Chapter 1
In my previous life, my private photos got exposed out of nowhere and went viral online.
Some creep trashed my convenience store.
My little brother, whom I struggled to raise, turned his back on me so he could marry rich.
I was cyberbullied, doxxed, and even got dog pee thrown at me out on the street.
At the end of my rope, I flung myself from the rooftop—despair swallowing me whole.
Then, the next thing I knew, I was standing outside an internet café's VIP booth, catching the jaw-dropping truth.
The person pulling all the strings behind my nightmare was my own flesh-and-blood little brother—the boy I'd raised and leaned on.
Peering through the crack of the door, I saw Chris—who'd always seemed so obedient—handing out my private photos to the guys in that smoke-filled VIP room.
"Look at that body. Still a virgin. She's the ultimate catch," Chris snickered.
The whole crowd burst into sleazy laughter. The fat guy just kept leering at the pictures, absolutely reveling in it.
"Chris, isn't your sister basically your personal ATM? Now that you've ruined her rep, forget about holding on to that supermarket—she won't even land a waitress job," the weasel-faced skinny guy sneered, raising an eyebrow.
Chris said, "She messed with my girl. Vivian is my golden ticket up the social ladder. If she tries to block my way, I don't care if she's family, sister or even mom, I'll make her regret it.
"That supermarket makes peanuts anyway. These days? Livestreams, call girls going door-to-door, those rake in cash way faster than running a store. I'm actually boosting her popularity, and soon I'll be her middleman, hooking her up with plenty of deals.
"She will have to thank me by then."
Then he whipped out his phone and tossed it onto the table. He said, "Got some unreleased videos too—who wants a preview? 3 bucks a pop."
Outside the door, I was shaking uncontrollably, pressing my hand so hard over my mouth I almost couldn't breathe. I was furious—my whole body tense—while tears poured down my face, blurring my vision.
Chris, the little brother I'd watched grow up—always the quiet, painfully shy kid—was now a sleazeball dripping with greed, saying the nastiest things without batting an eye. I just couldn't wrap my head around how he had turned into this monster.
My gaze landed on his designer jacket—the one I'd pinched pennies for two months just to get him. The only reason I'd done it was because he wanted to impress Vivian at some fancy Michelin-star restaurant.
Back then, Chris said, "Anna, being with Vivian isn't just about feelings. I want to help us break out of this class, move up together. Then you can finally chill at home and enjoy life."
I always said shortcuts weren't right, but his words did move me. I thought he remembered all the years I'd sacrificed—ditching college, straight out of high school into the grind, working three shifts a day to keep us going.
Inside the VIP booth, the trash talk was still flying.
"Chris, what if your sister figures out you're the scumbag who screwed her over?" the skinny dude snickered, taking a long drag.
Chris just laughed louder. He sneered, "Who cares? My old man jumped, my mom got sick, and kicked it. Before they croaked, both made her swear that taking care of me was her one true purpose.
"Is she gonna become the ungrateful daughter and spit on our folks' last wish? Plus, two years back, she bled herself dry just to put down the deposit for my apartment.
"I snuck in over twenty pinhole cams while she wasn't looking. All that's finally coming in handy. If she wants to go against me, she'll end up with nowhere to go—probably sleeping under a bridge."
His words stabbed into me over and over, each one a fresh slice across my soul. I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug in, sending sharp jolts of pain shooting through my hands.
Vivian's face flickered through my mind.
She was the Carter heiress Chris tried to impress—using my misery just to score points with her.
I'd seen her before—dripping head to toe in designer gear, standing outside my tiny shop with pure disgust written all over her face.
Chris said her folks were making her tough it out on her own, so he begged me to give her a part-time gig, even offering to pay her 6 grand a month.
I really didn't want to. I said, "It's a small-time business. There's barely any profit in it."
Vivian just turned her head away and gave a cold, dismissive snort.
Chris looked uncomfortable, tugged me to the side, his eyes full of desperate pleading like he was begging for his life.
I felt bad for Chris, so I caved and kept Vivian on. But I never expected this spoiled princess to swipe every penny from the register her very first day and start mouthing off to my customers.
Vivian sneered, "Seriously, what kind of bumpkins can't even tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi?"
Vivian was always slacking off, making up lame excuses, and, without fail, lying through her teeth.
If a customer paid for a whole case of Coke, she'd claim they'd only bought a single can and stuffed the rest of the cash straight into her pocket.
The restaurant next door booked a birthday party with us, dropped 6 grand on drinks, but Vivian slept in and never even opened the store.
She ruined their event, lost us a loyal customer, and we had to eat the whole 6-thousand loss—all thanks to her screwup.
I couldn't hold back anymore and snapped at her. She immediately ran to Chris, sobbing about how tough her life was, and painted me as some petty, cold-hearted villain who was impossible to deal with.
I finally had enough and kicked her out for good. Vivian started whining to Chris, putting on that poor little rich girl act, making me look like the absolute worst.
It was the first time in our lives that Chris and I really blew up at each other.
I cut off his allowance and told him to find work, anywhere that would hire him.
Never thought he'd refuse to go, turning around to stab me in the back just to make Vivian happy.
Standing in the doorway, I felt invisible hands strangling me from the inside—pain crushing my chest so hard I thought I might suffocate. Their sleazy laughter and jabs kept echoing in my head, impossible to shut out.