When Ava Gray jolted awake from the suffocating grip of unconsciousness, her eyes met a pair of icy-cold ones.

Her slim neck was being forcefully strangled by the man those eyes belonged to.

Gasping for breath, the fear of dying—again—crashed into her. In a panic, she joined her fingers and struck the pressure point on the man's wrist.

He winced in pain and finally let go of her throat.

"Cough… cough." Ava clutched her neck and coughed hard, her windpipe burning with each breath she sucked in.

Bastard!

She was a top-tier mystic healer—capable of curing what regular medicine couldn’t, a master of energy and feng shui, the go-to expert for the rich and powerful. When had anyone ever dared treat her like this?

Nearly murdered out of nowhere, Ava was so livid she swung her hand and slapped the man square across the face.

Smack!

"Get off me!" the voice that replied was cold and emotionless. It froze Ava in place.

That’s when she finally realized—this wasn’t her room. The place was low-key luxe and totally unfamiliar.

Worse yet, she was sitting on the lap of a supremely handsome man with a sharp, cold aura!

The two of them were in a tangled mess of disheveled clothes—bare shoulders, clear muscle lines… it was enough to make anyone blush.

In his angry stare, Ava caught something that looked suspiciously like embarrassment.

Wow.

Her heart thudded.

Was she just… watching this for free?

"You’re disgusting," the man spat, his voice laced with contempt. The handprint on his cheek was still visible.

"???" Ava’s casual appreciation immediately vanished.

He had the nerve to act all high and mighty?

Pissed off by his attitude, she raised her hand for another slap. "You take advantage of me, then throw shade?!"

But this time, the man was quicker. He dodged her swipe with a tilt of his head. Her fingers barely skimmed his face.

‘Damn, his skin’s smooth,’ Ava thought as her fingertips slid past.

The guy clearly hadn’t expected her to actually dare hit him—well, too late, she already did once.

Stung by the slap, his eyes flared with fury. "Sarah Gray, touch me again and you'll get nothing."

Sarah?

Not Ava?

The name cracked something inside her mind, and a flood of information rushed in.

Once it finally stopped, Ava looked down at her now curvy, overdeveloped body and hurriedly pulled her rumpled dress back up.

Without a word, she slid off his now-frozen lap and calmly adjusted herself, pretending nothing about this was weird.

As her eyes swept over the lower part of the man’s body—silent and unmoved—it made her think, ‘Not even a reaction? Aren’t guys all driven by that? Don’t tell me he’s… broken?’

That sketchy thought flashed through her mind and vanished.

She had bigger problems right now.

Turns out, she’d dropped into some over-the-top soap opera of a story, where she played a villainous stepmom who schemed her way into having the male lead’s kid… and died before Chapter Three.The story kicked off with the original Sarah Gray, who’d hit rock bottom, trying to strike a deal with Ethan Sinclair—hand over custody of their son in exchange for ten million.

Today was the day they were supposed to “close the deal.”

But Sarah clearly hadn’t given up. Before she could even sign the papers, she made one last attempt to seduce him.

If she pulled it off, she wouldn’t just get the ten million—she’d become Mrs. Sinclair. That ten million could turn into a whole damn empire.

When Ava Gray woke up inside this body, it was right in the middle of that failed seduction attempt. And yes, she nearly got choked to death.

According to the original plot, Sarah signed over custody out of pure spite and took the money, completely forgetting she had a kid waiting at home.

Of course, that didn’t end well. Debt collectors stormed the place looking for her and, not finding her, turned their rage on little Liam.

By the time Ethan’s men showed up, Liam was barely breathing.

Furious, Ethan unleashed hell—not just on the people who laid hands on Liam but on Sarah too.

He broke her limbs, ruined her face, shipped her off overseas, and she didn’t even make it there alive.

Yikes. How did I end up as this woman?

Ethan saw Ava’s face shift through several expressions and just snapped. “Sign. Take the money. Leave.”

Pfft.

Still bitter over drawing the short straw in life, Ava smirked. She casually glanced down at him, just above his thighs, and raised her fingers to gesture a tiny one-centimeter gap.

"Wow... tiny."

Ethan’s face turned stormy. “...”

Ava had actually been tempted to offer to check on his legs medically. That dumb idea died fast.

With an attitude like that? Yeah, good luck walking again.

Ever since his two-year coma and dramatic comeback as boss of the Sinclair empire, no one had ever dared embarrass Ethan like this.

She had to be looking for trouble.

But before Ethan could call anyone over, Ava had already darted to the window, climbed up, and jumped out with ridiculous ease.

Damn!

Thank God it was just the first floor. Hope this new body doesn’t come with poor kidney function.

She winced as she felt her back twinge but vanished into the garden without hesitating.

She had to get back to save the kid.

Right now, she was Sarah Gray. And she needed to shut the door on that original death flag, and fast.

The rest could wait.

…

Not long after she left, Ethan’s team finally burst into the room, only to find their boss sitting alone in his wheelchair—face dark, shirt rumpled, and a weird red mark still on his cheek.

“Mr. Sinclair?” Jacob Bennett, his top bodyguard and personal assistant, cautiously stepped forward.

He waved off the others and shot Ethan a nervous look, not daring to say much.

Ethan didn’t acknowledge him. He just stared coldly at the unsigned custody agreement.

Sarah Gray, you insane woman…

…

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up in the run-down outskirts.

Ava paid the fare, only to realize she had exactly ¥16.8 left to her name.

"...Wow. Broke as hell." She kind of regretted not swiping that check off the table earlier.

Slam.

She shut the car door and headed into the shady alleyways, following Sarah’s memories.

As soon as she stepped in, the narrow, grimy surroundings made her frown.Sarah Gray hurried through the alley, not even sparing a glance at those suggestive stares. The second she got to her floor, she saw five or six people crowding around the door of her rented place.

Yep, the death flag had officially been triggered. Her pupils shrank.

“You little brat! Where the hell did your slut of a mom go? If she doesn't pay up, I'm selling you off to make up for the debt!”

“And my damn rent! It’s been three months with not a dime!”

“That bitch borrowed thirty grand from me! Said she’d pay me back every time I asked, and guess what? Nada!”

“Say something, you little punk, or I’ll beat the crap outta you!”

The shouting was deafening. All debt collectors.

Sarah’s eyes turned cold, but she also let out a breath of relief. At least she made it in time.

“You can't come in! This is me and Mom’s home!” A tiny, fierce voice yelled from behind the barely-open door.

Sarah caught sight through the gap—little guy gripping the doorframe, teeth bared like a baby wolf, standing guard.

So, this was the original Sarah’s son?

“This is my damn property! Get it through your thick skull—if your whore of a mom doesn't cough up the rent today, you're both out!” The overweight landlady raised her hand to slap the boy.

Too bad—her hand never made it.

“My hand!” she shrieked, staring at the beautiful woman clamping down on her wrist like she was seeing a ghost.

“Sarah, you little tramp, how dare you touch me?!”

Sarah just smirked. “Why all the drama? Talking wasn’t enough, so you went for a kid? Real brave, huh?”

She let go calmly.

The landlady’s face went white. She yanked her hand back fast—only she knew how bad it shook and how much it friggin’ hurt when Sarah grabbed it.

Clutching her throbbing wrist, she now looked at Sarah with clear fear.

Standing protectively in front of the little one, Sarah glanced at the angry crowd.

She couldn’t help but curse in her head. Now she was stuck being Sarah with all this debt crap. What a raw deal.

“I’ll have your money ready this time tomorrow,” she said, sounding way calmer than she felt.

Behind her, the kid looked up, eyes full of curiosity. Pity Sarah missed it.

“Tomorrow? Please, you think you can scam me again? Probably already packin’ your bags to skip town!” sneered a tattooed guy.

Sarah flashed a smile and whipped out her phone. Three buttons. 1-1-0.

Before it connected, she spoke up, “Don’t believe me? Totally understand. But how about we let the cops hear this and let them decide?”

That shut them up real quick. These guys might be thugs, but the last thing they wanted was cop trouble. The tattooed one gave her a warning gesture and, swearing under his breath, led the crew away.

Watching them go, Sarah sighed. “If only you knew I was actually saving your asses.”

‘Cause in the original plot? Things didn’t end well for anyone who messed with the kid.

Now that the chaos had cleared, Sarah turned to the landlady, whose face looked worse than ever.

“You seriously need to go see your daughter—now. Or trust me, you’ll regret it for life.”

She rubbed her fingers together absentmindedly, thinking back to the pulse she accidentally read earlier. Out of kindness, she gave the woman a rare heads-up.