Eleanor sat at her desk and logged into her stock account. The portfolio page that popped up was identical to what she remembered from her past life—$30,000 in scattered stocks, left to her by her late parents and never touched. In her previous life, Liam had convinced her to sell them all under the pretense of "optimizing her investment portfolio," replacing them with his company's "promising stocks" that had ultimately become worthless scraps of paper. Along with those stocks, her last remaining trust in him had vanished forever.
Taking a deep breath, she clicked "Sell All." When the confirmation prompt appeared, her finger hesitated for a moment. Memories flashed back of Liam's gentle voice promising, "Let me manage this for you—I'll make sure you profit," and her heart twinged as if pricked by a needle. But hatred quickly overpowered that pain, and she pressed confirm without hesitation.
With
62,000nowinheraccount,shefollowedthesystem
′
sguidance,selectingastockpredictedtoriseoverthenextthreedays.Sheinvested
50,000, keeping $12,000 as a reserve. Her hand trembled as she clicked "Confirm Purchase"—this was more than just an investment; it was her first step toward taking control of her own fate, her first move in her revenge. There was no room for mistakes.
Over the next two days, she refreshed the stock price every ten minutes. Watching the numbers crawl slowly across the screen, her heart raced with anxiety—not about the profits, but about missing her chance to build capital, about falling into Liam's trap again before she could take her revenge. Whenever the price dipped slightly, she would clutch the edge of her clothes unconsciously, her knuckles whitening as the helplessness she had felt when being pushed into the lake briefly washed over her.
"Ring—ring—"
The sudden ringtone cut through the silence like a knife. The name "Liam" on the screen turned Eleanor's eyes icy cold. She took a deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax, and adopted a lazy tone as if she had just woken up, even adding a faint hoarseness to her voice: "Hello, Liam?"
"Did my love just wake up?" His voice on the other end was still gentle, like feathers brushing her eardrums—completely different from the coldness he had shown when pushing her into the lake. Yet now, every syllable made Eleanor feel sick to her stomach. "I'm free this afternoon. I want to take you to see an apartment. You've been saying our current place is too far from the city, haven't you? You wanted a change of scenery."
Eleanor sneered inwardly. She remembered this apartment—Liam had brought her here in her past life, calling it "a surprise." The luxury apartment in the city center had been exquisitely decorated, and he had held her in his arms, whispering, "This is where we'll build our future home," completely captivating her. Then he had suggested she sell their current apartment and invest the money in his company, claiming, "Let your money work for us—we'll have a better life this way." Blinded by love, she had agreed without a second thought. Now she realized it had all been part of his elaborate scheme to steal her assets, every detail carefully calculated.
"I'm not feeling well today, though. My head's spinning—I don't think I can go," she replied, feigning Apology and coughing softly to make her excuse more convincing. She quickly changed the subject: "Oh, by the way, I found some old stocks in my account while organizing things yesterday. I don't know anything about this stuff, and they're just sitting there. Do you think I should sell them?"
She knew Liam cared most about her assets—mentioning money would immediately grab his attention. Sure enough, his voice grew noticeably more enthusiastic, even lighter than before: "Those are just old stocks from years ago. Their returns are pitiful—there's no point keeping them. Besides, I've been looking into a great project lately, partnering with a friend. The returns are amazing. Let me manage your money for you—I guarantee it'll be much more profitable than leaving it in stocks. This project could even help us achieve financial freedom sooner."
The exact same lines as before—he hadn't even bothered to change the phrase "financial freedom." Eleanor suppressed the wave of disgust rising in her chest, digging her nails into her palm discreetly. The sharp pain kept her focused as she adopted a tone of innocent hesitation: "Really? That sounds wonderful. But I already sold the stocks yesterday—the market looked good, so I just went ahead and did it. The money's still in my account. I'll ask you more about this project once I feel better, okay?"
She deliberately left the door open—she wasn't strong enough to confront Liam yet; she couldn't risk alerting him. She had to keep pretending to be the naive, dependent Amelia he had manipulated so easily in her past life, lulling him into a false sense of security.
There was a brief silence on the other end. Eleanor could almost picture Liam's expression—surprised, perhaps a little annoyed, but quick to mask it. Sure enough, his voice softened again, even taking on a faint note of concern: "That's alright—investing is all about timing. You should rest if you're not feeling well, don't overthink things. I'll bring you your favorite strawberry cake tonight, okay?"
Strawberry cake—Liam had brought it to her every time she was sick in her past life. Its sweet taste had once been a source of comfort, but now she recognized it for what it was: just another tactic to win her over. A wave of nausea rose in Eleanor's throat, but she forced a smile into her voice: "That would be lovely. Thank you, Liam. You're so kind."
As soon as she hung up, the smile vanished from her face, replaced by icy hatred that clouded her eyes. She stared at the slowly rising stock price on her computer screen, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles turned white: "This is only the beginning, Liam. Every 'kindness' you ever showed me—I'll pay them all back. Every debt you owe me, I'll collect. And you'll pay for what you did."
By the afternoon of the third day, the stock had risen to the predicted level. Eleanor sold without hesitation. Watching her account balance jump from
50,000to
57,200—a profit of $7,200—she let out a sigh of relief. She had taken her first step, and her trust in the system had grown.
The system rewarded her by upgrading the Information Insight function and unlocking a "Financial Basics Handbook." Eleanor opened the handbook, her fingers gliding over the text on the screen. She knew the system was only a tool; to truly take control of her fate and never repeat her past mistakes, she needed to master financial knowledge herself, to develop the ability to analyze and judge independently—without relying on anyone else.
She opened a rental app, scrolling quickly through listings until she paused at a loft apartment far from Liam's company. Her previous apartment had been too large and too visible, making it easy for Liam to monitor her movements. This new place would be her secret base—a space that belonged only to her, where she could plan her revenge and store her plans and evidence.
The setting sun streamed through the window, casting a warm orange glow over her desk. But Eleanor's heart remained as cold as ice. She stared at the sunset, a cold smile playing at her lips: "Your days are numbered, Liam."