Chapter 1

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My fiancé paid millions for a stunning mermaid, built her a heated pool kept at a perfect temperature, and had the finest fresh seafood delivered for her every single day.

But that little seafood really did think she was the lady of the house.

The moment Nathaniel Henson left on business, she ordered me out.

"I'll be honest with you. Every night he brushes my scales himself, one inch at a time."

"The way he looks at me, it's pure possession."

"I've already decided. When he gets back, I'll drink the special serum and shed my tail for him."

I sighed, exasperated, and uninstalled the short-drama app off her phone.

"You're overthinking it. Nathaniel wouldn't spend that kind of money chasing a fish."

"Take my advice. Eat what you're given, drink what you're given, and stop knocking yourself out trying to please him. Otherwise you'll regret it."

She twisted my goodwill into jealousy and insisted on being the lady of this house.

What she didn't know was that Nathaniel messaged me every day to report in:

"Babe, every one of her scales, I've scrubbed clean and sweet-smelling with the fishy-odor-removing body wash. Once they're made into the mermaid-scale wedding gown, you're going to look gorgeous in it."

"But this fish is still too skinny right now. Let's fatten her up a bit more."

"Once she's plump, the mermaid pearl inside her is bound to be big and round, and then it'll cure your migraines for good."

1

I honestly never expected a fish to be a hopeless romantic too.

So I just held Nathaniel's messages up for this silly fish to read.

"Wake up. The only thing about you he's interested in is your scales and your pearl."

But the silly fish didn't believe it. She even threw my phone into the pool in a huff, flicked her shimmering rainbow tail, and looked smug.

"I know what this is. You're scared I'll replace you, so you're using cheap tricks to drive a wedge between us."

"But I'm the rose Nathaniel raised with his own hands. Unless he says it to my face, I'll never believe you."

I couldn't be bothered to argue. I just pulled out my tablet and video-called Nathaniel.

The call connected, and I gave him an order, no patience left in my voice:

"Tell this fish, right now, to her face, why you're keeping her."

On the other end of the screen, Nathaniel first gave the silly fish a little wave, and the words came right out of him:

"Because Sabrina's prettier than all the other fish, of course."

"Be good, Sabrina. Eat a few more helpings of calamari later. You have to get all nice and chubby, that's when you're cutest."

I nearly blacked out.

So this was the exact patter he'd been using to sweet-talk a fish.

Forget a fish. Even a dog would've been in heat for three days after hearing that.

I lost my temper at the Nathaniel on the tablet.

"Nathaniel, be a decent human being. You're actually toying with a fish's feelings."

Nathaniel pointed at himself, the picture of innocence.

"Babe, I'm being wronged here..."

"The keeper's manual says a fish loses scales when it's unhappy."

"And if I just told her I'm keeping her to harvest her scales and dig out the pearl to cure your illness, wouldn't a fish that cost two million drop dead of fright on the spot..."

He'd barely finished when, on the other side, Sabrina asked the caretaker for another fifty servings of calamari.

She was getting ready to film a video of herself eating like a good girl to send to Nathaniel.

The corner of my mouth twitched. I looked down at the screen.

"Nathaniel, your two-million-dollar fish already showed off thirty pounds of tuna half an hour ago."

"At this rate, she won't die of fright. She'll burst from overeating first..."

Before I could finish, the tablet died and the screen went dark.

I rubbed at my temples and watched Sabrina chewing away in front of her phone.

Fine. Whatever she said, for the next few days, it was true.

She was just a fish. Why should I stoop to arguing with her.

But I never imagined Sabrina would turn out to be one ruthless fish.

In the middle of the night, she actually dragged the caretaker into the pool and forced him to order a bottle of the special serum.

When I woke again, all I saw was pool water gone dark red, a layer of broken scales floating on top.

And when she crawled out of the pool, half dead.

There was no tail on her lower body anymore. In its place was a pair of long, snow-white legs.

Except her face was ghastly pale, and she sucked in a sharp breath of pain with every step.

But seeing my shocked expression, she looked quite pleased with herself.

So pleased she didn't even care about the pain, straining her voice to spit out her threats:

"Before, I had no legs, so it wasn't easy for my Nathaniel to get close to me."

"When he comes home and sees me like this, he'll be over the moon."

"Be smart. Get out on your own, before he has to spell it out."

With that, she deliberately shoved me aside.

Copying the way humans did it, she went and picked out a nightgown for herself.

Then she flopped straight onto Nathaniel's bed and waited, eyes shining, for him to come home.

The caretaker stood before me, soaked through, head bowed in apology:

"Miss Summers, that special serum has a side effect. If she doesn't return to the water within seven days, she'll burst and die."

"Don't worry. She won't be able to stir up any real trouble."

I looked at the grayish-white flecks of scale drifting in the pool and went quiet for a few seconds.

Nathaniel might look easygoing and offhand, but the truth was he had a powerful need for control.

Once he decided on something, he wouldn't tolerate the slightest deviation.

He came home on the dot every day, scrubbing those scales so carefully, for so long.

All to make me that custom mermaid-scale gown, to leave behind a one-of-a-kind memory that belonged only to us.

And now the quality of these scales had ended up worse than something freshly scraped off a fish at the market...

I sent Nathaniel a message right away:

"When it comes to fish, do you like it grilled or steamed?"

Nathaniel shot back in a second:

"Babe, I like it braised. Why do you ask?"

I sent back a bitter little smile of an emoji.

"Nothing. Just see for yourself when you get home..."