Chapter 2
I recoiled in fright and hurried to explain. "I'm not pregnant. I was just carsick."
James's eyes darkened even more. "You never get carsick."
Charlotte really didn't, but I said Emily often did.
I was fine in an off-roader, but the second I got into a sedan, I almost always threw up.
"I've never had a problem before, but today I felt sick," I insisted.
Worried he wouldn't believe me, I offered to go buy a pregnancy test.
"No need. There's one at home," he said.
I froze. He actually had a pregnancy test ready. Had he stashed it just to catch me in the act?
James was terrifying. If I were actually pregnant, would he kill me and dump my body somewhere remote?
He shoved the test into my hand. "Take it now."
Under his unquestioning stare, I awkwardly hitched up my skirt.
If the test came back positive, I planned to admit the soul swap.
Getting back to Ryan would be awful, but it would be better than being killed by James.
Fortunately, I wasn't pregnant.
James's expression softened considerably; the murderous look in his eyes evaporated.
"If you're not feeling well, don't cook. We'll order takeout," he said.
He'd misunderstood me and yet didn't offer an apology.
Not cooking counted as an apology?
Fine, I'd take it. I had no bargaining power anyway.
James drove a million-dollar car, lived in a multimillion-dollar house, and managed projects worth hundreds of millions.
I was just a regular employee, working hard for about three thousand dollars a month.
My parents were from the countryside. They couldn't help me; in fact, they regularly asked me for three hundred dollars a month for living expenses, and they wanted extra money for holidays and birthdays.
Sometimes, they even faked illnesses to squeeze money out of me.
Over five years since graduation, I'd transferred them at least tens of thousands of dollars. I hadn't saved a cent.
Ryan had been a college classmate. His family situation was similar to mine, but because he was a man, his parents supported him.
He didn't have to send money home, and every month his mom sent him an extra one thousand dollars.
Many coworkers praised Ryan's loyalty, praising that even with his fame, he hadn't dumped me. I snorted.
However, I handled all his scripts and video edits.
I'd gone with him to the hospital for plastic surgery, body sculpting, injections, and liposuction.
Even though Ryan earned a lot, he spent more than ten thousand dollars a month at the clinic alone.
Beyond that, he loved checking into trendy influencer restaurants, buying luxury goods, and picking up motorcycle gear.
Some months, he burned through tens of thousands.
When he ran out of money, he slid into the DMs of his biggest fans.
He flirted with them and went on trips with them.
He thought he was covering his tracks, but I knew everything.
Honestly, I was a little glad we'd swapped souls. Being the girlfriend of a tyrant was easier than being the wife of a scumbag.
I was done being Ryan's unpaid maid.
Even though James told me to rest, I still cooked.
He wasn't my boyfriend; he was my sugar daddy.
He hated takeout. No matter how tired I was, I cooked for him.
It was a professional obligation.
Just as the food came to a boil, Charlotte called from Ryan's number.
"What's your phone lock code?" she asked.
My phone held a lot of documents and videos, all the raw material for Ryan's edits.
For security, I hadn't enabled Face ID.
Charlotte was lazy; her phone and tablet all used Face ID.
Since our bodies were swapped, everything else had to be swapped, too.
I told Charlotte to give me her bank cards and passwords for her social accounts.
In return, I handed over everything of mine.
Charlotte wasn't happy about it.
"Don't you dare touch my stuff," she snapped.
"Then we have nothing to talk about," I replied.
Right now, she was the one who needed me, not the other way around.
Charlotte understood that, so she had no choice but to back down.
To get back at me, she deliberately described her intimacy with Ryan.
"I just tested out your husband," she said smugly. "He's a great kisser. We're about to start livestreaming. Are you going to watch?
"My advice? Put it on mute and hide under the covers. If James finds out, you're screwed. He's so rough in bed I've ended up in the hospital several times."
Sometimes I really couldn't figure Charlotte out.
Who in their right mind went around talking about their sex life?
At first, I thought she was humble-bragging about how amazing her boyfriend was.
Later, I realized she was just venting.
Still, what she considered suffering would be another woman's lifelong dream.
After swapping secrets, I wanted to learn a little more about James's preferences from her.
He might have been difficult, but he was generous with money, easy to handle, and never cheated.
My job was stable, but the pay was far too low.
I was planning to launch a livestreaming channel, but the startup required a big investment in equipment and promotion.
Charlotte's thirty thousand dollars in her bank account wouldn't even cover the basics.
"I have no idea what he likes to eat. I only ever cook what I like. He eats whatever I make," Charlotte said.
That sounded exactly like her.
No wonder after three years together, and with James already thirty-two, he hadn't considered marrying her.
The fridge had only eggs, tomatoes, green peppers, and a small piece of beef tenderloin.
I whipped up silky egg tarts, omelets with a savory-sweet kick, beef stew with peppers in a spicy-tangy sauce, and lightly sweet stuffed tomato egg boats.
With that many dishes, at least one had to be his favorite.
And if he enjoyed my cooking, maybe he wouldn't treat me so harshly afterward.