Transmigrated: I Became My Nemesis's Woman novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Is he lost?

Raven wished, with a desperation she had never known before, that everything would dissolve into darkness again. That the fall had killed her. That this was not reality.

Because if this was real, then fate had a twisted sense of humor.

She had been hired to assassinate him.

And now she was lying in a hospital—under his protection.

Or his captivity.

She kept her breathing slow and even, forcing her body into stillness as she pretended to remain unconscious.

Every rise and fall of her chest was carefully measured and controlled. If she gathered enough strength, she could still escape. She just needed time. Time to think. Time to understand how she had ended up here instead of dead at the bottom of that cliff.

Fragments of memory flickered behind her closed eyelids—the cold night air, the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears, the sharp sting of impact, and then nothing.

She should have died. Yet she hadn’t. ’And now it’s time to move’

Suddenly silence fell into the room, and in that very tranquility she realized there were no footsteps. No voices. No machines beeping in urgency. Only the faint hum of electricity and the distant murmur of life beyond the walls.

Slowly, carefully, Raven snapped her eyes open.

Her gaze swept across the room, sharp and alert despite the weakness in her limbs. White walls. A metal tray. A single chair in the corner. No visible restraints. No guards inside.

That alone made her uneasy.

People like him did nothing without purpose.

Moving with extreme caution, she shifted her weight and slid one foot off the bed. The cold floor sent a jolt up her spine, but she didn’t react. Pain was familiar. Pain was nothing.

Raven had already made her decision.

’It was time.’

She rose to her feet, her movements silent despite the dizziness clawing at her senses. Every instinct screamed at her to move fast—but haste led to mistakes, and mistakes led to death.

She reached the door and paused, pressing herself against the wall beside it. Slowly, she pushed it open just enough to peer into the hallway.

’Empty.’

But not unguarded.

Her sharp eyes immediately located the surveillance cameras installed along the corridor. Small. Precise. Watching everything.

Of course they had saved her, but not out of mercy. They wanted something. Information. Names. Her clan.

A faint, cold smile touched her lips. ’They had made a mistake if they thought she would break.’

Raven slipped out of the room, her steps measured and calculated. She kept her head lowered, her movements natural, timing her steps with the slow rotation of the cameras. She stayed close to the blind spots, slipping through the corridor like a ghost.

No hesitation. No wasted motion.

She reached a changing room and slipped inside, closing the door without a sound.

Inside, she moved quickly, discarding the hospital gown and changing into a set of spare clothes left behind—plain and forgettable. The kind that blended in with the crowd. She pulled her hair back and grabbed a discarded mask, securing it over her face.

When she was finished, she opened the door and returned to the corridor, her posture relaxed and her pace steady. She did not run.

Each step carried her closer to freedom until she slipped out of the building and into the open air, the daylight greeting her like an old ally.

She was alive.

And she was not done yet.

***

"Ha... now that’s what I call refreshing."

Raven slammed the empty glass of lemonade onto the table with more force than necessary and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. The cold drink had done little to satisfy her, but at least it had washed away the bitter, metallic dryness clinging to her throat.

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