CHAPTER 433: CHAPTER 433: CHANGING THE PLOT

She shook her head gently. "You are not a burden, Mervick. And I can afford much more than that. Ten thousand a month? I could spend a hundred thousand if it meant keeping you safe."

His eyes widened, disbelief and confusion mixing together. "You... you’re serious?"

"Of course," Emily said with a smile. "Because you’re worth it."

He hesitated, his small lips trembling. "Then you should... adopt someone who can stay with you longer. I won’t live long. My heart... It’s weak."

Tears welled in Emily’s eyes. She reached out and cupped his cheek softly. "Maybe," she said in a trembling whisper, "that’s exactly why I want you with me. Because every moment you live will matter. Because you deserve love... not for how long you live, but for who you are."

For a long, fragile moment, Mervick simply stared at her. Then, slowly, his eyes filled with tears. His small hands clutched her sleeve, hesitant but seeking comfort.

Emily immediately broke into a radiant smile and pulled Mervick into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around his small shoulders as if she were afraid he might disappear if she let go.

Her eyes shone with sincerity and overflowing affection, the kind that left no room for doubt. Mervick, stunned for a moment, gently raised his trembling hands and hugged her back.

In that quiet moment, the anxiety in his heart loosened just a little.

When Emily finally released him, her expression was filled with determination.

She turned sharply toward the dean and spoke, "I would like to finalize all the adoption paperwork now. There’s no need to wait any further."

The dean, taken aback by the urgency and emotional certainty in Emily’s eyes, quickly nodded.

Though she had once assumed Emily was only casually interested, now she couldn’t help but wonder if Mervick was perhaps Emily’s biological child in secret.

After all, who would show this level of fierce tenderness unless there was deep love involved?

On the other side of town, however, the atmosphere was entirely different.

Eleanor stood in the hallway of her apartment complex, her expression twisted in pure exhaustion.

She genuinely felt like the universe... or more specifically, the system... was playing an elaborate joke on her.

’If Mateo hasn’t implanted a GPS tracker in my brain, I’ll eat my own shoes, she thought bitterly. How else does he always know where I am?’

Every time she opened her front door, like some cursed repetitive scenario, Mateo was standing there, without fail, holding a fresh bouquet of flowers, smiling as though sunlight lived behind his teeth.

And every single time, her blood boiled.

She didn’t want Mateo. Not now. Not ever.

She wanted Theodore, loyal, beautiful, responsible, dependable, and genuinely caring Theodore. But instead, life had handed her Mateo, a man made of every flaw she despised.

When she had complained about this to the system, hoping for some divine intervention, the system had the audacity to justify Mateo’s nonsense as part of his "wife-chasing arc."

According to the system, Mateo’s current actions were romantic. He was redeeming himself.

Eleanor had nearly screamed.

"This? This is wife-chasing?" she had pointed at Mateo in disbelief.

"He’s the one who destroyed my trust in the first place! He shattered it into a thousand pieces! And now he thinks showing up with flowers is going to magically glue it back together?"

The sheer absurdity made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

And what angered her even more was Mateo’s so-called "redemption arc."

He had somehow managed to get her reinstated into the university... something he clearly thought was some grand, noble gesture.

Hello? Did he forget that he was also the main reason she had been expelled to begin with?!

Even if she returned, her reputation was still tarnished.

Everyone would whisper behind her back, believing she was someone who blackmailed others into relationships.

Mateo had not cleared her name.

He had simply opened the back door and shoved her inside quietly, as though sweeping the scandal under the rug magically erased it.

If he really loved her, he would have confessed the truth publicly. He would have faced the consequences.

But no. He chose the easy way out.

His love was like a paper present, visible, but completely useless when it mattered.

Today, when Eleanor opened her apartment door, she saw Mateo again. His bright grin greeted her like an unwanted sunrise.

She almost punched him on sight.

Then her gaze dropped to the bouquet in his hand. Red roses.

And suddenly, her irritation found a beautiful outlet.

In the original novel, Mateo had brought red roses to Eleanor when he tried to win her back, completely unaware that red roses were Olivia’s favorite, not hers. And Eleanor had thrown them at his face in rage.

Perfect.

The moment Mateo held out the roses to her, pride blooming across his face, Eleanor snatched the bouquet from his hand. His expression instantly brightened; he genuinely thought this was progress.

’Finally, some progress... maybe in two to three days, she would even accept my confession! Sigh! Eleanor is the best! True is the saying woman in love is blind. A least she is forgiving me quickly!’

Before he could say a single word, Eleanor hurled the bouquet straight at his face with all her might.

The petals exploded across him like confetti.

Mateo stumbled backward, nearly falling. His eyes were wide with disbelief. ’How is she this strong?’ he thought. ’How did I get practically knocked over by flowers?!’

If Eleanor heard his inner panic, she would have almost laughed and answered that a woman who hates him will reply like this!

But instead, she pointed at the bouquet on the floor and snapped,

"These are Olivia’s favorites. Not mine. If you want to chase a girl who likes red roses, then go back to Olivia."

’And please do so,’ she added silently, ’so that I can live in peace and chase Theodore instead.’

As long as this piece of trash ends up with Olivia, then it would be like two birds with one stone. Olivia that b*tch will be taught a good lesson and Eleanor would feel that she had gotten justice for herself!

However, Mateo, being Mateo, misunderstood completely.

He blinked, then gave a heartbreakingly gentle smile. "I know, Eleanor. You’re upset. You’re jealous. But listen... Olivia may have been my first love, but you will be my last."

Eleanor nearly gagged.

’Being your last love? I would rather be no one at all.’

She took a deep breath, trying not to scream. "I don’t want to see you. Leave."

And with that, she slammed the door hard enough to shake the frame. Inside, she paced angrily.

’No... I need to do something I can’t end up with that trashy male lead, right? What should I do... what should I do?’

The system chimed in her ear, reminding her calmly:

[Please refrain from deviating from the original plot. Significant deviation will result in punishment.]

Eleanor froze.

Then she slowly smiled, a cold, sharp smile.

"So you can’t fix the plot bugs," she said, voice dripping sarcasm, "but you want to punish me for trying to survive the disaster you wrote?"

The system fell silent. Because she was right.

Mateo was supposed to chase her after three years, not now.

The storyline was already off-track, and none of the system’s so-called plot repairs were working. Yet somehow she was expected to follow the script perfectly?

Ridiculous.

"If this is your wife-chasing arc," Eleanor scoffed to the empty air, "then I don’t want any part of it."

She began pacing again. ’I need to leave or find a way for my own survival.’

Then an idea struck her.

In the original plot, Olivia was supposed to save a wealthy couple abroad, who would then adopt her and turn her into a rich heiress.

But Olivia was still here.

So Eleanor could take that opportunity instead.

Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and booked the earliest international flight.

The system chimed again:

[Warning: You are deviating from the original plot.]

"I. Don’t. Care," Eleanor snapped, eyes blazing. "Sometimes the only way to fix the plot is to break it first."

Silence.

Then... the system quieted completely.

Eleanor exhaled and grabbed her bag. She needed to leave quickly before Mateo realized. To throw him off, she left her apartment casually.

As expected, Mateo was waiting outside.

He jogged to her side. "Eleanor, where are you going?"

"Shopping," she replied flatly. "I need to improve my mood."

He brightened instantly, like a golden retriever being acknowledged.

’Perfect. He’d follow me like a dog on a string.’

She would drain him of every emotional, financial, and plot resource he possessed and then disappear.

They walked to Harmony Mall, a high-end, luxurious shopping complex. Eleanor paused outside the gleaming glass entrance, taking a breath.

A peaceful expression appeared in her eyes.

Because she knew: This was the first step toward reclaiming her life