June has read a lot of trashy romance novels. She has one-starred a lot of trashy romance novels. So when she dies face-down at her desk at nine at night and wakes up inside the worst one — as Lady Cassiana Ardent, the gorgeous, vicious villainess fated to be marched to the scaffold in Chapter Forty-Seven — she figures she has one advantage the original Cassiana never did.

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She's read the book. She knows every betrayal, every ballroom disaster, every beat of the plot herding her toward a very public execution.

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There's just one problem: knowing how a story ends is not the same as knowing how to survive it. The sweet, doomed heroine isn't sweet. The cold Duke she's supposed to seduce and ruin keeps looking at her like a riddle he intends to solve. And the harder June improvises, deadpans, and flatly refuses to play her part, the more the story itself seems to push back — as if something on the other side of the page would very much prefer she stick to the script.

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June would. She really would. She was just never any good at doing what she's told.

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A laugh-out-loud villainess isekai for readers who like their fantasy romance with a heavy pour of dramatic irony, a swoony grumpy-sunshine slow burn, and a heroine who treats certain death as a structural editing problem.

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She knows how the story ends. She's wrong.

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Second Life

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