Chapter 2
"You don't need to come with me. Mr. Flynn doesn't want to see your face."
I nodded quickly.
Honestly, this was the best solution.
Whatever, she could just smash it.
I couldn't wait to see if she'd actually land herself a rich husband or just end up buried in debt.
Guess she was just scared.
While we waited, Christine made small talk with me, chatting on and off without much focus.
"Jessica, do you know what kind of women Mr. Flynn likes? Do his ex-girlfriends look anything like me?
"Hey, if I smash his car, do you think he'll actually sue me?"
As she spoke, Christine was quietly googling news on her phone, trying not to let me notice.
She also checked out all the latest articles about the CEO.
Dennis Flynn was born into wealth, but after graduation, he went out on his own and single-handedly built a business empire.
To outsiders, he was the ultimate eligible bachelor, the top pick for anyone hoping to marry rich.
After all, being a rich kid simply meant being born into money. But marrying Dennis made her the wife of a self-made tycoon, and gave her the chance to inherit the entire empire one day.
All of that was true, but there was one thing that was different.
Without saying a word, I took her phone and searched for "smashing luxury cars."
The page loaded in a flash.
For someone like her, who was totally into those "dominant CEO falls for me" fantasies, the algorithm served up the perfect content.
The videos were all viral success stories about girls who smashed luxury cars and ended up marrying CEOs. The comments section was full of people shipping the couples.
Some viewers even bragged that they'd played the same role and managed to hook their own bosses.
After seeing all that, Christine was totally convinced.
She flopped onto the couch, chilling and casually playing with her phone.
To prove she meant business, she picked up the phone right in front of me and jumped in before the manager could even say a word.
"I'll quit," Christine snapped.
Hearing her self-satisfied laugh, I instinctively shrank back a bit.
The manager was so shocked by her attitude, and he started yelling right away.
"You idiot, you really think the company can't run without you? If you don't want the job, there are plenty of people who do," he snapped.
Christine scoffed, totally unimpressed.
"That's just the fate of you corporate drones. Me? I'm destined to be Mrs. Flynn," she said.
After hanging up, she shot me a look, then glanced at the proposal I'd pulled an all-nighter to finish.
Christine sneered, "Seriously, why bother working so hard? You're just gonna be an office grunt for the rest of your life.
"Instead of wasting your time, you should try sucking up to me, the future Mrs. Flynn. Who knows, if I'm feeling generous, maybe I'll set you up with a rich guy. He won't be as awesome as my husband, but it's way better than slaving away all night."
I nodded frantically, my head bobbing like a bobblehead.
Christine narrowed her eyes. "So, you're saying no? You think my plan's stupid and I won't become Mrs. Flynn?"
Meeting her gaze, I touched my own face.
I said, "Christine, I'm not delusional. I know what I look like. Rich guys would never go for someone like me.
"If you really want to help, just say something nice about me to the boss every now and then. Make my life as an office grunt a little easier, that's all I ask."
My words obviously amused Christine. She stroked her chin, circling me and clicking her tongue in mock approval.
"Jessica, not to be mean, but look at you. You've really let yourself go. Your folks must be mortified having a daughter like you," Christine sneered.
I just muttered a quiet "yeah," my heart stinging with embarrassment.
We weren't rich by any means, and I'd always been frail since childhood.
My parents kept urging me to eat more, believing a little extra weight meant good fortune and better health.
In my last life, after graduating college, I got a decent job, and with my parents' love, I finally started getting healthy.
But thanks to Christine's mess, I died way too young, and my parents were so devastated they just wasted away until they starved to death.
It all came down to her.
I pushed down the rage boiling inside me.
Christine tossed her phone aside, patted down her clothes, grabbed her little sabotage kit, and strutted out with a self-satisfied grin.
"Don't get too jealous, Jessica. That's just fate for you," she tossed back.
The door slammed shut, and I glued my eyes to my phone, waiting for any updates in the neighborhood group chat.
Half an hour later, the group chat was dead silent.
Then Christine posted on her social media.
In the picture, she was standing in front of the wrecked luxury car, hugging her little hammer, grinning from ear to ear.
[The news was right. Just wait, soon I'll be a rich wife for real.]
In the comments, she even showed off a photo of Dennis.
All our relatives started blowing up the comments, praising and flattering her in the feed.
I was so shocked I dropped my phone, my face going ghostly pale.
I wondered if Dennis really fell for her.
A few minutes later, Christine came knocking on the door, still clutching her little hammer, her face lit up with excitement.
She said, "Jessica, I knew I was right! The second Dennis saw me, he was totally blown away. He couldn't stop staring at me.
"He even added me on his contacts. He's definitely planning to get closer."