Chapter 2

Richard was shaking with rage, pointing at the guys. "Get them out!"

I tilted my head, looking troubled.

"But Mr. Foster, I already paid for them. If I send them away now, wouldn't that be wasteful?"

"Your money?" he sneered, like I'd just cracked the biggest joke ever. "Emily, let me make one thing clear. Not a single penny you own is truly yours."

His words hit like a poisoned blade, cutting straight to my memories from last life.

Yeah. What did I ever really have?

I was just a caged bird, eating and drinking whatever he gave. Even my life was something he plucked from an orphanage and tossed to me as an act of charity.

Guess I deserved to jump in front of that truck for him. Always just a "plaything" to him.

Hatred churned in my chest, but my smile only got sweeter.

"Oh, that's right—it's all your money, Mr. Foster," I said.

I stood up, walked right up to him, and stood on tiptoe, tracing my fingers over his Adam's apple.

"So really, every penny I spend is just doing you a favor.

"Showing everyone how generous and considerate you are, Mr. Foster."

My voice was soft, teasing, like a feather stroking his raw nerves.

Richard froze, breath catching.

He grabbed my wrist, grip crushing. "What on earth are you trying to do?"

"Nothing." I slipped free and turned to grab a Hermès Birkin from the couch. "I just realized—women should pamper themselves.

"Oh, and this bag? Limited edition. Bought it yesterday with your card. Like it?"

Richard stared at that orange box, temples pounding.

For the first time ever, he realized he couldn't control me at all.

He wanted to explode, but realized that I couldn't care less.

He tried to use money to humiliate me, but I flipped the script and used his money to humiliate him instead.

Finally, through clenched teeth, he growled, "Get them all out of here!"

"Alright," I said, pretending to be bummed as I shrugged. Then I waved at the eight guys. "Alright, hotties, we're done for today. All paid up. Maybe next time!"

The guys scurried away as if pardoned.

Just Richard and me left in the living room. The tension was suffocating.

He probably thought I'd be scared, that I'd apologize and plead with him to calm down—just like before, every time he lost his temper.

But I just poured myself a glass of red wine, swirling it slowly in my hand.

"Anything else, Mr. Foster? If not, I'm going to take a bath. Just bought some new essential oils—supposed to be great for skin."

With that, I walked past him with catlike grace and headed upstairs.

I could feel his burning gaze on my back.

Richard, this was just the opening act.

All the pain you gave me? Get ready to suffer a hundred, a thousand times worse.

The next day, Richard froze my secondary card.

He thought that would be enough to choke off my lifeline.

He really didn't know me at all.

Or maybe he never cared enough to try.

Five years at his side taught me more than just how to keep him happy. I learned plenty just by watching and listening.

Like how to turn money into more money.

When Richard froze my card, I grabbed all the jewelry and designer bags he'd given me, boxed them up, and sold them to a luxury resale shop.

Instead of blowing the cash, I invested every cent in the last place he'd expect—stocks in his arch-rival's company.

In my past life, I knew Richard leaked damaging rumors to tank their stock price.

But he never saw it coming when they fought back. Foster Holdings ended up losing millions.

This time, I bought in at rock bottom. Perfect timing.

With what was left, I founded a charity—Emily's Hope Foundation.

I donated the entire three million I'd made from my insider knowledge. All of it.

Then I hosted a lavish charity gala under the foundation's name and invited every media outlet in town.

I showed up in a white gown, makeup soft and natural, with tears in my eyes as I shared my story—escaping the orphanage, grateful for every opportunity.

"None of this would be possible without someone's help." I smiled warmly at the camera, keeping it classy.

"He's too busy to be here tonight, but I still want to say thank you.

"Thank you, Mr. Foster. You taught me how amazing it feels to help others."

Although I didn't say his full name, everyone knew exactly who I meant.

Overnight, headlines exploded: [Foster Holdings CEO's Secret Girlfriend Turns Out to Be Charity Angel.]

My image flipped from a kept woman to a beautiful, kind-hearted, independent philanthropist.

And Richard? The ultimate financial backer, quietly supporting his girlfriend's charity work.

Foster Holdings' stock rose two points from the positive press alone.

I could just imagine the look on Richard's face when he saw the news. Priceless.

He wanted to keep me as a caged bird, singing only for him. But I was determined to soar in the skies like an eagle.

He tried to define me with money? I turned his cash into my own shining reputation.

Sure enough, he came home that night.

He slammed the newspaper down in front of me, his eyes bloodshot.

"What's your game this time, Emily?"

I was reviewing the foundation's financials on my tablet. I looked up, genuinely confused.

"What game? I'm just doing what I believe is right," I replied.

"You're using my reputation as your stepping stone?"

"Mr. Foster, how is this using you?" I closed my tablet and met his eyes, all serious. "I'm just helping you rack up good karma. You make all that money—if you never give back, you'll be damned for it."

"You—" Richard was speechless with fury.

I stood, walked over, and adjusted his tie. Slow, deliberate movements.

"Don't be angry. See? Everyone's praising you. Isn't that good?"

He grabbed my hand, grip crushing. "I'm warning you, Emily. Don't push my buttons."

I just smiled, "Your buttons? You mean your first love, Grace Lynn?"

Richard's expression darkened instantly.