Chapter 1

I used to play people like a fiddle. A smile here, a sigh there, and things just fell into my lap.

However, when I married into a prominent and wealthy family, those talents initially seemed unnecessary.

My husband, Edward Grant, was utterly devoted. He remained by my side without any prompting.

My father-in-law, Richard, was the stereotypical silent and formidable executive. We had never exchanged more than a few polite words.

My mother-in-law, Victoria, presented herself as a stern socialite, but in reality, she was rather naive and exceedingly generous. With minimal effort, I found myself firmly in her favor.

Finding myself with considerable free time, I began offering private instruction at the family estate. For a significant fee, I taught social graces and refined arts, such as floral design.

Life was luxurious and uncomplicated.

That changed the day Olivia Green returned. She was a childhood friend of Richard's, arriving unexpectedly from overseas.

Victoria, who was my primary benefactor, was completely unprepared for her. The situation rattled her so deeply that she privately considered divorce.

That was the moment I knew I could no longer remain a spectator. I decided to intervene.

*****

Growing up during the era of those sweet, innocent television heroines, I was always drawn to the scheming, sharp-tongued antagonists, the kind of character one loved to hate.

I studied and perfected their every move, eventually surpassing them all.

I became a true master of social navigation.

A simple glance or a smile could make men attentive and eager.

Opponents, whether they presented themselves as saintly or tough, inevitably lost their footing when they challenged me. The outcome was certain.

Using these finely honed, self-taught skills, I overcame every obstacle and secured a marriage into the prestigious Grant family.

I became the lawfully wedded wife of Edward Grant, the heir to a considerable fortune.

The day I married into the Grant family, I was on edge, every nerve taut like a loaded gun, ready for all-out family warfare.

But it was like punching a pillow. Nothing happened.

All those mean, controlling in-laws from TV dramas? Total fiction.

My father-in-law, Richard, was a man of few words, the archetypal silent and stern CEO. He never spoke a single word to me.

Victoria, my mother-in-law, looked like a cold, unapproachable ice queen, but in reality, she was just a socially anxious wallflower.

One day, I noticed she looked tired, so I brought my homemade cookies to cheer her up.

She stayed silent for a long time, quietly finished the soup, and finally managed a soft "thank you."

The next day, a huge sum of money showed up in my account. The note read: [Thanks for what you've done for me.]

It was then that I realized Victoria was more than just my mother-in-law. She was, quite unexpectedly, my personal patron saint.

From then on, I started using the same moves I used to win Edward's heart.

When she arranged flowers, I'd gush, "Wow, this looks straight out of a painting."

If she was buried in financial reports, I'd cheer her on: "With concentration like that, you'd have Warren Buffett taking notes."

Even when she just switched lipstick shades, I'd exclaim, "Wow, look who's so pretty? I wish I'd marry you."

A few months later, the payoff was unreal. I'd basically turned her into my personal ATM.

She started dragging me out shopping constantly, hitting luxury stores like they were the local supermarket. She'd just hand me her card and tell me to go wild.

Even the experienced housekeepers were impressed. They kept asking me how I did it.

I just smiled and started a group chat right then. [Opening a few spots for exclusive mentorship. Learn the real secrets of making an impression.]

The sign-ups came pouring in immediately.

Life rolled on smoothly, me living in luxury and dripping in diamonds.

That was, until Olivia Green came back. She was Richard's ride-or-die friend from way back, and she'd been overseas for years.

Richard went to the airport to pick her up himself.

We hosted her welcome dinner at our house. I came downstairs, still a little sleepy, and finally got a look at the legendary Olivia. One glance told me everything.

She was the ultimate "buddy" type with a harp, tailored suit, sleek short hair, and makeup that was polished but never over the top. In her forties, but with skincare that good, she could easily pass for early thirties.

She gave Richard a hearty slap on the shoulder, laughing loudly. "Rich! Still looking handsome as ever. Does Father Time just skip you?

"And Victoria, about to be a grandmother and still stunning. Must be nice not having to work. Look at me, running the company nonstop. No wonder I'm starting to look my age."

It was a classic low-EQ move, basically calling Victoria a pampered housewife right to her face. But Richard, completely oblivious, just jumped in and said she hadn't aged a day, still the same as ever.

Victoria, never one for comebacks, could only force a smile and play along.