Chapter 1

As a professional boxer, I was famous for two things: my vicious left hook and my lethal, foul-mouthed trash talk.

Relying on my elite fighting skills and a tongue dipped in pure venom, I became a viral internet sensation.

Just as I was riding high on my newfound fame, an accident sent me transmigrating into a twisted, high-society romance novel about swapped heiresses.

I ended up as the tragic real daughter—the kind of gutless, crying doormat destined to be framed, abused, and having her organs stolen while never even standing up for herself.

Looking at the smug, entitled fake heiress, I cracked my knuckles and went to work, slapping sense into her with both hands to clean up the family trash.

When the delusional billionaire CEO gave me his greasy, arrogant smirk and claimed I was just acting out to get his attention,

I swung my backhand and sent him flying into next week.

One second, I was tearing into slimy paparazzi at an awards gala, taking down every bottom-feeder trying to dig up dirt on me.

The next, I was dropped into an angsty, toxic melodramatic tragedy, stuck in the body of the biological daughter whose only purpose was to suffer and die for everyone else's character development.

Right now, the story’s golden-boy billionaire, Zach, was pointing his finger in my face, while the fake heiress, Chloe, was leaning against his shoulder, sobbing her little eyes out like an innocent angel.

"If you can't even handle basic PR, why the hell are you even her manager?" Zach barked. "Go out there right now and admit to the press that you were the one caught sneaking out of that hotel room yesterday! Not Chloe!"

I raised an eyebrow, my eyes drifting over the cozy pair. Right on cue, a shrill, robotic scream erupted in my head.

[Host, you must follow the rules of this world! You are bound to the original host’s tragic, passive persona. Complete the suffering, endure every humiliation, and only then can you return to your world!]

The system’s warning made me sneer out loud.

The original girl was the true heiress of the powerful Miller family. Even if a jealous nanny had swapped her at birth, royal blood was royal blood.

A toxic tragedy? Real versus fake heiress? Painful body-double romance?

Please. Once I rip their family fortune away and leave them in the gutter, they’ll learn to shut up.

I crossed my arms, looking Chloe up and down with utter contempt.

"Save the act, you little viper. You’ve been sneaking into his bed more times than anyone can count. Who are you trying to play the virgin saint for?"

Seeing me attack her, Zach panicked and quickly shielded Chloe behind him.

I cracked my knuckles, tilting my head up. "My bad. I got so caught up tearing into her that I almost forgot to roast you, pretty boy."

Both of them stared at me as if they’d seen a demon crawl out of hell. Outside the luxury trailer, a crowd of crew members, actors, and directors had gathered, whispering.

I cleared my throat and went full throttle.

"Dressed up in a three-piece suit like an actual human being, but when your dirty little secrets blow up, you don't even have the spine to own it? What a cowardly piece of trash. Trying to make a scapegoat take the fall for you? If there isn’t a mirror in this trailer, go piss on the floor and look at your own reflection. Check yourself before you open your filthy mouth."

Zach’s face flushed purple with rage. He lunged forward to grab me, but I whipped out my phone, shoving the camera straight in his face.

"The sterling Sterling family doesn’t own this entire city, sweetie. Think carefully before you throw a punch. Unless, of course, you want your little white lotus's career flushed down the toilet right here and now!"

Chloe was clearly terrified of losing her public image. She clung desperately to Zach's chest, playing the delicate victim.

"Sasha, I know you resent me... I know I’m not Mom and Dad’s real daughter, but I—"

"Oh, so you do know you’re a fake?" I cut her off coldly. "Then why the hell are you standing here acting like a fragile little angel? If you know you don't belong, pack your bags and get the hell out."

I leaned in and patted Chloe’s cheek with mocking condescension. Zach stepped up, furious, swinging his arm to slap my hand away.

Big mistake.

I caught his wrist in a vice grip, twisted it viciously, and used his own momentum to execute a textbook over-the-shoulder throw.

"BAM!"

He slammed onto the floor with a bone-jarring crash.

Chloe’s eyes bulged in horror. Even Zach, groaning on the ground, stared up at me in stunned disbelief.

I dusted off my hands, pushed open the trailer door, and stepped out.

The system’s piercing voice shrieked in my ears, making my temples throb with irritation.

[Host! How could you violate the core plot?! You’re supposed to swallow your tears! You have to suffer ultimate humiliation before you can go home!]

"Go home? Are you kidding?" I sneered internally. "The original girl is an heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was supposed to live in luxury with zero worries. If these parasites don't know their place, I'll just strip their assets and take out the trash. Problem solved."

[Host, your persona is the tragic true daughter whose death teaches her family remorse, not a ruthless criminal mastermind!]

I ignored the annoying voice in my head and stepped down from the trailer.

The hushed murmurs outside vanished instantly. The set fell dead silent.

I knew the deal: Chloe had been throwing her weight around the film set for months just because Zach was backing her. Talentless, obnoxious, but untouchable. Everyone hated her guts, but nobody had the balls to say a word.

Watching me rip them both apart had everyone looking at me with pure, unadulterated awe.

Leaving the set, I strolled into a nearby café, pulled up my phone, and checked the latest PR feeds.

Because I hadn’t stepped up to take the blame, the news of Chloe slipping into a luxury hotel with a mystery man was still clinging stubbornly to the number one trending spot on Twitter.

The original Sasha had spent years meticulously crafting Chloe’s public persona as the sweet, innocent "nation’s sweetheart." If that tower crumbled overnight, with the purest girl in showbiz revealed as a dirty little cheat, it would be the scandal of the century.

I sipped my iced coffee, my eyes narrowing.

Oh, so you want to drag someone down to take the hit? Let me help you bury yourselves instead.

While I was scrolling through the comments, the firestorm suddenly shifted directions.

Chloe’s rabid fan base had moved on from flaming my personal accounts—they were now spamming the agency’s official page, demanding that Chloe’s "innocence" be cleared.

I scoffed. If she were really clean, why wouldn’t she just show her face and prove it?

What I didn't expect, though, was just how utterly shameless she and Zach actually were.

Within minutes, an ultra-high-definition, heavily photoshopped image blasted straight to the top of the trending topics, completely eclipsing Chloe’s scandal.