Chapter 1

Ever since I was a little girl, I followed my Nana to learn the ancient arts―reading faces, auditing home energies, and breaking cycles of bad luck.

For years, I silently absorbed the negative karma for my family, shielding them from disasters and ensuring their lives were smooth sailing.

But instead of being grateful, my parents and brother looked down on me. They called my skills "creepy," "primitive," and "delusional."

Even my fiancé publicly broke off our engagement, mocking me in front of all the guests for being a "freakish witch" who wasn't fit for his high-society life.

At that moment, my heart turned to ice. I was done being their sacrificial lamb.

I decided to stop shielding everyone from their own fate and started a mysticism livestream. I didn't need to see people in person, and I didn't ask for money upfront―I let my results do the talking.

From the ashes of my old life, a new star in the world of the occult was born, ready to crush everyone who ever doubted me.

1

My name is Gwendolyn Reed. I grew up in a small, quiet town in the Pacific Northwest with my Nana.

Nana was the local legend, the woman people went to when things went wrong. She wasn't some sidewalk palm reader or a scammer; she was a true master of energy and fate.

From the age of five to fifteen, she taught me everything―how to read the secrets hidden in the lines of a face, the maps of a palm, and the flow of energy in a room.

Before she passed away, she handed me a handwritten leather journal. She told me it was our family's legacy and that I must protect it with my life.

Back then, I didn't think much of it. I just thought of it as a strange family tradition.

I didn't realize until much later just how powerful those secrets really were.

When I was nineteen, my father planned to go into business with a new partner. I took one look at the man's face―heavy brow, sunken eyes, and a sharp, thin nose.

It was the classic face of a "backstabber," someone who takes everything and disappears. I begged my dad not to sign the contract, but he just laughed.

"Gwen, stop with that New Age nonsense," he snapped. "It's embarrassing."

I couldn't just watch him lose everything, so I secretly placed a protective energy grid in his home office, using the simple methods Nana taught me.

Three months later, the partner vanished with the company funds, leaving my dad with a mountain of debt. But because of my protective grid, the loss was barely half of what it should have been.

From then on, I started quietly fixing the energy around my family whenever trouble brewed.

My mom owned a small boutique. I adjusted the layout to improve the flow, and her business went from struggling to thriving overnight.

When my brother was failing his senior year, I moved his desk to a position that cleared his mental fog. He ended up graduating with honors he didn't deserve.

I never explained these things to them. They just thought they were getting lucky, never realizing I was the one holding back the storms.

Meanwhile, I became a ghost in my own home.

My parents thought I was "unstable" for believing in mysticism despite being a college student. My brother thought I was "a total weirdo" every time I tried to warn him about something.

Even at family dinners, my aunts and uncles would mock me. "Hey Gwen, why don't you tell us if we'll win the lottery today?" they'd say, followed by bursts of cruel laughter.

Then there was Caleb Montgomery, my fiancé. His family was wealthy, and when we first met, he was decent enough.

He occasionally complained that I wasn't "trendy" enough or that I didn't know how to dress for his social circle, but for two years, I thought we had something real.

Our engagement party was held at a five-star hotel downtown. I wore a modest dress and light makeup, trying to blend in for my parents' sake.

The night seemed fine until Caleb stood up during the main course.

He held his glass high and walked to the center of the ballroom. I thought he was going to give a toast to our future, but his first words cut through the room like a knife.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family. This isn't exactly an engagement party. It's more of a farewell dinner."

The room went dead silent.

"After a lot of thought, I've decided to officially call off my engagement to Gwendolyn Reed."

He said it with a smirk, as if he were doing everyone a favor.

"The reason is simple. Gwen spends her days obsessing over spirits, energy, and hocus pocus. My family runs a real business."

"I need a wife with class and intelligence," he continued, looking down his nose at me. "Not a crazy swamp witch."

Whispers erupted across the tables. Some people were laughing into their napkins, while others just looked away in pity.

My parents turned white as sheets. They sat there, paralyzed by the social humiliation.

My mom tried to stand up to say something, but Caleb's mother pushed her back down into her seat. "Let the kids handle it, dear. You don't want to get involved in this mess."

My father clenched his fists, but he didn't say a word to defend me.

I looked at Caleb. There was no guilt in his eyes, only the relief of someone who had finally dumped a heavy burden.

"Caleb," I said, standing up. My voice was eerily calm. "Are you finished?"

He blinked, surprised by my lack of tears.

"Good. Since you're done, here's my answer. I agree. The engagement is off."

"But remember this," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You didn't just dump a 'witch' today. You dumped the person who's been keeping you safe for two years."

"Safe?" He let out a mocking laugh. "Gwen, give it a rest. That's just more of your―"

"Have you won a single business deal on your own merit in the last two years?" I interrupted him. "That car accident that should have killed you? That contract you almost signed that would have bankrupted your father?"

"You think those were just lucky streaks?" I asked.

His smile flickered for a second, a shadow of doubt crossing his face.

I didn't bother explaining any more. As of this moment, I was done protecting him.

"Caleb, from today on, your luck belongs entirely to you. Good luck carrying that weight."

I grabbed my bag and signaled for my parents to leave.

Behind us, the room exploded into gossip, but I didn't look back. Caleb's face had turned a sickly shade of gray.

I stopped at the hotel entrance and looked back at the glowing lights of the ballroom.

For two years, I had neutralized seven major disasters and countless minor streaks of bad luck for him. He never said thank you, and tonight, he called me a freak.

Starting tonight, all that negative energy was going right back where it belonged.