Chapter 1
Anthea Yeager’s eyes fluttered open to a world of darkness, the thick scent of stale beer invading her nostrils. Though sight failed her, her keen senses as a tech mogul whispered a truth. It was no longer the world she knew.
Where was she? Was she even alive?
Fumbling for a switch, Anthea flicked on the light.
Click!
The room flooded with a harsh, sterile glow, and Anthea surveyed her surroundings with a steely calm. Drawn curtains, a sea of empty beer bottles, and cigarette butts strewn across the floor were all signs of a soul in the throes of despair.
Memories cascaded into her mind, and as she methodically pieced them together, one conclusion became clear. She had undergone a soul journey, and now her spirit resided in an unfamiliar body, retaining the original host’s memories.
The original Anthea Morris was an object of envy, a silver–spoon heiress born into opulence but regrettably bereft of common sense. Illiterate in more ways than one, her high school peers knew her as the family’s laughingstock.
Three days prior, the Morris family had uncovered a shocking truth that Anthea was not their biological daughter but a child mistakenly swapped at the hospital.
The revelation had rocked her world, leaving it utterly colorless. Already distant, the Morris family viewed her with undisguised disdain.
The true heiress was Rebecca Yeager, a paragon of grace and talent, whose accomplishments outshone the original’Anthea’s like the sun does the moon.
As Rebecca would officially reclaim her place in the Morris family, a lavish feast awaited her downstairs, attended by the big shots of society.
With the past dissected and understood, Anthea steeled herself for the switch. The lives they each should have lived were about to be corrected.
Intent on washing away the stench of alcohol and sweat, Anthea opened the wardrobe, only to be assaulted by an array of outfits that screamed rebellion, like tops with necklines plunging like stock markets and shorts that could pass for belts, studded pants, fishnet stockings.
The reflection in the mirror, a caricature of subculture extremes, nearly floored her.
“No way!”
With no semblance of normalcy in sight, she abandoned the shower idea, instead throwing on a long–sleeved cover–up over the outlandish makeup and headed downstairs.
“Mom, Dad.” Anthea approached the Morris couple, her voice steady.
The guests sneered at her appearance. It was Rebecca’s day. What business did this fake heiress have there, calling the Morris parents her own? Could she be more shameless?
“What is she doing here? I would have long killed myself if I were her. What’s the point of still breathing here? Shame on her!”
“She’s ugly and a troublemaker!”
“I heard that her birth mother, Carole Yeager, is of low birth and hasn’t got a place to stay. Anthea’s been used to this extravagant life and doesn’t want to leave.”
“Do you guys know Carole is a home wrecker? God knows who Anthea’s father is.”
“Gosh, it turns out she’s a bastard child.”
Their cruel whispers cut through the air, but Anthea stood unflinching, a mountain amidst the storm.
With a smile that barely concealed her contempt, Sandra Morris beckoned Anthea closer. “Come here. Let me introduce you to your sister, Rebecca. You two–must get along.”
It was no secret that Sandra loathed Anthea, who clung to the Morris name like a stubborn stain. But they had ways to erase her from existence altogether.
Anthea turned to Rebecca with a nod. “Hello.”
Rebecca ignored her, instead turning to Sandra with tears brimming. “Mom, I thought I only had two brothers. Who am I if she’s your daughter?”
Rebecca had always felt out of place, a princess among paupers, repelled by the dreary cellar of her supposed upbringing. She hated the low lives around her and never believed she was the daughter of a mistress. And her intuition was correct. She was nobility, misplaced among
commoners.
After hearing the news, her joy was uncontainable. Yet, her past life haunted her, a well–dealt hand played disastrously. Misguided by a deceptive suitor, she had met a tragic end.
But this life was not the last. Reborn with the memories of her previous existence, Rebecca held a trump card the average person lacked. She would not repeat the mistakes of her past.
In this life, she would surely outshine them all!
She was determined to make her parents beam with pride!
She aimed to elevate the Morris name to be the most distinguished in all of Cloudcrest.
Moreover, according to her memory, tonight’s gala was graced by a tycoon whose mere foot tap could send tremors through Cloudcrest. Sadly, the crowd was thick as thieves, and in her past life, she had never met this elusive magnate.
But with a beauty that could make the moon hide in shame and swans plummet from the sky. she was confident she would catch the tycoon’s eye. She would make herself indispensable to him.
11:15
In this life, she would not allow Anthea to slip away so effortlessly as she did in her previous
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Did Anthea wish to remain with the Morris family? Well, then she would grant her that wish! All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.
She would keep Anthea close and turn her into the foil that accentuated her brilliance. She also Intended to marry Anthea to that brute from her previous life! She would ensure that Anthea, the eyesore, became nothing more than a stepping stone for her ascent!
With these thoughts, Rebecca’s lips curled into a sly grin, a barely perceptible look of fierce determination twinkling in her eyes.