When I lay in my mother’s arms, she gently rubbed my back, her chin resting softly on my forehead.

The car was stocked with an array of gourmet dishes and my favorite drinks from the past—things she had started preparing the moment she got my call, afraid I would be hungry.

I hugged her tightly.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” I said with a smile. “There’s no need for all this trouble.

“Soon enough,” I added, my voice cold with certainty, “the real plagiarist will get exactly what they deserve.”

*

Moving back into our family’s mansion felt amazing.

No more dragging myself out of bed to shop for groceries or cook three meals a day. No more scrubbing laundry.

My bank account, packed with zeros, was a bottomless well of wealth. I could spend endlessly without a single worry about rent or bills.

My mom even set up a private study just for me—complete with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a top-of-the-line computer, and everything I’d need to pursue whatever I wanted.

Every morning, I would wake up early, basking in the sunlight by the floor-to-ceiling windows, doing yoga and pampering myself with skincare treatments.

At noon, I would enjoy a lavish, full-course meal.

Afternoons were for shopping sprees, sipping afternoon tea, and taking lessons in horseback riding, yoga, and golf.

In the evenings, I would unwind with a glass of red wine, soaking in a spacious, marble bathtub while a sound therapist, personally hired by my mom, lulled me to sleep with calming melodies.

My physical health and mental well-being skyrocketed. I felt stronger, sharper, and more radiant than ever before.

But while my life soared, trouble was brewing for Ruby.

With her long silence and no updates, the internet started buzzing with discontent.

Doubts and criticism flooded in:

“Can Ruby Quinn even write, or was her success all fake?”

“Could Vera Mason have been telling the truth all along?”

“No way a serious author would disappear this long at their peak. What a joke.”

“Is she playing us for fools? Refund us already!”

Ruby started to panic. Her appearances on social media became more and more frequent.

I knew her well. She was the type who coasted through life on her pretty face and men’s wallets.

Actual talent? Nonexistent.

Getting her to write a few sentences was harder than pulling teeth.

And this story? It was ripped from my real-life experiences—about a secret, one-sided crush on a senior.

Even if Carter coached her, he could only feed her bits and pieces from my past. He didn’t live my story. He couldn’t recreate the soul of it.

Still, buckling under the pressure, Ruby gritted her teeth and under Carter’s “guidance”, she managed to churn out a single chapter.

The result? A disaster.

The views plummeted, and the comments section was a war zone.

Criticism poured in so fast and so brutally that she deleted the chapter in a panic.

Then came the pity play.

She took to social media, sobbing about her health.

“Sorry, everyone. I’ve been seriously ill and had to undergo surgery. I wanted to write, but I’ve been too weak. Please understand my situation.”

But she didn’t stop there. She made a grand promise—vowing to deliver a masterpiece at her upcoming in-person fan meet-and-greet.

That day, I was leisurely browsing through Hermès, debating which handbag would pair best with my new outfit.

Suddenly, a message popped up on my phone. It was from my former editor, Lily.

“Vera, I noticed your IP address shows you’re in Haven State. I’m here on a business trip. Let’s meet. I think... maybe I misunderstood you.”

My heart thudded.

*

I thought this meeting would finally clear my name.

But to my surprise, Lily wasn’t here to apologize, she was here to convince me to finish Ruby’s manuscript.

At the cafe, her eyes swept over my outfit—Chanel’s latest collection. A smug, condescending smirk tugged at her lips.

“Name your price, Vera,” she said smoothly, her voice laced with disdain. “I know your financial situation isn’t great. So, how much will it take for you to pick up the pen and finish the book?”

She leaned back, her tone turning cold and businesslike.

“Ruby is our site’s biggest cash cow now. She’s already pulled in massive profits. The company will do whatever it takes to keep her on top.”