Playing The Toxic Wife To Attract Billionaires

June bolted upright on the king-size bed.

The silk sheets pooled at her waist as she clawed at her chest. Her lungs refused to expand. A sharp, tearing agony ripped through her sternum, as if someone had shoved a fist into her ribcage and squeezed her heart. She gasped, sucking in useless air.

She blinked through the tears blurring her vision. The room around her was massive. Vaulted ceilings, excessive gold-leaf molding, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing the swaying palm trees of Beverly Hills. The sheer opulence hit her brain like a physical blow, sending her into a brief, violent spiral of sensory overload.

Her bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. She stumbled, her knees buckling, and practically threw herself into the adjoining master bathroom.

She gripped the edges of the marble vanity. Her knuckles turned white. She stared into the massive mirror and staggered back a half-step. The face staring back at her was breathtakingly beautiful, but the sharp arch of the eyebrows and the harsh set of the jaw screamed of a toxic, bitter woman. It wasn't her face.

A cold, synthesized voice sliced through the silence in her head.

"System Moe-7 activated."

June's heart stuttered. She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. She thought she was hallucinating from the pain.

"You have exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining." the voice stated.

A digital, blood-red countdown timer burned itself into her retinas.

04:59.

June slammed her fist against the marble counter. "Is this a sick joke?" she rasped, her throat burning.

The system didn't answer with words. It answered with pain.

A very real, very violent spike of agony shot straight through her left ventricle. June's legs gave out. She collapsed, her knees slamming hard against the freezing marble floor.

"Plot synchronization complete," the cold voice echoed.

Memories that didn't belong to her slammed into her skull. June bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted copper. She was June Myers. The disposable, toxic wife of the ruthless billionaire Isaac Walton.

She saw the ending. She saw Isaac and his son coldly signing the papers to lock her in a psychiatric ward for the rest of her life. June grabbed the lapels of her silk robe, her fingers trembling violently as terror coated her throat.

"Bind with the system to earn lifespan," Moe-7 demanded.

June forced her breathing to slow. She was a modern woman. She knew how to negotiate. "Show me the underlying logic," she choked out. "What are the terms? I need to see the contract."

The system ignored her. The red numbers in her vision blurred and suddenly dropped.

00:10.

00:09.

The air left the room. An invisible hand wrapped around June's throat, crushing her windpipe. She clawed at her own neck.

00:03.

Survival instinct overrode everything. "I agree!" she screamed into the empty bathroom. "I bind!"

The crushing pressure vanished instantly.

June slumped sideways onto the floor. She dragged in massive, ragged breaths. Cold sweat soaked through the back