Summary
Everyone in my family had transmigrated into this novel.
Mom was a con artist.
Dad was a thief.
My sister had killed someone, and my brother had dealt drugs.
I was the only fictional character among us—and the heroine of an abusive romance, at that.
When the male lead came to our house to drag me into his idea of love, he walked through the door to find my entire family sharpening kitchen knives, murder in their eyes.
“So you’re the little bastard who can’t behave like a human being?”


