Blurb：
After three years of enduring Vincent Stone’s cruelty as his personal assistant, Serena Shaw finally files her resignation when Sophia Laurent returns. The mad billionaire who forced her to sleep on cold floors and mocked her as his “leashed bitch” now faces the consequences of his abuse. But Vincent Stone isn’t ready to let go of the woman who endured his darkest moments – his fear of darkness, his obsession with Brooklyn Dumpling House, and his violent temper. As Mr. Collins watches with sympathy and Veronica Stone witnesses the unfolding drama, Serena discovers the system that bound her to this gloomy male lead has one final revelation. Who will triumph when the white moonlight returns to Southport International?
Content：
The system tasked me with looking after the gloomy male lead.
After the female lead left, no one dared approach Vincent Stone, the madman. Only I faced the challenge head-on.
Vincent was afraid of the dark and demanded I sleep beside him, only to brutally throw me off the bed, injuring my back.
For over a thousand nights, he forced me to curl up on the icy floor beside his bed, leaving me with chronic health issues.
He craved dumplings from that famous Brooklyn Dumpling House. I bought them back at dawn, and in his rush, scalding broth spilled onto my hand, blistering the skin.
He barely glanced: “You spilled the soup. Feed it to the dog.”
Our circle laughed, calling me Vincent Stone’s leashed bitch, a lapdog who wouldn’t leave no matter how kicked. I never denied it.
Finally, the female lead returned.
They laughed, saying I’d licked boots all the way to nothing.
But they didn’t know this was the day the system promised my wish would come true.
Vincent Stone’s white moonlight was returning. Everyone waited to see how this lapdog would handle the fallout.
I was just relieved the mission was finally over.
Hearing the news, I immediately drafted my resignation for Vincent. As I raised my hand to knock on his office door, I overheard him talking to his assistant.
“Mr. Stone, it’s confirmed. Ms. Laurent arrives at Southport International tonight at seven.”
“Perfect. Have the sapphire pendant gift-wrapped.”
“But sir, wasn’t that for Ms. Shaw?”
Vincent tapped his knuckles rhythmically on the desk, the sound echoing sharply in the spacious office. “Order her something else. What’s mine is mine to give.”
“And don’t forget, order ninety-nine yellow roses for the car.”
I knocked directly and entered. Both men looked up instantly.
Vincent’s dark, intense eyes fixed on me, his tailored suit accentuating his imposing frame.
Mr. Collins, his assistant, looked at me with pity and sympathy. I gave him a small, acknowledging smile.
He was someone I’d hired personally, someone who’d weathered the tough times with us.
I placed the resignation letter on Vincent’s desk. The words “Resignation Letter” were clearly visible.
“Mr. Stone, this requires your signature.”
Vincent let out a derisive snort, flicked his eyes towards Mr. Collins, who wisely slipped out.
“Don’t play these coy games, Serena,” Vincent sneered, standing up. His tall frame radiated intimidation as he advanced.
He leaned close, his breath cold against my cheek. “Know your place. Where could you possibly go if you left Stone Industries? You schemed your way up, clung to my side. You know exactly what you were after.”
My expression remained unreadable, a polite smile fixed in place.
Vincent suddenly gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his scrutinizing gaze, his voice laced with scorn and certainty.
“You’ve managed just fine these past three years, haven’t you?”
“You’re always so pragmatic. Stick to what benefits you – that’s what suits your kind best.”
He released my chin, leaving angry red marks on my pale skin. He snatched my resignation letter and tore it to shreds, the pieces fluttering down behind me.
“Mr. Stone, my feelings for you are purely professional admiration. Personnel changes are normal for any company.”
My words were drowned out by the sharp slam of his office door.
Back at the Stone mansion, I started packing my suitcase immediately, searching for international flights.
Three years, yet my belongings were few. One suitcase held everything.
A knock sounded. Opening the door, I found Veronica Stone, Vincent’s sister.
She stared at my suitcase, her pupils dilating slightly. “Serena… you know Sophia Laurent is back, don’t you?” she asked hesitantly.
Three years ago, Vincent crashed his car chasing after Sophia Laurent. He lay in a coma for three months.
The company was in chaos.
Sophia hadn’t looked back, vanishing abroad without a word, leaving Vincent to descend into madness upon waking.
Veronica was only fifteen then, terrified of the world, hiding in her room, hands clamped over her ears to escape Vincent’s rage.
When she was near breaking point, I appeared.
As arranged by the system, I became the granddaughter of an old friend of the late Mr. Stone Sr.
Armed with a will naming me, assigned as a corporate advisor, I parachuted into Stone Industries.
Everyone expected a country bumpkin, waiting to laugh. Instead, I calmed Veronica, stabilized the panicked shareholders, and personally oversaw Vincent’s rehabilitation.
I restored surface order.
Now, Veronica looked at me, breathless, searching my face for any flicker of anger.
Seeing her distress, she frantically dialed her brother: “Vincent! Where are you? Get home! Now!”
“What is it?” His voice was cold, impatient. Airport announcements buzzed faintly in the background.
“It’s…” Veronica glanced at me, then blurted, “It’s Serena’s birthday! We promised to celebrate! The day’s not over yet! There’s still time!”
A pause. Clearly, he’d forgotten.
“Tell her I’ll make it up to her with a gift.”
“If you don’t come back Serena’s leaving!” Veronica’s voice cracked.
“Has she brainwashed you too? Veronica, remember whose sister you are!” Vincent snapped.
Veronica tried again, only to get a busy signal. She turned back, utterly dejected. “Serena, I’m sorry… Vincent… he doesn’t mean it.”
“Veronica, listen to your brother. Our relationship was purely professional. Ms. Laurent is the one meant to be with Mr. Stone.”
I shook my head gently, advising.
“How can you say that! You’re both just stubborn!” Veronica glared at me, cheeks puffed out in frustration on my behalf.
I guided Veronica back to her room. “It’s late. You need your sleep.”
Finally calming Veronica down, I heard the system’s chime.
??[Host, Sophia Laurent has returned. Congratulations on completing your mission. Your wish will now be granted.]??
I exhaled in relief.
I wheeled my suitcase out of the Stone mansion.
I took one last look at the place I’d called home for three years.
Night had fallen. I arrived at a two-story brownstone in Brooklyn.
I’d purchased it a year ago.
The previous owner was a kind, middle-aged woman.
The day I bought it, rain poured down, a cold, wet winter.
Vincent had thrown me out onto the muddy roadside.
“Find your own way back.”
The chill seeped into my bones, leaving a chronic condition. On damp days, the pain flared, bending me double.
Vincent dismissed it as a ploy for sympathy. He sat in his car, watching my humiliating struggle, my pleading gaze, before driving off.
My phone was dead. I walked through the rain, clutching my aching back, until I collapsed near this house. The owner took me in.
Learning her son was ill and she needed to sell fast for his treatment, I offered twenty thousand over market price.
Remembering the past – I hadn’t even had my own room at the Stones.
After buying it, I renovated the brownstone in the style Julian Grant loved: clean lines, minimalist, walls adorned with lush greenery.
The far-right room overflowed with gifts I’d collected for Julian over the years.
Three years ago, Julian Grant had fallen into a coma.
Doctors across the country offered no hope, until the system found me.
It promised one wish upon mission completion.
It gave me hope.
Lying in the soft bed, I had my first restful sleep in three years.
In my dream, Julian woke. We were together again, happy.
My phone buzzed with messages from those enjoying my downfall.
[Serena, Vincent posted on Insta. Forget replacing Sophia as Mrs. Stone. When are you leaving?]
Vincent had posted his first update in three years: a single picture.
Sophia Laurent sat elegantly in profile.
Vincent gazed at her porcelain skin, his look drowningly intense, filled with obsessive adoration.
The comments were flooded with congratulations, interspersed with public digs at me.
My inbox was a mix of pity and schadenfreude. I ignored them all. I never cared before. I cared even less now.
From start to finish, there was only one person who mattered.
Thinking of Julian Grant – elegant, reserved, infinitely gentle – my eyes stung, hot and wet.
I clutched my shirt over my heart, trying to contain the surge of aching emotion.
I couldn’t return to him just yet.
I needed to ensure the system delivered its reward.
I went to the office as usual, handling my resignation and handover.
Most of Stone Industries’ management were people I’d promoted. They wouldn’t give me trouble.
I didn’t expect Sophia Laurent to show up at the office.
I nodded politely, ready to leave.
She intercepted me. Onlookers subtly gathered.
[LOL, white moon’s back! Gold-diggers move aside! Look at that class! Serena could never.]
[Licked boots for three years, ended up with zilch. Pathetic.]
[Pathetic? If she’d won, she’d be Mrs. Stone! I’d lick boots too!]
Sophia looked delighted, eyes sparkling. “You must be Serena Shaw? I’ve heard somuch about you from friends. You’re lovely. Thank you for taking care of Vincent these years. I don’t know how to repay you.”
I kept a pleasant smile.
“You’re too kind, Ms. Laurent. It was just part of the job. Mr. Stone compensated me well.”
“I heard yesterday was your birthday? My apologies. Jet lag hit me hard, I’m afraid Vincent had to look after me all night.”
She lightly touched the sapphire pendant at her throat, a flicker of challenge in her eyes.
“Not at all. Mr. Stone’s devotion to you is only natural. If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
She blocked me. “Ms. Shaw, since you’re leaving, make it a clean break, yes?”
Bystanders gaped; the first clash was unexpectedly fierce.
I arched an eyebrow. “Ms. Laurent, are you feeling insecure? Relax. I have zero interest in men like him.”
Heading downstairs, Vincent messaged me.
A picture: Sophia and I standing together.
In the photo, she looked up at me, eyes red-rimmed. My back was to the camera, making me seem intimidating, as if I were bullying her.
[Can your tactics get any lower? Get out of the house tonight. Don’t stay at the Stones.]
I didn’t reply. I turned off the screen.
Good riddance.
The following days were quieter.
Then, late one night, just as I’d finished sending off the last files and was about to sleep, my phone rang. Unknown number. Vincent’s voice, ragged and exhausted.
He said: “Serena. Come over. I can’t sleep.”
“Mr. Stone, I’ve resigned.”
His voice tightened with anger.
“I won’t ask twice. Get here.”
He hung up. The phone rang again instantly. I blocked the number.
Less than two hours later, pounding echoed from downstairs. Peering through the peephole, I saw Vincent.
His face was thunderous, radiating cold fury. He looked terrible.
Sensing my presence, he leaned close to the peephole, a mocking smile twisting his lips.
“Open up.”
I opened the door silently. Gone was the previous politeness, replaced by cold indifference.
“What do you want?”
Vincent tugged impatiently at his tie, dark circles under his eyes. He tried to push past me. I blocked him. He scanned the small foyer visible from the door and laughed harshly.
“This is what you live in after leaving me? Get your things. You’re coming back.”
“Don’t test me, Serena. My patience is thin.”
When I didn’t move, Vincent’s dark eyes flashed with rage. He grabbed my arm, trying to drag me towards his car.
I pulled the paring knife hidden in my sleeve and slashed the back of his hand.
He recoiled, shock and disbelief warring on his face.
“You cut me?”
After that, I ignored his shouts and pounding at the door.
Simultaneously, the system’s notification chimed.
??[Congratulations, Host. Your reward has been granted.]??
Relief and joy flooded me. A new life awaited.
Vincent stormed back to his mansion, his mind fixated on the brand-new pair of men’s sneakers he’d glimpsed by Serena’s door.
Weren’t they meant for him?
Since when had Serena Shaw, the woman he couldn’t shake off, started changing?
He lay in bed, insomnia clawing at him again.
For the first time, he felt genuine curiosity about Serena. Who was she, really?
An unsettling agitation churned in his chest. His butler approached, handing him a file, sighing quietly.
“Still nothing?! I refuse to believe a woman who could leverage the old man’s will just appeared out of thin air!” Vincent scanned the report.
“Sir, we truly can find no record of Ms. Shaw’s existence prior to three years ago.”
Vincent scoffed at the notion.
Appeared out of thin air?
Could she just vanish?
The thought sparked a sudden, sharp panic. He stopped on the stairs, hesitating for a few seconds before turning to the butler.
“Package up that new jewelry shipment. Deliver it to Serena tomorrow morning. Say… something nice.”
“Yes, sir!” The butler brightened, thinking Ms. Shaw had finally turned the corner.
“And prepare a room for her. Stock it with… things she likes.”
The butler looked hesitant. “But sir… I’m not sure what Ms. Shaw prefers.”
“…”
Vincent racked his brain. He couldn’t think of anything. The sapphire pendant was the only thing she’d ever specifically asked him to buy in three years. Maybe she’d thought it was meant for her birthday.
He hadn’t even known when her birthday was.
The agitation and panic kept him tossing. His unease was confirmed the next morning.
“She’s gone?!”
“…Yes, sir.”
She’d slashed him last night, and now she’d packed and fled?
How much did Serena Shaw despise him? Were all those three years of care just an act?
The thought drove Vincent into a frenzy. His eyes bloodshot, he looked like a demon escaped from hell.
“Find her! Tear this city apart!”
After Vincent left, I booked a flight for 8:00 AM. I arrived at the airport three hours early.
The sky was still gray. Exhausted from no sleep, yet wired with adrenaline.
At the security line, my peripheral vision caught Vincent’s figure.
He scanned the crowd frantically, face pale, clothes disheveled. He turned, our eyes locked, and he stared, then charged towards me.
My heart lurched. Damn. Quick thinking, I pulled a pack of strawberry candies from my backpack and asked the mother and daughter ahead of me if they minded letting me go first, explaining I felt unwell. They agreed kindly. The girl behind me even slipped a tampon into my hand. Touched, I murmured thanks, handed my boarding pass to the TSA agent, and ran through security without looking back. Vincent’s enraged bellow followed me.
“SERENA!”
“GET BACK HERE!”
“YOU CAN’T LEAVE! COME BACK!!!”
Discovering her escape attempt drove Vincent into overdrive, but he arrived seconds too late! He could only watch Serena vanish into the terminal.
He ignored the shouts of security personnel, trying to barrel through to drag her back!
Blocked.
The roar of the departing plane filled the air.
He slumped to the floor, legs suddenly weak.
Vincent sat slumped in his car, despairing, the back of his hand pressed against his burning eyes.
He’d never imagined Serena would leave. He’d wanted to see her jealous, unhinged, not that constant facade of calm rationality.
He laughed bitterly. “Collins, that time she said she didn’t like me… was she serious?”
Collins, exhausted and guzzling water, wanted to roll his eyes. Vincent had been busy fawning over Sophia Laurent; Collins and Serena had held the company together. Now Serena was gone, he was done too.
He decided to lay it out. “Sir, if Ms. Shaw had feelings for you, it’s unlikely she’d have gone to St. Patrick’s every week to pray for Ms. Laurent’s safe return.”
“What did you say?!”
Vincent’s eyes snapped open, filled with shock and fury. His hands trembled slightly. His breath hitched, chest heaving. The rage overwhelmed him, and he passed out.
Download the NovelGo app, Search 【 172075 】reads the whole book.
