Episode 3 — "Wait… Is That Really Seraphina?"

...Episode 3 — "Wait… Is That Really Seraphina?"...

Written by the Author

Ariya had never worn such an expensive dress in her life.

She stared at her reflection — golden hair cascading over her shoulders, a deep emerald gown hugging her curves, and heels that could probably kill someone if she tripped wrong. She muttered under her breath, “Villainess or not, these rich people sure know how to dress.”

The butler had informed her that a luncheon was being held at the Mirza estate, and as one of the elite socialites, Seraphina West was expected to attend.

Ariya’s brain? Screaming. Her heart? Panic. Her decision? "Let’s wing it."

---

The moment she entered the garden party, all heads turned. Not because of her usual icy attitude or a dramatic entrance — but because she... smiled.

Smiled.

"Is that... Seraphina West?" one girl whispered behind her hand.

“No way. That must be a lookalike. The real Seraphina only smiles when she's about to ruin someone’s life.”

Another boy blinked rapidly, choking on his champagne. “She just complimented the waiter. And thanked him. Seraphina said ‘thank you.’ I’m calling the hospital.”

---

Ariya wandered around, greeting people, throwing out polite small talk like “The weather is lovely,” and “That dress suits you so well!”

She was trying her best to act "normal," but the crowd was watching her like she was a glitch in the matrix.

Just when she thought she’d survived the first wave of social torture, she came face to face with...

Meera.

The real female lead of the novel. Kind, quiet, and always dressed in soft pastel tones like she came out of a Pinterest board.

Ariya (as Seraphina) froze.

In the novel, this is where the villainess would usually insult Meera's dress, humiliate her for being from a middle-class background, and accuse her of trying to seduce Zayyan.

Instead…

“You look lovely today,” Ariya said with a small smile. “That shade of pink brings out your eyes.”

Everyone gasped.

Even Meera blinked. “Um… thank you?”

Silence. Tension.

And then…

A guy near the punch table dropped his glass. “The apocalypse is coming.”

---

Ariya tried to keep her cool as she moved toward the buffet table. “Okay, not dead yet,” she muttered to herself.

But before she could stab a shrimp skewer, a familiar cold voice froze her in place.

“You’re being unusually pleasant today.”

She turned. Of course.

Zayyan Mirza.

In his signature black suit, dark eyes unreadable, one brow slightly raised like he was dissecting her existence. He looked even more intimidating under the sun — like a vampire at a tea party.

Ariya gave him her most innocent smile. “What can I say? I’m trying something new. Personal growth.”

Zayyan stared at her in silence. Then said flatly, “Don’t touch the wine.”

“Why?” she asked.

“You’ll start acting like yourself again.”

---

Back in her room later that evening, Ariya flopped onto her bed and groaned.

“This world is insane. These people are insane. And I’m the one stuck playing a villain everyone thinks has been possessed.”

But then she remembered Rayan.

The second male lead. The one who was still alive... for now.

She sat up, determination rising in her chest.

“They can gossip all they want. I don’t care.”

She looked out the window, the moonlight hitting her face.