Chapter 2

The media shifted all their firepower onto me, and nasty rumors started spreading like wildfire.

I zoomed in on the picture and let out a cold laugh.

To scrub Chloe’s name clean, they actually had their tech department fake a lewd picture of me. They were completely fine with destroying their own daughter’s reputation in broad daylight.

The original girl really was cursed with a family from hell.

I studied the picture carefully. The "me" in the frame was sprawled across a bed, cheeks flushed red, one shoulder bare under dim, sensual hotel lighting. It left nothing to the imagination—a textbook leak from a one-night stand.

With the internet already on edge, this single picture pushed me right to the center of a public execution.

My phone began buzzing relentlessly. Creepy texts and gross DMs from sleazy directors and producers flooded my screen, filled with vile, suggestive propositions.

Disgusted, I screenshotted every single one of them. Then, I texted Maya, the original girl’s loyal assistant—the only person in this entire circus who actually cared about her, and the only reason the original Sasha had survived the family's endless abuse for so long.

Maya caught on immediately. She went right to work, compiling the names, numbers, and messages into an organized hit list.

I ignored the filth piling up on my screen. With the scandal exploding, the agency finally reached out to handle crisis PR—not to protect me, of course, but only because they panicked when Chloe was caught at that hotel.

Now that they had me as their convenient scapegoat, nobody gave a damn whether I lived or died.

Just as I logged into an alt account, ready to go to war in the comment sections, a text from Chloe popped up on my phone.

[Sasha, I feel so awful about what happened earlier. I really want to apologize. Please come to this address, dinner is on me.]

Classic Chloe. Whenever she apologized, it was pure manipulation, completely hollow.

In the past, taking the original Sasha out for a cheap meal was all it took for the poor girl to run back, forgiving her completely.

The original had sacrificed everything to pave the way for this ungrateful family, only to end up branded as a dirty, promiscuous pariah, despised by the entire world.

I swiped through the address she sent, smirking. An invitation to a trap? Don't mind if I do.

The moment I arrived at the secluded location, I caught a shadow moving behind me in the corner of my eye. As a trained fighter, my senses were razor-sharp.

I deliberately slowed my pace, strolling directly into the blind spot of a nearby security camera. Right on cue, a cloth drenched in chloroform clamped down over my mouth and nose.

Feigning a weak struggle, I allowed myself to go limp and let them drag me into the back of an idling van.

To move on me this fast, they had to be desperate to bury the online outrage.

The van rattled down the road for what felt like twenty minutes. My eyes were blindfolded, and rough hands hauled me out, dragging me up an elevator before tossing me onto a plush, soft mattress.

A luxury hotel suite.

To scrub Chloe’s dirty laundry clean, Zach really went all out. He didn’t hesitate to drug and kidnap me—his lawful fiancée—just to ruin my virtue on camera and divert the public's eyes.

Heavy, ragged breathing echoed beside my ear. A heavy body lunged forward, pinning my wrists to the bed. My eyes snapped open behind the blindfold.

With a lethal snap of my wrists, I broke his grip, wrapped my fingers around his throat, and slammed him down beneath me with vicious precision.

I ripped off the blindfold to reveal a bleached-blonde street thug. His skin was burning hot, his breathing ragged and erratic. He was clearly pumped full of heavy narcotics.

My eyes landed on an empty glass vial on the carpet. Vile trash.

The thug clearly didn't expect a scrawny girl to have the grip strength of an Olympic wrestler. He lashed out, kicking wildly toward my ribs.

I dodged effortlessly, grabbed the discarded dress shirt off the floor, and tied his hands securely behind his back in seconds. Then, I snatched up the leftover pills scattered near the nightstand and shoved them straight down his throat.

Picking up my phone from the floor, I heard Chloe’s sweet, calculated voice note play through the speaker.

"Sasha? I'm at the restaurant, where are you? Are you still mad at me?"

"Sasha, even if you're upset with me, you shouldn't have run off to a hotel with some random guy! The whole internet is talking about it! Don't you know you were photographed?"