I hurriedly ran back into my room, changed into what Allesha usually wore – an old, worn-out white shirt and jeans, and removed my makeup in the mirror.
After I'd done all that, I looked at myself in the mirror for the last time. It may not change the fact that Allesha looks rather beautiful in her bare state, but it's enough to execute my plan.
When I am fighting for the throne to be the next Emperor, I'm not just fighting to the death. I also play with minds and manipulate the opinions of my people. This is just the same thing. Because shame is a dangerous weapon when played right.
I took the car keys, if Allesha's memory served me right, from the drawer. I glanced at the blue folder where they rested but decided I'd check it later instead.
With my worn-out sneakers, I headed to the parking lot to find the car I was looking for. It's an older model—a black, worn-out Toyota—something even I know, especially compared to the parade of shiny cars it was displayed with.
That selfish husband didn't even bother to take care of his wife, at least financially, if he's going to abuse her mentally anyway. Even my lying husband took care of me—until that night.
I shook my head at the thought of comparing them, knowing they are both lying, cheating, manipulative men who deserve an execution.
I stood in front of the car, held the door handle, pushed it upward, and with a click, I was able to open it. Good thing I can use Allesha's memory like a second nature, or else how am I supposed to navigate a world with technological advancements I didn't even know were possible?
I went inside the cramped space, spacing out for about a good long second at all the strange and complicated buttons inside.
Raised the key and found the keyhole. The sound it made rattled me so much that my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I stepped on the engine, and when it jolted forward, my instinct was to step on the brakes.
Wrong move.
My head almost hit the steering wheel—I winced from the pain.
"Damn this thing! Riding a horse is still better!" I cursed, stomping my foot on the car floor. But I decided it wouldn't fix my problem, so I fixed what they called the seatbelt around me and tried again.
It took me a good thirty minutes to get the thing working before I finally got the hang of it.
"Whoa! This thing is faster than a horse," I exclaimed, amused. It didn't take me an hour before I finally arrived at my destination. I probably broke a few laws on the way, but it doesn't matter—wealthy people hate gossip, and I'm pretty sure Allesha's husband would take care of it. Serves him right.
I stood in front of the towering building with a design I'd never seen before—if my memory served me right.
I stared at the name flashed on the entrance: [Sereev Corporation].
My brow raised. "Look how ridiculous it is," I spat.
Seerev is a combined surname of Allesha and Damien—Seres and Reeves. The audacity to still use the name they both created, in the company they co-founded, but he left nothing to his wife.
Damien, that cheating bastard, thinks he's so clever and untouchable. It's partly Allesha's fault—she had every right to take back what's hers, but she decided to give it up in the name of love.
I sighed, realizing I'd probably do the same thing. I hit my chest a few times, trying to quiet the pain in my heart. I don't want to shed a single tear for them.
I smirked, a wicked glint in my eye.
I stalked toward the crowded street corner, making sure there were as many people as possible, then collapsed to the floor, feigning weakness. I clasped my stomach, staggering as if I hadn't eaten in days.
"Oh my! I'm so hungry! Someone come feed me!" I cried dramatically until a crowd of onlookers began to gather around me.
My eyes fluttered, and I trembled.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and my heart screamed in satisfaction. A man and a woman helped me stand up, but I saw Damien's car approaching in my peripheral view. I smiled secretly, then…
I dropped to my knees, clutching at my chest, and let out a dramatic gasp. People panicked.
Damien's sleek black car pulled up just as I saw him emerge from the crowd, eyes narrowing as he spotted me. For a split second, I saw his eyes darken.
My heart pounded— not just from hunger, but from the thrill.
That's right. Be angry. Let people see who you are.
I clutched my head, standing up as wobbly as I could. I staggered forward, collapsing onto the pavement just in front of him. A gasp escaped from the crowd. Their whispers grew louder.
"Isn't that Lady Seres?" one whispered.
"Why is she wearing that?" another added.
"She's grown so thin."
Damien's face tightened. His eyes darted around, trying to mask the fury bubbling inside him.
"Help her!" someone shouted. The gossip began again, loud enough for him to hear. I smiled inwardly, satisfied with his reaction.
He approached, voice low but trembling with barely suppressed rage. "Stop it. You're humiliating yourself."
I lifted my head, eyes glassy, trying to feign innocence.
"How is it my fault that you didn't give me an allowance?" I rasped, voice trembling but loud enough. The crowd gasped—some smirked, some frowned. A lot of them judged.
I even wiped an invisible tear from my eyes as if everything he said was hurting me, for added dramatic effect. He shifted uncomfortably.
He pointed at my clothes, disgusted. "Why are you wearing that old thing?" he whispered.
I blinked innocently. "Isn't it what I usually wear?" I said softly, but with a hint of menace. The gossip escalated; whispers turned into outright chatter.
Finally, Damien begrudgingly pulled out his black card and offered it to me, reluctantly.
"Take it," he muttered, voice tight, defeated.
I took it from his hand, holding it like a prize.
"Don't worry, guys! It's just that my husband has been so busy these days." I glanced at his clenched jaw. "Maybe he just forgot to take care of his wife."
I flashed him a sweet smile.
He snapped. His face furious, and he stormed off into his company building like a child. I watched him enter the building until the door swallowed him, feeling the rush of triumph inside me.
"It's not much," I whispered, eyes gleaming, "but it's a start." I glanced up at the company logo, a small, victorious smile curling on my lips.
Then I turned, holding the black card in my hand.
I looked at the little thing, a sly, admiring smile forming on my lips. A black card is the equivalent of a finance minister's jaded token—I know that much. And with this, I can finally start my revenge.
"You know… I've got to thank you," I murmured softly. "Let's help each other a lot." I tapped the card and carefully stuffed it inside my pocket, failing to pay attention to my surroundings.
I bumped into something hard and fragrant. I looked up—a tall, broad-shouldered man towered over me, dressed impeccably in a suit that screamed confidence. His pecs strained against the fabric, hinting at hard muscle beneath. I recognize a well-trained man at a glance.
His hazel eyes—cold, calculating—studied me with a sharpness that made my skin crawl. Handsome? Yes. But my instinct told me he was also incredibly dangerous.
He glanced at me once, cold and dismissive, then walked past without a word.
"Rude," I muttered. I mean, it's partly my fault for not paying attention to the road, but he could've said something.
I looked back as I watched him walk away. I was about to proceed when a memory flashed in my mind.
I paused, looked back at the man's broad shoulder, and a smile curled on my lips. There it was—the final piece of the puzzle.
"I found you."