Chapter 1

On New Year's Eve, my boss fired me. He publicly announced that he'd given me an 8 million dollar severance package.

Overnight, I became the internet's lucky, overnight millionaire.

Even though my bank account only held $325.6, I was slammed online, accused of photoshopping my bank account to fake poverty, a heartless miser unwilling to share my supposed millions.

Because of this, my own mother stole my ID to take out a predatory loan! She bought an 8-million-dollar mansion.

The debt collectors smashed my house to pieces, forcing me to hand over the massive sum that didn't even exist.

Amidst public condemnation and violent shoves, I fell from the eighteenth floor, shattering into a million pieces.

That so-called 8 million was a sham from beginning to end, a fake expense account my boss created to avoid taxes!

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my boss posted that official announcement video.

My heart pounded fiercely, cold sweat soaking my back.

I looked down. My phone screen was looping the "humanitarian" video.

"Considering Quinn Hayes' dedication and hard work, even if not for her achievements, the company has approved an eight-million-dollar severance package!"

"This is our corporate responsibility, our commitment to our employees!"

In the video, Mr. Sterling's face was flushed with success. He held a red termination letter, speaking with an air of righteous indignation.

The comment section below had already exploded, full of praise for "conscientious boss" and "angelic company."

My hands and feet turned icy cold. I stared intently at that video.

In my previous life, this very video had pushed me into the abyss.

Mr. Sterling had unjustly fired me to fabricate expenses and avoid taxes, then concocted this enormous severance pay.

When I confronted him, he said it was just to satisfy tax audits. He claimed I wouldn't have to pay a cent, and I could even build a persona as a rich woman.

I was too naive then, thinking as long as I didn't take the money, everything would be fine. So I went along with it.

The result? Relatives swarmed like leeches, netizens doxxed my address, demanding donations, and my own mother stole my ID to go on a spending spree.

Finally, I was forced to jump from a building, shattering into a million pieces.

Mr. Sterling, meanwhile, gained countless followers with that video and became an industry benchmark.

Heaven gave me a second chance. This time, I would never be the silent scapegoat again!

Messages were still flooding the team chat. Colleagues were all @-ing me, their tones dripping with envy.

[@QuinnHayes Quinn, you're rich! Eight million, you'll never have to worry again!]

[Seriously, we always thought you were so quiet and kept to yourself. Who knew you'd walk away with such a fortune!]

[When are you treating us? Such big news, you've gotta take us all out to a fancy dinner, maybe at the Hilton?]

I sneered at their words.

These very colleagues had been the loudest in condemning me in my past life when I clarified I had no money.

They accused me of photoshopping my bank account to fake poverty, called me a heartless miser, and even led the charge in doxxing my desk photos in online hate posts.

Mr. Sterling spoke up in the chat then too.

[@QuinnHayes The money has been given, but a company non-disclosure agreement still needs to be signed.]

[And everyone, don't just focus on the money. Work hard, and you'll all have opportunities in the future!]

He was sending me a clear message.

He was hinting for me to keep my mouth shut and play along with his charade.

I took a deep breath, typed out a line, and sent it.

[Mr. Sterling, did you transfer the money to the wrong account? My bank account shows zero received.]

The group chat went silent for a few seconds.

Mr. Sterling never expected me to call him out in front of everyone. A private message popped up immediately.

[Quinn Hayes! Don't you understand the rules?]

[That was for show! If you dare to spill anything, I'll make sure you can't find another job in this industry!]

But having died once, what was there to fear?

I ignored the private message and continued to reply in the group chat.

[Mr. Sterling, the finance department's termination settlement clearly states zero severance pay.]

[The eight million you mentioned in the video, do you have a specific remittance slip for it?]

[My Uncle Mark is classmates with someone at the IRS. Shall I ask him to help us check where this money might be stuck?]

He didn't reply in the chat; he called me directly.

I hung up.

Want to settle this privately? No way.

Just as I hung up, Brenda from the next cubicle, always looking for a handout, leaned over, her face a mask of fake smiles.

"Oh, Quinn, Mr. Sterling wouldn't stiff you on such a small amount, would he? It must be processing."

"But honestly, eight million in hand and you're still so stingy, not even willing to treat us?"

A few other colleagues chimed in.

"Yeah, we work ourselves to the bone our whole lives and won't earn eight million."

"Quinn, you're being so unfair."

"Exactly, don't be so selfish."

I looked at Brenda's greedy face and just felt disgusted.

I stood up, holding my phone directly in front of her, and opened my mobile banking app to the balance screen.

"Go on, find the eight million for me."

The balance on the screen: $325.6.

Brenda froze for a moment, then rolled her eyes, her face full of disbelief.

"Oh, Quinn, you're such a good actress. Who only has one card these days?"

"You must have transferred the money to another card, or invested it, right? You're being too secretive with us."

I laughed bitterly.

People only believe what they want to believe. In the face of overwhelming jealousy, the truth didn't matter at all.

Just then, the office door pushed open.

Mr. Sterling walked in, his face ashen.