Chapter 1

I'm bound to the Envy Wish System, so anything I want, I can have.

At five, I wanted my nemesis's hair bow, and the next morning it was sitting on my bedside table.

When I was eight, the village bully seized my foster parents' fields. I wanted him to have stolen land he couldn't farm—and that very night he had a stroke and was left paralyzed on one side.

At twelve, I wanted an admission spot at a top middle school, and my rival suddenly drowned.

I got scared, and I never dared to want anything again.

That lasted until I was seventeen, when the wealthy Harding family found me and said I was their long-lost biological daughter.

My foster parents gripped my hands and told me over and over to keep my head down, to be a good daughter to my parents, to give way to the fake heiress, and to get along with my brother.

For my eighteenth birthday, my coming-of-age party, my foster parents rode eight hours on a slow train to come celebrate with me.

Instead, Margery Harding treated them as a big "gift" for me, and humiliated me by locking them in a dog cage.

Seeing my foster parents chained up and covered in blood, I was so furious I wanted to fight Margery to the death.

But my own brother threw himself in front of her:

"Maggie's just a little playful. So some country folks got knocked around a bit—so what? Do you really have to lose your mind over it?"

My father gave a cold warning:

"Make one more scene, and I'll lock you up with them too!"

Margery ground her heel into the back of my foster mother's hand and giggled sweetly:

"Sis, are you happy with a coming-of-age party like this?"

I stared at the blood-stained whip in her hand, gritted my teeth, and restarted the Envy Wish System that had lain silent for years.

Margery Harding, everything you have is going to slip away, one piece at a time.

And what I want—none of you can stop me from taking it!

1

The party was packed with celebrities and dignitaries, lively and glittering, except that everyone was crowded around Margery, flattering her.

She strolled up to me, glowing with self-satisfaction, her eyes crinkling with a smile:

"Sis, I even prepared a special performance just for you. Don't blink, okay?"

My biological parents and my brother, Brent Harding, smiled and nodded in approval.

Two bodyguards stepped forward on cue, carrying in a dog cage draped with red silk.

The instant the red silk came off, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

I lunged forward, my voice shaking:

"Dad! Mom! Why is it you?!"

My foster parents were locked inside the cramped dog cage with thick iron chains, tortured until they were covered in blood, barely clinging to life.

A collective gasp went through the room.

I whipped my head around, my nails digging into my flesh:

"Margery! How dare you? Let my parents out this instant!"

Margery held a long leather whip, tapping it against her palm one beat at a time as she sauntered toward the cage.

"Sis, it's just a little performance. What's the rush?"

My fingers clenched tighter.

"Can't you see they're bleeding?!"

"It's just for the show. Relax, country folks are tough as leather, nothing's going to happen to them."

The next second, in front of everyone, she brought the whip down on the two old people, again and again.

Every lash raised a fresh streak of red.

But my foster parents bit down hard and refused to make a sound, afraid of causing me trouble, afraid I'd never find my footing in a wealthy family.

"Stop! Margery, you lunatic!"

Ignoring me completely, Margery ordered the bodyguards to run current through the cage.

The electricity surged, and the two old people convulsed in agony.

The watching guests were terrified, their eyes full of pity, yet not one of them dared to speak up and stop her.

The Hardings had power and influence, and no one was willing to offend Margery for the sake of two lowly people.

Watching my foster parents endure such humiliation, their bodies torn with wounds, I charged up and wrenched the whip out of her hand.

I raised it high, but before it could fall, my biological parents and Brent immediately blocked me from Margery.

My father snapped at me:

"You're never home. Fine, you run around out there with a pack of no-good lowlifes."

"And now you'd raise your hand against your own sister for two filthy peasants? Have you no humanity left?!"

I kept my eyes fixed on Margery, held out my hand, and spoke in a voice cold to the bone:

"Give me the key!"

Margery flinched as if terrified and staggered back two steps, her high heel grinding hard into the mangled, bloody back of my foster mother's hand.

"Sis, you're so scary like this. I'm so frightened..."

Then she suddenly threw herself backward, flung out her hand, and the key flew out the window.

"Oh! Sis, I didn't mean to! What are we going to do now that the key's lost?"

Brent rushed over to steady her, pulling her tenderly into his arms while glaring viciously at me;

"Kathleen! Why are you scaring Maggie!"

"She's just a little playful. So some country folks got a bump, it's nothing. Do you have to lose your mind in public and disgrace the Harding family?"

My mother looked at me in disappointment;

"Kathy, you are such a disappointment. It's been a whole year, and you're still this willful, still can't stand Maggie."

My father gave me a cold warning:

"Make another scene, and I'll lock you up with them, so you can think hard about what you've done!"

The bodyguard took the chance to snatch the whip from my hand, twisted my shoulder down, and forced me to my knees.

Brent gave a cold snort:

"You've ruined a perfectly good party! Now hurry up and admit your mistake and apologize!"

I struggled to lift my head:

"I did nothing wrong!"

My father's face was dark and vicious:

"Hold her down, hard!"

He stepped forward and set his foot on my head, brutally forcing my forehead down against the floor.

"When you do something wrong, you kneel and apologize! Dad is teaching you your manners!"

My nails clawed raw against the marble floor as I clenched my teeth and fought back:

"I already said it—I did nothing wrong!"

The last thread of restraint in my heart snapped, and in my mind a familiar electronic voice sounded:

"Congratulations, host. After six years, the Envy Wish System is online again. What do you wish for?"