Chapter 2

While waiting for the CEO to arrive, Chelsea couldn't stop pacing and chatting nervously.

"Anna, do you know what kind of women your boss likes? Do his exes look anything like me?"

"If I wreck his car, what are the odds he'll actually sue me?"

She asked rapid-fire questions while frantically scrolling through news articles on her phone.

She reread every public profile on our company's CEO, Reid Holloway.

Reid Holloway was the ultimate eligible bachelor in the city.

Born into wealth, he chose to build his own tech and real estate empire from the ground up right after college.

In the public eye, he was the crown jewel of high society.

Marrying an ordinary heir just meant dealing with family money, but marrying Reid meant becoming the queen of a self-made empire.

All the articles praised his ruthless business acumen and stunning looks.

Without saying a word, I took her phone and searched for viral car-smashing romance videos.

The social media algorithm worked instantly.

For a delusional gold-digger like Chelsea, the feed immediately served up hundreds of fairy-tale romance clips.

The videos claimed that smashing luxury cars was the ultimate bold move to catch a rich man's eye.

The comment sections were flooded with people swearing they bagged their wealthy husbands using this exact chaotic energy.

Seeing this, Chelsea's doubts vanished completely.

She sank lazily onto the sofa and scrolled through her phone with absolute confidence.

To prove her newfound status, she picked up an incoming call from her manager on speakerphone.

"I quit, you miserable jerk!" Chelsea shouted before the manager could even speak.

Hearing her arrogant laugh, I shrank back slightly, pretending to be intimidated.

The manager on the other end was stunned, then exploded in fury.

"You idiot! You think this company can't run without you? There are a hundred people lined up to replace you!"

Chelsea sneered with disgust.

"That corporate grind is for peasants like you. I was born to be a billionaire's wife."

She hung up the phone and shot me a condescending glance, looking at the project proposal on my laptop.

"Honestly, Anna, what's the point of working so hard? You're just going to be an underpaid corporate slave your whole life."

"Instead of pulling all-nighters, you should suck up to your future billionaire cousin. If I'm in a good mood, I might introduce you to some average trust-fund baby. He won't be Reid Holloway, but it beats being a nobody."

I shook my head frantically, playing dumb.

Chelsea narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why are you shaking your head? Do you think my plan will fail? You think I won't become his wife?"

Looking into her glare, I touched my own face self-deprecatingly.

"Chelsea, I know my place. Rich guys don't look at girls like me."

"If you really make it, just put in a good word for me so my work life can be a little easier. That's all I ask."

My humble attitude stroked her ego perfectly.

She rubbed her chin and looked me up and down with pity.

"Anna, no offense, but look how chubby and plain you've gotten. It must be so embarrassing for Uncle and Aunt to have a daughter like you."

I murmured a quiet agreement, swallowing the bitter ache in my chest.

My family was never rich, and I had been sickly as a child.

To nurse me back to health, my parents worked tirelessly and always encouraged me to eat well, telling me that having some meat on my bones meant good health and happiness.

In my past life, after graduating college, I landed a great job and finally became healthy under their unconditional love.

Yet because of Chelsea, I was murdered in my prime, and my parents died of starvation and grief.

Everything was destroyed by this monster standing in front of me.

I forced down the burning hatred in my eyes.

Chelsea tossed her phone aside, smoothed down her white dress, grabbed her pink hammer, and walked out the door with a triumphant smirk.

"Don't be too jealous, cousin. Some people are just born lucky."

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

I stared at my phone, waiting for any notifications from the neighborhood group chat.

Half an hour passed in dead silence.

Then, Chelsea posted an update on her social media feed.

She was standing proudly beside the completely wrecked Rolls-Royce, clutching her pink hammer with a radiant smile.

"The internet never lies! In a few weeks, I'll be Mrs. Holloway."