The Socialite Is Ready for Her Debut

After graduating from a socialite training course, my sister swears to marry into a wealthy family. To create encounters with Pierce Holden, the prince of the upper crust, she drives my car, wanting to tailgate him and run into his car.

I slam the brakes and tell her the Holdens aren't fools. We can't afford to pay for Pierce's car, even if we were to give up everything we have.

Later, Pierce throws a lavish wedding that stuns the country. My sister goes crazy with jealousy, saying that she would've been the bride if not for me stopping her back then. Out of resentment, she rams her car into me and kills me.

When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the front passenger seat. My sister smirks confidently, her gaze fixed on the expensive car ahead of us. "I'm sure Pierce will be enchanted by me once he sees me. I won't need to drive a dump like this once I get together with him."

This time, I don't stop her. She puts the pedal to the metal, making the car crash against the sports car worth a fortune.

With a violent crash, the sports car skidded forward for a moment before coming to a halt. The loud noise caught the attention of several passersby, who stopped to watch.

The car was severely damaged. The rear wing fell off with a loud clang, and the body was deeply dented.

But my sister, Quincey Scott, didn't seem to care.

She quickly recovered from the shock and touched up her makeup as she gazed into the rearview mirror. She intentionally messed up her bangs, rubbed her eyes to bring up tears, and touched up her lipstick just enough to make it look natural.

If I hadn't seen everything firsthand, I would've thought she was just a frightened little bunny.

After pulling her gaze away from the mirror, Quincey glanced at me. When she saw me sitting still, unfazed, she seemed surprised.

Just a moment ago, she had placed two thick cushions in front of herself as a buffer and then deliberately sped up when I wasn't paying attention.

If I hadn't been prepared and gripped the armrest tightly, I'd probably be slamming into the dashboard by now with a bruised face.

She had been like this since childhood, always scheming to make me look awkward and foolish, just to highlight her own graceful beauty.

"Pierce rarely shows up. Just follow my lead and don't ruin things for me." Quincey dipped her fingers in some powder and smeared it across my lips.

"When I become Pierce's wife, I'll have you work as a maid in the Holden residence. The pay will be better than what you're getting now."

With that, Quincey tugged down the collar of her tight knit shirt, opened the door, and stepped out of the car.

In my previous life, Quincey blamed me for ruining her chance of marrying into a wealthy family. She blamed me for