Drick scoffed. "No way! Don't even think about scamming me!"

I stayed calm. "Then we'll let the police settle it."

His bravado crumbled. His face turned a shade of purple as he stammered, "Can we do installments...?"

I figured Wanda would lay low for a while after that. Clearly, I gave her too much credit.

Word had it she'd started an internship as a livestream host, but I didn't expect her to turn my house into her personal set.

When I got home, there she was, phone in hand, streaming live like she owned the place. A group of classmates buzzed around her, handling lighting and equipment.

"This is my home," Wanda boasted. "Isn't the decor luxurious? Every morning, I wake up to maids bringing me breakfast and helping with my morning routine."

My parents were off to the side, exchanging awkward glances as they listened to her nonsense.

"Wanda," my dad finally said, keeping his tone polite, "in our line of work, it's better to avoid being too public. Maybe you could do your streams from your workplace instead?"

But Wanda wasn't paying attention. She flipped on her phone's camera and aimed it straight at him.

"Look, everyone! This is Mr. Lambert, the CEO. Isn't he handsome?"

My dad, caught off guard, managed an awkward wave, the unease written all over his face.

Wanda, unfazed, launched into a dramatic tour of the house, showing off the furniture. Then, Emma Bailey—her mom—appeared in the frame. Both of them froze.

"Mr. Lambert," Emma said after a beat, breaking the silence, "the kitchen's all cleaned up."

Her gaze shifted to Wanda, confusion clouding her face. "Wanda, what are you doing here?"

I'd been watching the whole scene from the sidelines and decided to stir the pot. With a smirk, I chimed in, "Emma, your daughter's livestreaming. Didn't you know?"

Wanda froze, her face paling as she started babbling. "What are you even talking about? Someone like her my mom? That's ridiculous! I'm a wealthy heiress—she's just the housekeeper."

She glared at Emma, as if trying to will her into silence. "Get back to work! Don't mess up the floors on your way out!"

Pulling Emma aside, she hissed, "How many times have I told you not to call yourself my mom in front of people? Do you want to ruin me?"

Emma stared at her, stunned. Then, without warning, she slapped Wanda across the face. The sound echoed in the room.

"How dare you talk to me like that? I'm your mother!"

Wanda's cheek flared red as she stood there, shaking with fury but too stunned to respond. Her disheveled state made her look almost pitiful.

The livestream comments went wild:

[OMG, she's disowning her mom? Who does that?!]

[Wait... so all that heiress stuff was fake? Yikes.]

Leaning against the doorframe, I watched the chaos with a barely-contained grin.

Eventually, my mom stepped in to calm things down before it spiraled even more.

***

Once the drama fizzled out, my mom pulled Wanda into a bedroom. She spoke gently, trying to comfort her, and even handed her a small gift to settle her nerves.

"Mrs. Lambert," Wanda started, her tone syrupy sweet, "since you don't have a daughter, why not make me your goddaughter? Then someday, my kids can call you Grandma. Sons are great, but a daughter is like a warm coat for her parents!"

I rolled my eyes internally. In my last life, she'd used the same fake-sweet tone to wrap my parents around her little finger, convincing them to blow ridiculous amounts of money on her.

Mom's smile tightened. She gave Wanda a polite, lukewarm answer. "Of course. We've always thought of you like family."

Wanda's eyes lit up, totally misreading the vibe. "That's awesome! We should throw a banquet to make it official—something super fancy!"

Mom's smile wavered, probably remembering how Wanda had just treated Emma. Her voice cooled. "That won't be necessary. My husband and I are really busy. We're doing fine, so there's no need to worry about us. Just focus on taking care of your mom, okay?"

Wanda's face shifted so fast it was almost funny, like she'd bitten into something spoiled. "You've always looked down on me," she said, her voice dripping with fake hurt as tears started to form. "I was never good enough for your world. Shaun's shoes cost more than my entire monthly budget. Guess I got greedy, huh?"

Wow, so she could tell the truth once in a while.

I smirked. "If you know you don't belong, stop wasting my time and get out of my house."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she swallowed it down, trying to keep her innocent act intact. Gritting her teeth, she spun around and stormed off.

Mom shot me a look that screamed seriously?. "Did you have to be so harsh?"

In my last life, Wanda hadn't been able to afford college because of her family's money problems. Dad had paid her tuition and even handed her a sub card tied to my account. Back then, she tiptoed around, afraid to tick me off. But now? She was freaking out, burning through the card before I cut her off for good.

I checked the account and saw transaction after transaction, each for thousands of dollars. My blood boiled. Without a second thought, I froze the card.

Almost immediately, my phone blew up—calls, texts, notifications nonstop. Wanda was losing it:

[Shaun Lambert, why did you freeze my card? You knew I had a dinner planned today! Are you trying to humiliate me?]

[If I embarrass myself in front of everyone, you're going to regret it!]

[Don't act like you're not seeing this—I know you are!]

I could almost hear the edge in her voice, picture her face twisted with frustration. I didn't bother dragging it out. I replied with one short message:

[From now on, the Lambert family won't give you another penny.]

Her response came in an instant—message after message, each one angrier than the last:

[You don't get to decide that! That money was Mr. Lambert's, not yours. You think you can just cut me off?]

[Unfreeze the card now—I've got bills to pay!]

***

In my past life, I hadn't thought twice when she sweet-talked Dad into buying her designer bags and luxury makeup. She'd parade her latest haul like she earned it, while her mom, Emma, worked long hours cleaning our house. Looking back, it was obvious she milked every ounce of kindness we gave her.

I turned off my phone and headed to school.

The moment I stepped onto campus, there she was, dropping to her knees in front of me with a loud, dramatic thud. Students froze, whispering and staring, clearly intrigued by the show.

Classic Wanda—playing the victim, desperate to make me look like the villain.

"Shaun, please!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "Just one more chance! I swear, I'll stop wasting money!"

I stared at her, completely unmoved. "Not happening. You're not getting another dime."

Her pleading shifted into anger. "You've always looked down on me and my mom! To you, this money's nothing—it's just a meal! But to me, it's my entire month's expenses!"

I shrugged, my voice ice-cold. "And how is that my problem? Just because you're broke doesn't mean I owe you anything."

She froze, caught off guard by how blunt I was. In my past life, I would've folded, let her guilt-trip me into giving her whatever she wanted. But this time? Her tricks weren't going to work.

Wanda's eyes darted around, scanning the crowd for backup, but all she got were whispers—and none of them sounded sympathetic.

"Seriously? He doesn't owe her anything."

"She's just trying to guilt-trip him. That's so low."

"If she's that desperate for money, she should get a job. Begging like this is pathetic."

The realization hit her hard, and her fake-innocent act crumbled. Her face twisted with anger, and she went straight for the nuclear option.

"I've been sleeping with you for three years, Shaun! And now you're throwing me away? Fine, if you won't pay, I'll tell everyone you forced yourself on me!"