I Stopped Being Toxic

I decided to turn over a new leaf. Why? Because I had a nightmare that I was the villainess in a novel.

In the dream, my terrible attitude and nonstop drama drove my fiancé to dump me, leaving me ruined and miserable.

So when my fiancé failed to buy me the latest designer bag, I quickly backed off. "It's fine, really.

You don't have to." His expression instantly darkened. "Why don't you want it anymore? You don't want things from me now?

Or did some other bastard buy it for you?" Me: "?" Chapter 1 Before Miles Sinclair left for his overseas business trip, I gave him strict instructions. "Miles, I sent a picture of the designer bag to your phone.

Don't forget to buy it for me!" It was a brandnew release from my absolute favorite luxury brand. It had just hit shelves abroad and wasn't available domestically yet.

He gave a faint hum. His halfhearted response irritated me.

I feigned anger. "Are you even listening to me?!" "I am," Miles sighed in defeat. "I'll get it for you." "Heh." I finally smiled, satisfied. "Hurry back then." He was going to be gone for about two weeks.

For those two weeks, I was practically buzzing with anticipation.

I blew up his phone constantly. [Miles, when are you coming back?!] [I miss you SO much—] [Mainly my bag, heh.] I waited thirty minutes without a reply, so I spammed him with angry emojis. [Why are you replying so slowly?!] [Did you find some foreign girl over there?] Ten minutes later, Miles finally responded with an exhausted tone. [Stella, it's 4 AM here.] Oops.

I completely forgot about the time difference. [Then why are you awake right now?] [Your notifications woke me up.] I spotted a flaw in his argument and immediately took the offensive. [That's your fault!

Why didn't you put your phone on silent?] [Go back to sleep!] [I'm going to keep texting you, so make sure to mute it!] [Okay.] As I hammered away at my keyboard, my bestie leaned over.

Looking at my chat log with Miles, she clucked her tongue in admiration. "Tsk tsk.

With a temper like yours, Miles must have the patience of a saint." I scoffed. "There's a line of guys dying to get engaged to me.

Miles should be thrilled he won the lottery!" I was Stella Kensington—an heiress with money, dropdead gorgeous looks, and exactly one flaw: a terrible attitude.

Even with my princess complex, men still lined up to arrange a marriage with me. Gifts stacked up in mountains at my house.

My parents handed me a tablet to pick from. "Stell, sweetie, see if anyone catches your eye." I scrolled through the options.

When I reached Miles Sinclair, my finger stopped. "I knew Miles was a good choice!" My mom caught sight of his photo and immediately started pitching him to me. "He's steady, reliable, handsome… how about him?" He was indeed the most handsome, the richest, and the best option out of the bunch.

I remembered how he was always quiet and indifferent toward me. Driven by some strange impulse, I tapped his moviestarlevel face on the screen. "Fine.

Him." When the Sinclair and Kensington families announced our engagement, the person least happy about it was probably Miles Sinclair himself.

Chapter 2 For the sake of our arranged marriage, he had to put up with my princess complex. I ordered him around. I threw tantrums. He took it all without a word.

Honestly, with that level of tolerance, the man was destined to succeed at anything. No wonder Sinclair Group was thriving under his control.

Miles Sinclair was the textbook definition of a billionaire CEO. Naturally, he had his fair share of admirers.

Once, an unknown number texted me: [Stella, with a temper like yours, how long do you really think Miles Sinclair can endure you?] My blood boiled.

I marched straight to his study and kicked the door open. "Miles!" He was in the middle of reviewing a presentation. I slammed his laptop shut.

I shoved my phone screen right in his face. "Tell me right now. How long can you endure me?" Miles glanced at the screen. A deep crease formed between his brows.

He noted the number. "I'll handle this." "You better!" I spat, riding the high of my fury. "If you don't fix this, the engagement is off!

Then you won't have to deal with my temper anymore!" His jaw tightened.

The frown deepened. "Don't say things you don't mean." He opened his mouth to say more, but I spun around and marched out. I slammed the door so hard the walls rattled.

The next evening, Miles returned home and handed me a thick folder.

A full, detailed incident report. "She's the daughter of a family friend," he explained, his tone completely deadpan. "Her father asked mine for a favor.

I placed her in an internship at Sinclair Group. I fired her today." "She is permanently blacklisted from the company. I also had a word with her father.

Her trust fund allowance has been cut off for the next three months." My phone buzzed. He sent me a fiveminute video. "I had her record an apology. Watch it.

If it’s not to your satisfaction, I’ll make her film it again." The thumbnail was a girl crying her eyes out. I didn't even bother hitting play. I swiped and deleted the message.

Instead, my focus zeroed in on a completely different detail. "Where did you get this video?

Do you have her contact info?" "No." Miles turned his phone screen toward me. "I made her father send it to me." I reviewed the chat logs. Satisfied, I lifted my chin. "Fine.

I'll let it slide this time. But—" I dragged out the syllable, glaring at him. "This is the last time!

If something like this happens again, the engagement is off!" He didn't even blink. "It won't." Back then, I was so insanely confident.

How long could Miles Sinclair endure my temper? Who cared? He could either take it or leave it! Until… I had a dream. A nightmare. A massive, horrifying, earthshattering nightmare.

In it, I was the villainess in a novel. I was spoiled rotten and toxic to the core. I had a perfect fiancé—the second male lead—but I completely ignored him.

Instead, I was obsessively in love with the male lead. I constantly sabotaged the male and female leads' relationship. I spiraled out of control.

Eventually, I brought about my own ruin. My family, my friends, my fiancé—they all abandoned me. Wandering the streets in absolute despair, a massive truck plowed into me.

I jolted awake. The AC in my room was blasting, but my forehead and back were drenched in a cold sweat. I sat there panting, my chest heaving. It took me a long time to calm down.

Was that really just a dream? It felt too real. The suffocating despair of being abandoned by everyone. The bonecrushing agony of the truck slamming into my body.

It was all too vivid. Was this a warning? A vision meant to wake me up? No way. I refused to let that become my reality. To hell with the male lead!

And as for my fiancé… Chapter 3 In the dream, I constantly pushed Miles's boundaries. I did everything in my power to break our engagement.

In the end, he looked at me with freezing eyes. "Stella, you are a profound disappointment to me." Miles had never given me a look like that in real life.

Just thinking about that dead, freezing stare made my chest tighten. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart, cutting off my air.

I didn't know why it hurt so much, but one thing was crystal clear: I never wanted Miles to look at me like that. I wouldn't survive it. Sleep was impossible.

I tossed and turned for hours. By morning, I had massive dark circles under my eyes and a brandnew resolve. I was going to turn over a new leaf!

I was going to fix my garbage temper! I wouldn't let Miles be disappointed in me! I was going to save my own life! Action time.

Normally, I blew up Miles's phone with pointless garbage at all hours. I didn't care if he was busy. I didn't care if he was asleep. If he took too long to reply, I threw a fit.

But today, I locked my phone away and forced my hands to stay still. My fingers literally itched, but I repeated a mantra in my head: It's fine. It's fine.

Miles is coming back in a few days anyway. I somehow lasted until evening. It's been almost a whole day, I rationalized. Sending just one… or five messages won't hurt, right?

He can't possibly find that annoying! Just as my selfcontrol reached its breaking point, my screen lit up. A text from Miles. I blinked.

Usually, I was the one harassing him with massive paragraphs. He rarely initiated, and his texts were always short. [Is your phone broken?] [?] [No.] Radio silence.

His question was super weird and out of nowhere, but I didn't care. Muscle memory took over. I immediately fired off another string of texts.

By the time I realized my new messages took up the entire screen, panic set in. Stella, you idiot! Why couldn't you just hold back?!

Twenty minutes later, Miles finally replied. [Sorry. I was pulled into an emergency meeting.

I didn't have time to text back.] The old me would have dragged him over the coals for that. But now, I was desperate to show off my newfound understanding. [Oh, it's totally fine!

Just reply whenever you're free!] Miles vanished again. My "newfound understanding" instantly evaporated. I internally screamed. What is that supposed to mean, Miles?!

Another emergency meeting?! Why is there always an emergency the second I start talking to you?! Then, an incoming video call flashed on my screen. From Miles.

I didn't even bother fixing my scowl.

I hit accept. "What!" On the other side of the screen, Miles was studying me intently. "Are you home alone?" "Yeah, obviously." I frowned at the camera. "Why?" He didn't answer.

His dark eyes shifted, slowly scanning the background over my shoulder. After a thorough sweep of the room, he looked back at me. "I need you to know something.

Unless there is a legitimate emergency, I will always reply to you the exact second I see your messages." "Hmph!

Talk is cheap!" I huffed, not entirely buying it. "I don't want to talk anymore. You're dismissed!" Before he could say another word, I hit the red button and killed the call.

The screen went black. A second later, the realization slapped me in the face. Wait a minute! Wasn't I supposed to be turning over a new leaf?! Why am I throwing a tantrum again