Chapter 2

Her face completely cracked.

"The cops?"

She stared at me in disbelief. "I didn't break the law! What right do you have to call the police on me?"

"Does trespassing on private property count as breaking the law?"

I leaned casually against the doorframe. "You're standing right outside my door. I told you to leave and you refused. That counts as harassment in my book."

Zoe looked at me as if I were a total stranger.

In her mind, Chloe Miller was always an easy pushover—someone you could squeeze dry and never get any pushback.

Too bad for her. The Chloe standing here today was a vengeful ghost clawing her way back from the grave.

"Fine. You're ruthless." She wiped her tears, her real colors finally showing.

It was the petty rage of someone whose con had just been exposed.

She turned around, dragging her suitcases toward the elevator.

Halfway there, she glared back at me: "Chloe, you will regret this."

I smiled brightly.

"The only thing I regret is ever meeting you."

The elevator doors slid shut, and the hallway fell into silence.

I shut my door, leaned back against it, and took a deep, shaky breath.

My hands were trembling.

Not out of fear, but pure, burning rage.

The memories of my past life were so vivid that I could recall every single detail.

Those photos had been taken while I was in the shower.

Zoe told me her phone was broken and asked to borrow my laptop to look up some information.

I trusted her and gave her my password.

Only later did I find out she never needed my laptop. She used the chance to plant a hidden camera in my bathroom.

Once those photos were leaked online, my entire life came crashing down.

She sold my private photos for quick cash, and they eventually spread all across the web.

The comments were disgusting.

"Who is this chick? Body's not bad."

"Heard she's a corporate manager. Looks classy on the outside, but acts cheap behind closed doors."

"With leaks like this, you know she's dirty."

I tried to explain, but no one listened.

HR called me in, saying my personal scandal ruined the company's reputation, and pushed me to resign quietly.

My supervisor, Brenda, a woman in her forties, looked at me with open disgust: "Chloe, I never thought you were that kind of person."

My parents rushed over from my hometown. The moment my mom saw the online comments, she broke down in tears.

My dad slapped me across the face, shouting that I had disgraced the entire family.

They didn't even want to hear my side of the story.

To them, whatever was posted on the internet was the absolute truth.

I tried desperately to reach Zoe, begging her to clear my name.

Her phone was turned off.

I only found out later that it was planned all along. She made thousands of dollars off my misery.

I went to the police. They told me the photos were secretly recorded, but there wasn't enough proof to track the perpetrator immediately.

Before I could take any legal action, Zoe pushed me off the balcony, killing me on impact.

The next morning, when I woke up, my phone had over twenty unread messages.

All from Zoe.

Sent between two in the morning and six, one every few minutes.

"Chloe, I'm sorry. I was just overly emotional last night."

"I talked it over with my boyfriend. He's looking for a job. I'll only stay with you temporarily and move out as soon as he gets hired."

"I'll pay rent, two hundred dollars a week, okay?"

"Chloe, please, I'm begging you."

Each message was more humble and pathetic than the last.

In my past life, my heart would have melted instantly.

Now, it just made me want to throw up.

I took screenshots of everything, saved them, and blocked her number.

But I knew it wouldn't end here.

Zoe was the kind of leech that never let go until she sucked you dry.