[So... she really died?]
Looking down at her own see-through, floating form, even though her mind was a mess, Elena Brooks couldn’t deny it anymore—she was really, truly dead.
Just last night, she'd been rushing to a shoot, barely managing to hail a cab in time. But while passing through a dim alley, a masked man in black had appeared out of nowhere and plunged a ten-centimeter blade straight into her abdomen.
The knife went in deep, straight into her organs. Blood gushed out, blurred her vision, and with one stab, lights out. No time to react, no time to scream.
When she came to again, she was already inside her own memorial hall.
In the crystal coffin lay a girl with the exact same face as hers—delicate, flawless… and completely drained of life. Seeing herself like that, Elena felt a wrenching bitterness in her chest.
She’d clawed her way up in the entertainment world, barely squeezed into the spotlight as a B-list celebrity. Just when things were starting to look up, boom—one "accident" and it was all over.
Her life stopped at twenty-seven.
But she couldn’t make peace with it—not like this. She still had so many unfinished dreams, so much left to do...
As Elena fell into her thoughts, a sudden burst of noise from the entrance of the hall pulled her attention back. She looked up, only to be nearly blinded by the constant flashing of cameras.
“Boohoo… how could this happen to my sister? She was so young. Why did it have to be her…”
The woman in front was dressed in a sleek black dress, streaks of tears staining her face. But those tears didn’t seem to mess up her carefully done ‘tragic beauty’ makeup one bit.
Behind her, shutters clicked nonstop as a crowd of reporters barged in, swarming the solemn space like flies. In a second, the mourning hall turned into a media circus.
It was laughable. Absurd.
Elena’s eyes instantly sharpened, cold with fury, slicing straight toward Chloe Whitman—the woman putting on the never-ending sob show.
She stood surrounded by people, with Ethan Shaw—Elena’s own fiancé—holding her, comforting her gently, wearing an expression full of pity.
“Chloe, you need to take care of yourself. No need to cry over someone like Elena Brooks. She didn’t deserve your tears,” he said, tone soft as if speaking to someone he truly cared about.
“That’s not true,” Chloe sobbed, red eyes shimmering just right. “She was the real daughter of the Whitman family. I stole her life… If it weren’t for me, she’d… she’d still be alive!”
Her pitiful act made the Whitman family members rush to console her.
“How could you say that, Chloe? In our hearts, you’ve always been our daughter!”
“Exactly! That country girl Elena was rude and dumb—she didn’t belong with us!”
“Chloe, you’re my only sister. No one else matters.”
“Same here! You’re the only one I see as my real sister!”
Chloe kept crying like a weeping damsel, but all Elena saw was the shameless performance behind her carefully arranged sorrow—it made her stomach turn.
Ha…
Was there anything more ridiculous than this circus of fake grief?Dad, Mom, my brothers... all those people who shared her blood, yet when it came down to it, the only one they cared about was Chloe Whitman.
What a joke.
Elena Brooks looked at this fake family reunion, completely numb inside. Not a flicker of emotion left.
She was the real daughter of the Whitman family, yet this impostor had taken everything—her place, her people. And after the big reveal, these scenes had happened so often that she’d lost count.
She’d seen enough to stop caring.
No matter how hard she tried to please them, she was always the outsider.
Off to the side, reporters couldn’t hold back anymore. In a blink, they swarmed Chloe, shoving mics and cameras in her face.
“Miss Whitman, any thoughts on Elena Brooks’ death?”
“Elena had a reputation for scandal—lots of drama, tons of haters. Do you think this could’ve been a targeted murder?”
“Can you share any insider info about her death?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Whitman, how are you taking the news?”
All the so-called “concern” was just greed masked in questions. They didn’t care about Elena, just the juicy bits her tragedy had to offer.
Trying to squeeze out whatever value she had left.
“I really don’t know how this could’ve happened to my sister…”
Chloe shook her head, tears rolling down her cheek like she was straight out of a melodrama. “Maybe she offended someone? You know how she was—moody, intense. A lot of people didn’t get along with her.”
Meanwhile, Charles Whitman kept a stiff face as he addressed the cameras, “Elena was selfish and poisonous. If she ended up like this, it’s because she brought it on herself. In this family, Chloe is our only daughter. As for the rest? Doesn’t matter.”
The rest of the Whitmans didn’t say a word, but their silent agreement said it all.
Their daughter was dead, and yet not a hint of sadness showed on any of their faces.
“Dad, Mom, please don’t say that. Elena... she had a hard life too,”
Chloe gasped with such perfect sorrow it almost looked real. Her “grief” even softened the reporters, stirring sympathetic sighs from them.
Who would've thought the one crying for Elena—this arrogant and foolish woman—was Chloe, the supposed victim?
Just like the rumors said, Chloe Whitman was so sweet and considerate.
Hovering silently in the air, Elena trembled as rage built inside, her teeth clenched tight. Watching Chloe put on this ridiculous act made her blood boil.
That wasn’t the truth...
It was Chloe who ruined her reputation, who made the world turn its back on her. She had almost destroyed her completely.
And now this same woman stood there faking grief, using Elena’s death to climb higher, to polish her own image with Elena’s tragedy.
Monster.
Elena’s cold eyes burned with hatred as silent tears trickled down her pale, ghostly face.
She couldn’t let this go…
She really couldn’t.
But it was too late.
She was already dead.Once the commotion faded and the reporters got their fill of headlines, they scattered, leaving the funeral hall quiet once more.
Chloe Whitman used the excuse of wanting to say goodbye to Elena Brooks, leaving only Ethan Shaw behind.
“Ethan, can you light an incense stick for my sister too?”
With tears still glistening in her eyes, Chloe played her usual delicate role. “This is all my fault. That spot as Mrs. Shaw... it should’ve been hers.”
“Don’t mention her. Just thinking about that woman makes me sick.”
Ethan’s voice was full of disgust, a flicker of revulsion in his eyes. “I only love you, Chloe. That engagement between our families meant nothing. Elena was just a bumpkin from the sticks—I couldn’t stand to even look at her!”
“But she was still Mom and Dad’s daughter, after all. Ethan, do me a favor and help wrap up her memorial stuff, okay? You knew each other for years…”
After endless coaxing from Chloe, he finally left with clear reluctance to take care of the funeral arrangements.
And as soon as Ethan walked out, Chloe’s expression did a full 180. She didn’t even bother to wipe away her tears before pulling out her phone and making a call, a creepy smile tugging at her lips.
“Yes, just like you said. Now that we’ve got Elena’s body, I’ll have it sent over right away.”
Floating mid-air, Elena's eyes froze.
In her ears, Chloe’s voice dripped with flattery. “Don’t worry, that person you hired knew what they were doing. The blade was fully buried in her body—it ruptured her liver and she bled out, but there’s no damage to her skeleton at all. It won’t mess with your plans. You’ll definitely be satisfied…”
Watching Chloe’s red lips move as she chatted away, Elena hovered there, feeling a chill seep deep into her bones.
So… her death wasn’t just some accident.
It was planned—premeditated.
They wanted her body?
This had to be some kind of sick joke.
Who would go this far? Who wanted her dead so badly?
Elena started shaking, her eyes bloodshot, rage and pain bubbling up like lava in her chest.
She wasn’t going to take this. No way.
She was going to kill Chloe Whitman. Make her pay in blood.
Just as she darted forward, a sudden, stabbing pain exploded near her collarbone.
Before she could react, a powerful force yanked her straight into a swirling fog.
She didn’t even get the chance to fight before everything went black…
——
Dear readers, just a heads-up: this story is based on a “lucky girl vs cursed guy” setting. Anyone who harms this lucky charm will end up paying for it.
It’s got snark, jokes, wild karma payback, and a cast full of weirdos. Logic may be sacrificed here and there.
If you’re here for some fun and light reading, you won’t be disappointed. But if you prefer hard realism and airtight plots, feel free to check out another book—no need to waste time here.
