I was the greediest stand-in in high society, and my motto was simple. As long as cash kept coming, my dignity could take a back seat.

For Frederick Jameson, I played the role of his obedient pet, so when his true love accused me of stealing her necklace, I just bowed and apologized.

With Samuel York, I served as his lab rat, testing drugs meant for his sweetheart's condition until they left me with a bleeding ulcer.

And for Theodore Xander, I acted as a scapegoat, getting pushed out to take the blame of extortion for his crush.

They all assumed I was hopelessly in love with them, even forcing me to sign a confession at their joint engagement party.

That was when the system's voice chimed in, "Host, the portal home is now open."

I wiped the blood from my lips, splashed my wine into their faces, and grinned brightly. "Game over, losers!"

Right in front of everyone, I leaped straight into the sea.

Later, word spread that the three big shots scoured the entire ocean just to find my body.

"Frederick, that was the engagement necklace you gave me, worth $30 million. Lindsey was the only one who touched my collar earlier. I can't think of anyone else who could have taken it."

Frederick Jameson's true love clung to his arm, sobbing uncontrollably. With her accusation, every eye on the yacht's deck turned sharply in my direction.

The guests began to whisper among themselves.

"What else would you expect from someone with such humble origins? Sticky fingers all the way."

"Frederick has kept her around for five years, and she's still not content? Stealing his fiancée's necklace? Unbelievable."

"Look at her, dressed like she's scraping by. Probably desperate for cash."

It was the dead of winter, and the sea wind sliced through the air like blades. There I stood in a thin strapless gown, the chill cutting across my bare skin and leaving me shivering uncontrollably.

In stark contrast, Sophia Reed huddled in a custom cashmere wrap, nestled securely in Frederick's warm embrace.

Without even glancing my way, Frederick barked, "Search her!"

At his command, two bodyguards rushed forward. My stomach suddenly twisted with that familiar, gnawing pain. The lingering side effects from Samuel York's experimental drugs flared up once again.

I clutched my stomach, my face turning pale as I attempted to explain, "Frederick, I didn't..."

But before I could finish my sentence, a polished leather shoe slammed hard into my shin. I heard a faint crack, and agony exploded through my leg like fire. I pitched forward and crashed awkwardly onto the cold deck.

Frederick towered over me with a sneer. "You're the type who would do anything for money. What wouldn't you stoop to?"

As I lay there, sweating profusely from the intense pain, my mind remained surprisingly clear.

The system prompted: "Frederick's affection dropped by 10, heartbreak value up 20%. Suggest activating Victim Mode to accelerate task rewards."

Looking up at him through teary eyes, I reflected on my five years of bending to his every whim, convinced that it would earn me at least a sliver of trust. It turned out I was only fooling myself—or perhaps my acting had been so convincing that I had almost started to believe it, too.

"Search her!" Frederick barked again.

In front of the entire party, the guards ripped off my velvet jacket, and their hands patted me down roughly without any regard for decency. My dignity was torn apart and trampled underfoot.

Naturally, they found nothing. Yet Sophia was relentless.

"Maybe she swallowed it or threw it overboard!" she insisted. "I don't care. She has to apologize to me."

Frederick's patience finally ran out. "Get on your knees and apologize to Sophia. We'll call it even."

Pushing through the burning pain in my leg, I hauled myself up from the deck. The crowd expected me to cry, scream, or beg for mercy, but I did none of those things.

Instead, I simply straightened my wrinkled skirt and dropped to my knees right in front of them. My knees hit the hard deck with a resounding thud, sending a wave of pain that was even worse than the kick.

The deck fell into dead silence.

I raised my head and locked eyes with Frederick, who seemed to be stunned by how quickly I had given in. Forcing a smile that looked uglier than a grimace, I declared, "Consider this my way of repaying you for five years of putting me up, Frederick. But my apology doesn't come cheap, and neither does my pride. $30 million, pay up."

Shock twisted into rage on his face in an instant. "Damn you!"

He yanked out his checkbook, tore off a check, and hurled it at my face. "Take your money and get lost!"

The paper's edge sliced my cheek, leaving a thin streak of blood. I ignored it, snatching the fluttering check and planting a light kiss on it. Then I looked up with a wide grin. "Thanks, boss."

Just then, my phone started vibrating wildly in my pocket. The screen flashed with the caller ID: Samuel York, the doctor who'd used me as a lab rat.

Limping on my injured leg, I made my way to his private clinic. The air inside reeked of strong disinfectant, creating a cold and impersonal atmosphere.

Samuel stood at the sterile lab door in his spotless white coat, holding a vial of liquid. His eyes were colder than the hallways themselves. Through the large glass window, I could see his true love, Charlotte Hayes, lying in the isolation ward.

She looked perfectly healthy, with color in her cheeks and steady breathing—far better off than I was with all my injuries. Samuel had claimed she suffered from a rare inherited disease that required fresh clinical data for treatment, and I was the only matching live sample they could find in Arirwatch.

Sliding a consent form and a pen toward me, he said in a flat tone, "Sign it. This is an improved version with minimal side effects. Perhaps just some nausea and vomiting."

I eyed the blue liquid, and my stomach began to churn. He had said the same thing last time, but I had ended up confined to bed for three days, too weak to even stand.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up and forced a pleading smile. "It's my birthday today. Can we skip this one?"

I hoped, just this once, that he might show a spark of kindness and maybe even wish me a happy birthday. Instead, he frowned in annoyance. "Charlotte can't afford any delays. Don't be dramatic."

Those few words shattered any illusions I still held.

What was I even expecting? A touch of warmth from a man who saw me as nothing more than data and a test subject?

Wasting no more breath, I grabbed the pen and signed the content form. Then I took the blue vial, twisted off the cap, and chugged it down like ordinary water.

The effects hit faster than ever before, churning my stomach as if it were in a high-speed blender. Pain exploded from my core and spread rapidly through my entire body. I curled up on the cold floor, convulsing uncontrollably while sweat soaked through my clothes.

Through the thick glass, I caught sight of Charlotte watching my agony with a faint smirk. Samuel remained in place, tablet in hand, focused on recording my vital signs—heart rate, blood pressure, and nerve reactions.

He didn't even glance down at me once. To him, I wasn't a person; I was merely animated data providing results for his experiments.

The agony intensified, and it felt as if my organs were shifting out of place. Finally, I couldn't hold it back and began vomiting violently on the floor. What came up wasn't food remnants but bright red blood, splattering like petals on his pristine, expensive shoes.

Samuel reacted at last, stepping back with a look of disgust.

"What a mess," he said impassively, as if addressing himself or me. "Clean it up. The data collection is nearly complete. Charlotte's next treatment should proceed smoothly."

Lying there completely drained, I could barely lift a finger.

The system prompted: "Host's health dropped to 30%, danger zone. Samuel's affection up 5%, heartbreak value +30%."

It was ironic how my suffering could boost his fondness for me.

Using my final reserves of energy, I propped myself up, wiped the blood from my mouth, and extended a weak hand toward him.

My voice came out raspy and broken. "Hazard pay is due, right? Cash this time."

Checks could get frozen, after all. Cash was always the safest option.

Samuel paused, clearly not expecting me to focus on money even in that state. His contempt deepened, and he tossed a credit card into the puddle of blood. "PIN's six zeros. Now get out."

My hands trembled as I picked up the stained card and clutched it tightly. It was what I had earned. Leaning against the wall for support, I staggered to my feet and headed out.

At the hospital entrance, craving a breath of fresh air, I bumped into a solid chest. It was Theodore Xander.

"Lindsey, I'm here to pick you up," he said, smoothly guiding me into a black sedan parked by the curb.

He took the driver's seat, looking every bit the polished gentleman in that sharp suit. He was like a knight arriving to rescue me, but his following words plunged me straight into despair. "Wendy got into a hit-and-run last night."