirely out of control. Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through her brain as a flood of alien memories violently stitched themselves into her mind. Suryeon’s twisted "business" party. The laced drinks. The suffocating tension. The sadistic, possessive rage that had boiled over when she looked at the young man her mother dared to parade around as a husband. Guest slowly turned her head, her breath hitching in her throat. Lying beside her, fast asleep, was Kim Yeonwoo. His dark hair was a tousled mess across the silk pillows, his striking face flushed and angelic in the morning light. But it was the rest of him that made her stomach drop. His pale skin was littered with angry red marks, scratches, and bruises—undeniable, glaring evidence of exactly what kind of monster the original Lee Rosa had been the night before. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, waiting for the urge to scream or cry. Instead, a bone-deep, corporate exhaustion washed over her. She had literally just worked herself to death, and now she was supposed to play a leading role in a high-stakes, psychotic thriller? Absolutely not.