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His Trophy Wife, The Apex Predator
My husband of three years, Arthur Vanderbilt, came home smelling of his mistress's perfume and threw divorce papers on our marble kitchen island. He demanded I sign away all rights to our assets for a five-million-dollar "severance," calling me a leech his family picked up from the suburbs to solve a temporary PR crisis. When I refused and demanded my four percent equity in the Vanderbilt Group, he and his mistress, Serena, launched a vicious smear campaign. They planted false stories on Wall Street forums, accusing me of laundering money for an Eastern European crime syndicate. They tried to force my hand with a check for five hundred million, which I tore up and threw in his face. To them, I was just a trophy wife they could easily discard. They had no idea that the "leech" they so despised was the anonymous investor who had secretly bailed out their entire company three years ago, saving them from bankruptcy. Their final move was to hire an actress to publicly accuse me of fraud in the lobby of the most powerful law firm in Manhattan. They didn't realize I was there to retain the firm's most ruthless lawyer. After security threw them out, I looked my replacement in the eye and made her a promise. "Prepare for an FBI probe into perjury and corporate defamation."Modern Revenge
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I was Chloe, a high school student with Ivy League dreams, just two months shy of the SATs.
Our kind housekeeper, Ms. Evans, offered me a "special calming tea" to ease my nerves.
It wasn't comforting.
It was a soul-swapping recipe that stole my life.
I woke up trapped in the body of Brenda, Ms. Evans's resentful, academically hopeless daughter.
Brenda, in my body, went to the SATs and deliberately caused a horrific scene.
She tore up the test.
They disqualified me.
They blacklisted me.
My parents, blindly trusting Ms. Evans, believed I'd had a breakdown or cheated.
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Shattered Dreams, Renewed Power
I was Chloe, a high school student with Ivy League dreams, just two months shy of the SATs. Our kind housekeeper, Ms. Evans, offered me a "special calming tea" to ease my nerves. It wasn't comforting. It was a soul-swapping recipe that stole my life. I woke up trapped in the body of Brenda, Ms.
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