Chapter 3

The entire room fell dead silent. No one expected me to confess so easily.

Chloe stammered, trying to find more words to humiliate me, but I turned around and walked straight out of the banquet hall, giving her no chance to spin her web further.

The moment I got back to the modest apartment I had rented to "experience normal life," I opened my shopping apps.

Chloe probably thought my lack of resistance meant I was planning something. But as she watched her bank account balance swell, she couldn't help but gloat.

She immediately sent me a message on Snapchat: *"Sera, the team says you need to prove your apology. Order 100 deluxe organic catering boxes to the office tomorrow."*

I sneered and replied with a simple, *"Sure."*

I ordered the most expensive catering boxes available.

But the moment the delivery driver dropped them off at the front desk, I immediately logged onto the app and clicked "Refund - Wrong Address/Item Spoiled."

I didn't stop there. I went on Amazon and luxury retail apps, buying millions of dollars worth of designer gear, and immediately filed "Chargeback" disputes and "Item Not Received" refunds.

With a few clicks, the hundreds of thousands of dollars I had just "spent" flowed right back into my bank accounts.

In the distance, I could practically hear Chloe's panicked thoughts.

*【What the hell? Why is my ledger app showing a random catering purchase? And why can't I delete this refund history?!】*

I knew it!

To perfectly replicate my transaction history, her spyware automatically generated matching records on her device. But a refund bypasses the spyware’s routing, leaving an indelible, undeletable digital trail of fraud on her phone!

I wanted to scream with joy.

Chloe was in for a wild ride.

Over the next few days, I went on a massive three-million-dollar shopping spree.

And for every single purchase—from cheap snacks and makeup to limited-edition luxury bags, designer gowns, and even a foreclosed suburban property—I exploited the instant-refund and chargeback loophole.

Still, a lingering anxiety remained.

Remembering how my health had suddenly collapsed in my past life, I decided to head back to my family’s actual estate over the weekend to investigate.

But the moment I pushed open the grand double doors of my mansion, I froze.

Chloe and Jackson were throwing a wild party in my living room, surrounded by a crowd of my coworkers.

When they saw me, their faces immediately twisted in disgust.

"Oh, Sera. You're back," Chloe said. She was wearing one of my custom-tailored designer gowns, casually swirling a glass of 1992 Chateau Lafite. She walked toward me with mock elegance.

"It’s Jackson’s birthday today. He really wanted to have his party at my family's estate, so I brought him and the team over. We actually drank through the entire wine cellar. Go order a few more cases of the '92 Lafite right now."

I stared at her glowing, heavily made-up face, momentarily stunned.

Clothes really do make the person. Chloe, funded by the millions she had stolen from me, looked entirely different from the plain, nervous girl who had followed her mother to my house years ago to beg for a job.

But I was genuinely curious about how she was pulling this off.

Seeing me silent, Chloe grew impatient, pointing a manicured finger at my face.

"What are you standing there for? Move! I put together this birthday bash for Jackson. If you ruin his night, you won't survive the consequences. Oh, and make sure you get the Lafite. It’s Jackson's favorite."

"And while you're at it, call the Michelin-star pastry shop for a custom cake, and book a VIP lounge at the rooftop club for the afterparty."

I almost laughed out loud at her sheer audacity.

Using my stolen money to fund her luxury lifestyle, and now she wanted me to act as her personal errand girl?

In her dreams.