When I transmigrate into a CEO romance novel as the vicious supporting female character who humiliates the heroine, the System tells me I can go home if I follow the plot to the end.
I turn around and slap the contract down in front of the CEO. “Transfer thirty million to me every month, or I’ll make your sweet little heroine famous overnight.”
The CEO glances at the scandalous affair topping the trending searches and sneers. “Are you sure you want to destroy her by making her famous?”
I look down at the text alert showing the money landing in my bank account. “No. I’m teaching you what real capital manipulation looks like.”
