Rosie's footsteps faded into the distance as she returned to her room, her body still stiff, feigning sleepiness—her acting was truly clumsy, yet she thought she could fool me. I stood in the kitchen doorway, my gaze fixed on her closed door, the faint, cold smile I had been trying so hard to conceal finally appearing on my face. Every word of her phone call to Henderson echoed clearly in my mind: twenty million dollars, the White Rose account, no information related to her, transfer by tomorrow afternoon. She thought she was so clever, secretly hiding her spare phone in her boots and bank drafts under her mattress—as if I hadn't been watching her for weeks. From the moment she started getting up before dawn and wearing that ridiculous hat and mask every time she went out, I knew she was plotting something. I just hadn't expected her to act so quickly, nor that she would dare to steal money from her own trust fund without her parents' knowledge. But none of that mattered anymore. Her recklessness was my opportunity; I had already planned how to retaliate. Rosie, and even Sarah, have no idea that I've already experienced all of this—three months of relentless rain, the city flooded, and me struggling to survive the chaos because I failed to seize the Carter family's wealth. I knew when the storm would begin and how devastating the floods would be, but I never told anyone—not even Sarah. She was just a tool, a pawn, used to maintain a facade, to make Rosie believe we were a bickering but loyal couple. I didn't love her, never; keeping her around was far easier than dealing with her hysteria now than abandoning her now. She's greedy, foolish, and easily manipulated; her obsession with money will keep her under control—that's exactly what I want.
I turned and went back to the bedroom, gently closing the door so as not to wake Sarah—at least not yet. She was still snoring, mouth agape, as useless as ever. I'd wake her in a minute, tell her what I'd heard, but only say things to get her to listen, without revealing my true identity—certainly not that I'd been reborn, nor that I knew exactly when the world would end. I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers tapping lightly on the mattress, my thoughts racing. Rosie's mistake wasn't her greed or naiveté—it was her arrogance. She thought I was just a greedy fool, obsessed with her family's money, too lazy or too stupid to see through her lies. She underestimated me, and that was fatal. I've never been in it all for the money—at least not entirely. The Carter name, the power that comes with it, and control over the company her grandfather built—that's what I want. Money is just a means, a guarantee that I can weather the storm and ultimately prevail. Rosie's petty theft gave me what I wanted—everything I'd always dreamed of without any effort, not even having to offend her parents. Sarah would certainly help me—she'd do anything for a share, even if she didn't realize that I'd discard her without hesitation once she was no longer of use. Her loyalty was bought, not earned, making her predictable and safe.
I know that White Rose account inside and out—Henderson opened it years ago for Rosie's grandmother, and I've been tracking it for months. It's untraceable, has no connection to the Carter family's main accounts, and is the perfect hiding place for money. Rosie thinks it's safe with this account, but she doesn't know I have an acquaintance at a private trust bank in Chicago—someone who owes me a favor and will notify me immediately once the $20 million arrives. Once the money arrives, I have two options: either hack the account myself (I've been practicing my hacking skills, just in case), or blackmail her acquaintance to transfer the money to an account I control. Either way, the money will be mine before she has the opportunity to hire the security team she's surely planning. Knowing the money is about to arrive gives me an advantage others don't—I don't have to rush, I don't have to take unnecessary risks. I can wait, I can wait for the right moment, letting Rosie gather supplies and find a safe house. I'll make her efforts futile, and then strike at the last minute, taking everything she's built—just like I was meant to do in my past life. This time, I won't make the same mistake again. I won't trust Sarah too much, and I won't let her greed ruin my plans. If she behaves herself, I'll give her a little something, nothing more—not a threat whatsoever.
Sarah's faint stirrings from the bedroom pulled Ethan back from his thoughts—he knew it was time to rouse her, to feed her just enough lies to keep her compliant. He stood slowly, tiptoeing to her bed, and kicked her foot lightly, not bothering to soften his tone. "Wake up. We have work to do." Sarah jolted awake, her eyes bleary with sleep, and glared at him, but the greed in her gaze flickered to life the moment she remembered their unspoken deal—money, power, survival. "What? It's still early," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, but she was already sitting up, her mind racing to catch up. Ethan didn't waste time with pleasantries; vulnerability from her was useless to him, and honesty was even more so. "Rosie's moving faster than I thought. She just called Henderson—secretly withdrawing $20 million from her trust fund, into that untraceable white rose account her grandmother set up. And she already has $5 million in cash checks from her grandmother, hidden somewhere in the apartment." Sarah's eyes widened, and she leaned forward, all sleepiness vanishing. "$20 million? Plus $5 million? She actually pulled it off? I thought her parents froze all her access!" Ethan snorted, leaning against the wall, feigning indifference to mask the calculation in his eyes. "They did—but she's smarter than we gave her credit for. Stupid, but smart enough to manipulate Henderson. But it doesn't matter. I have a contact at the bank—he'll tell me the second the $20 million hits her account. And I'll find those cash checks, sooner or later. What's more, I know the truth—three months from now, endless rain will come, the city will drown, and the world as we know it will end. Rosie is buying supplies and looking for a safe house with that money, and we're going to take it all from her." Sarah licked her lips, her greed practically oozing from every pore. "Strike how? Do we confront her? Steal the checks she already has?" Ethan shook his head, amused by her impulsiveness—exactly why she's just a pawn. "Confront her now, and she'll go into hiding. Steal the checks, and we'll leave traces. We wait. Let her feel safe, let her think she's outsmarted us. She'll use that money to buy supplies, to scout and secure a safe house—all the things we need to survive the flood. And when she's done, when she's exhausted and off guard, we take it all. Every penny, every supply, every safe place she's found. I don't know where her safe house will be yet, but I'll follow her, track her every move, and find it before the flood hits."