Cassian Hawthorne and I are a couple bound by pure hatred. Outside of the obligatory physical intimacy, we were practically strangers beyond the bedroom. He despised my domineering ways, and I was fed up with his endless rules and restrictions. So, when my body was taken over by a so-called “strategy girl,” I expected nothing from him. Why would I? The docile, obedient wife she pretended to be was exactly the kind of woman he wanted. Anyway, this “strategy girl” wasn’t an ordinary person. She was crossed into this novel world, my world, from her reality, guided by a system with one goal—to seduce the male lead, my husband. Her success? It was not about love. It was about sleeping with him. In her pursuit of this twisted mission, my soul was forced out of my own body. Now, I was nothing but a wandering spirit, stuck near my stolen form, powerless to take it back. However, while I was cast out, I could hear her thoughts loud and clear. While she played the perfect wife, embodying everything Cassian supposedly desired, I could only watch. Yet, to my surprise, the man who loathed me seemed to notice the cracks in her act. With a darkened expression, Cassian grabbed “me” by the throat, his voice trembling as he demanded, “Who the hell are you? And where is my Aurelia?”
I got into a car accident on the highway while rushing to meet a client. The deafening crash sent my vision spinning wildly. Just before I lost consciousness, a single thought lingered in my mind. “Looks like I’ve lost this client, and once again. I’ve failed to beat Cassian this month.” What a bitter defeat. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself floating midair—just a soul, weightless and detached. Below me, my body lay on a hospital bed, and sitting beside it was Cassian. His sharp features carried a cold, austere look, but beneath it, there was a hint of weariness etched across his face. I was stunned. Wasn’t he supposed to be abroad, closing a deal? Before I could process the situation, a foreign voice echoed in my ears—strangely, it was coming from my own body. “So, this is my new vessel? Not bad. The original female lead must have been an idiot, competing with the male lead for clients. Well, no matter. Once I finish my mission, her wonderful life will be mine. Men are just slaves to their desires. The system really underestimated me with this assignment.” The voice prattled on incessantly, yet the person on the bed hadn’t moved an inch. Was this… the new soul inhabiting my body? Frowning, I listened closely and quickly pieced together my predicament. The accident had jarred my soul loose from my body. When I tried to approach the bed and reclaim what was mine, an invisible force repelled me. It didn’t take long to understand—I couldn’t regain control, at least not for now. My body was being occupied by this so-called “strategy girl.” As I was still digesting this cruel twist, the person on the bed stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered, signaling her awakening. Cassian immediately noticed and pressed the call button, summoning the doctors. When the strategy girl opened her eyes and saw Cassian, a flash of awe glimmered in her gaze, though she quickly masked it. Then, her screeching inner monologue hit me like a hammer. “Oh my God! Is that the male lead, Cassian Hawthorne? He’s so handsome! Rich, powerful, and charming—how could the original female lead not fall for him? Well, he’s mine now. Tee-hee.” I couldn’t deny it. Cassian was indeed the kind of man who turned heads—a lethal combination of refined elegance and unapologetic dominance. While the strategy girl squealed inwardly, she remembered she needed to mimic my personality. Turning her head, she spoke in a tone of feigned indifference, “Why are you here?” Almost immediately, her inner voice returned, smug and triumphant. “Good thing the system gave me a full briefing on the original female lead’s character. She’s cold and distant toward the male lead. Hmm, this whole ‘loveless marriage’ dynamic is kind of fun. I bet I can complete my mission in a month—tops!” Cassian didn’t seem to suspect anything unusual. Lowering his gaze, he replied with biting sarcasm, “I came to make sure you weren’t dead. I can’t deal with the family fallout if you are. Rest up—I’ve got work to do.” Straightening his posture, he turned and left, his black coat sweeping behind him. I felt a twinge of disappointment, though it was more of a resigned acknowledgment. After all, Cassian and I had always been adversaries.
From the strategy girl’s incessant inner chatter, I pieced together her mission. She had three months to seduce Cassian, with her success measured by completing a series of sexual tasks with him. I couldn’t help but feel baffled. What kind of twisted system assigns such a ridiculous task? But in a cruel twist of irony, the setup wasn’t entirely mismatched. Cassian and I clashed on almost everything. Almost. When it came to the bedroom, though, we were surprisingly… compatible. I was headstrong by nature, but in bed, I never seemed to hold the upper hand. In the end, I could only endure, pinned beneath him, hurling curses in between shaky breaths. “Bastard…” Cassian would always lean in, chuckling softly in my ear, his movements unintentionally gentler as he drew out my pleasure. Our relationship was anything but normal, yet the thought of the strategy girl using my body to do those things with Cassian made my stomach churn. Meanwhile, her thoughts grew more gleeful. She sifted through the system’s files, her mind buzzing with plans. “He actually just walked out? Hah, once I win him over, he’ll be begging for my love. This is all the original female lead’s fault. But no matter—once I finish the mission, I can stay in this world forever as a rich man’s wife!” Her words hit me like a splash of icy water. She hadn’t spelled it out, but the implications were clear. Once her mission succeeded, I would lose any chance of regaining my body. And as a disembodied soul, how long could I linger in this world? Eventually, I’d fade into nothingness, my existence snuffed out entirely.
The strategy girl had started making her move. She got out of bed, still in her hospital gown, and went to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Satisfied, she ran her fingers over her face before heading to the door. But just as she tried to step out, Cassian’s assistant blocked her path. His tone was professional, almost robotic. “Mrs. Hawthorne, you’ve only just woken up. If you need anything, please let me know. For now, I must insist you return to bed and rest.” The strategy girl frowned, clearly displeased. “I’m fine. Discharge me. I need to get back to work.” The assistant didn’t so much as blink, as if her response had been entirely predictable. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hawthorne. Mr. Hawthorne has instructed me to prioritize your recovery.” They stared each other down for what felt like ages, but eventually, she gave in. “Fine. If I can’t work, I can at least rest at home. The doctor already said I’m fine. Tell Cassian I want to go home. I can’t stand being in the hospital any longer.” The assistant hesitated for a moment. After receiving Cassian’s approval through his earpiece, he stepped aside. “Understood, Mrs. Hawthorne. I’ll arrange for your discharge immediately.” She had been staying in a VIP suite, so all her belongings were already packed. A sleek Maybach waited downstairs to take her home. Her expression remained calm, but her inner thoughts betrayed her excitement. “A Maybach? And all this just to take me home? Incredible. This life is all mine now—the system didn’t lie. The sooner I get home, the sooner I can sleep with him and complete my mission. Cassian’s body looks good. I definitely won’t regret this part.” I looked up sharply. Even though I knew Cassian wasn’t desperate enough to touch someone recovering from an accident, I couldn’t shake my unease. Cassian was my last hope. Would he notice anything strange about her tonight?
Dinner was already prepared when we arrived home. The maids had outdone themselves, but the meal passed in near silence, aside from the occasional glance the strategy girl threw in Cassian’s direction. Cassian was the first to stand. He poured himself a glass of milk, clearly intending to retreat to his study. The strategy girl instinctively reached for a cup and moved toward the milk jug. Cassian froze mid-step. Her hand faltered. “Crap! I forgot—didn’t the original female lead have a milk allergy? Seriously, she can’t even drink milk? What a disaster!” She scrambled for an excuse, her frustration spilling over in her thoughts. She wasn’t wrong. I did avoid milk, but not because of any physical allergy. It was psychological. When I grew up, my parents had been incredibly strict. Every part of my life was controlled—what I ate, how much, when. Junk food was forbidden, and by the time I hit puberty, every meal was logged and approved to maintain my figure. Dinner was balanced but joyless. Even my nights ended with a forced glass of milk under my mother’s watchful eye. I’d drink it obediently, only to gag myself over the sink the moment she left the room. The smell of milk suffocated me. After I married Cassian, I finally gained a little weight. No one told me what to eat or drink anymore. Milk never touched my lips, and Cassian knew that. He stopped in his tracks, his gaze turning back to the dining table. The strategy girl didn’t miss a beat. She poured the milk into the cup, set it on the far end of the table, and said casually, “Selene, there’s a little milk left here. Drink it when you’re done cleaning up.” Yawning theatrically, she brushed past Cassian and headed upstairs. “That scared me to death! I almost blew my cover. Good thing I thought fast. The original female lead was always kind to the staff so that little act shouldn’t seem suspicious.” Cassian didn’t say a word. His hand lingered on the banister as he watched her disappear into the bedroom. Then, slowly, he resumed climbing the stairs.
He turned away, his expression hidden, but I already knew the truth. She had passed his first test. Cassian went to his study. He was always busy, and after flying back from overseas, his workload had only piled up. By the time he finished, it was well past midnight. When he returned to the bedroom, the strategy girl was already asleep. In the darkness, Cassian’s brows furrowed as he gently touched the bandage on her forehead. The injuries from the accident weren’t severe, just minor bruises and swelling, yet his fingers brushed over the gauze with surprising care. His hand lingered and then moved downward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. There it was—a tiny red birthmark just behind her ear. His gaze darkened as he examined her inch by inch, searching for… something. But everything seemed normal. Eventually, he sighed softly, pulled the blanket over her, and lay down beside her. Cassian’s breathing soon evened out, but the strategy girl, with her back turned to him, suddenly opened her eyes. She revealed a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with confidence. I felt a pang of disappointment, though it was exactly what I had expected. When it came to appearances, there was nothing to find fault with—after all, it was still my body. “So, he’s suspicious after all.” She mused, her thoughts filled with amusement. “Good thing I’m in the original female lead’s body. There’s no way he’ll figure it out. And wow, wasn’t he kind of gentle just now? Guess the original female lead was too boring for him. Finishing this mission is going to be a breeze.”
Cassian had always been a staunch materialist, scoffing at the notion of souls or spirits. Tonight’s suspicions, I imagined, were born out of fear that someone might be impersonating me. Once he ruled that out, he wouldn’t care anymore. If anything, the more obedient and agreeable the strategy girl appeared, the less he’d bother to question her. After all, in Cassian’s mind, a compliant, understanding wife was far more preferable. Whether it was truly me didn’t matter to him. Our marriage had been an accident from the start. Both of our families had been close for generations, and Cassian and I had grown up as classmates. We never got along. Back in school, we competed over grades. Once we started working, it became a battle over projects. Neither of us ever backed down. And yet, despite this contentious relationship, our families were delighted. We were well-matched in background and upbringing, having grown up under their watchful eyes. Most importantly, our families were equals in status. There was no grand romance, no dramatic love or hate. Cassian and I were simply bound together for a lifetime. After we married, I gained some freedom from my family’s suffocating control. Cassian gave me shares in his company, making me the second-largest shareholder, right after him. With fewer restrictions, I poured myself into work. At times, even Cassian couldn’t stand it. He would close my laptop with an air of authority and say, “Take a break. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.” But I always insisted on finishing what I had started. People often wondered why I worked so relentlessly when my husband was the CEO. The answer was simple—for myself. I knew our marriage wasn’t built on love. It was more of a transaction. Cassian offering me shares was his show of sincerity, and I was determined to make the most of it. This world has no permanent safety net. If I were to leave him, I wanted to ensure I could live extraordinarily well on my own. That had always been my goal. But now, it seemed all my efforts were for someone else’s benefit. The strategy girl had taken over my body, easily claiming everything I’d worked for. It was something no amount of effort could undo. A wave of helplessness washed over me. The faint rustle of movement in the room snapped me out of my thoughts. Time seemed to move differently when you didn’t need sleep. Before I realized it, dawn had already arrived. Cassian, ever disciplined, rose early for his morning run. The strategy girl was still sound asleep. He tucked the blanket around her with care, gazing at her sleeping face for a long moment before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. His eyes held a rare softness. I instinctively reached up to touch my own face. Had he ever looked at me like that? We rarely kissed, not even during sex. I always felt that intimacy like that required genuine affection, and we… we were little more than business partners. For so many mornings, I had woken up to an empty bed. It had never occurred to me that he might have done such things while I was still asleep. For the first time, I questioned my feelings toward him. A flicker of hope sparked within me. What if… what if Cassian discovered the truth? What if he realized that the person inside that body wasn’t me, that my soul had been replaced? But over the following days, that hope began to dwindle.
Cassian went about his routine as usual, busy with work and rarely spending time with the strategy girl except at night. Meanwhile, the strategy girl was growing increasingly comfortable in my role. Everyone close to us knew about the car accident, so no one bothered her with work matters. She seamlessly slipped into the life of a wealthy wife. Luxury items were delivered to the house in a steady stream, and the spa became her new favorite haunt. I had owned plenty of designer goods before, but I’d never had much interest in them. Cassian, however, was stubborn. Every time a new collection was launched, he made sure it was delivered to our home. Out of courtesy, I would pick one or two items, just to humor him. The strategy girl wasn’t so reserved. She used my cards to pay for everything, careful not to raise Cassian’s suspicions. Standing in front of the walk-in closet filled with bags, she smiled smugly, satisfaction written all over her face. “Being rich feels amazing. I could never afford these bags before, but now they’re all mine. Cassian will be home soon. I need to clean up and make my move tonight. Once the mission is complete, I’ll plan a trip abroad. I heard he has a private jet—I’ve never been on one!” She was lost in her fantasy when the phone rang, interrupting her daydream. She was getting her nails done at home, and the manicurist was in the middle of attaching nail tips when the sound startled her. Annoyed, she yanked her hand away and glanced at the nails with a frown. “What is this mess? Your technique is awful!” The manicurist stammered an apology, bowing her head. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’ll fix it right away. Please let me try again.” The call was from my assistant, Grayson. As the phone rang a second time, the strategy girl impatiently put it on speaker. “Hello?” she snapped. “Ms. Swift, I apologize for disturbing you, but there’s an issue with our collaboration with Luminaris Industries. Their team is already here at the office. Would you be able to…” Grayson’s voice was tense, clearly indicating the urgency of the matter. Panic surged within me. The Luminaris Industries deal was something I had painstakingly secured after countless meetings. It wasn’t just crucial for me—it was vital for Cassian and the entire company. But the strategy girl had no idea. She didn’t understand the complexities of managing a business or handling partnerships, let alone navigating a situation like this.
She hesitated for a moment and then lowered her voice, adopting a weak tone. “You know I just got discharged. My head’s still killing me. You handle it for now, and I’ll review the files you sent.” I’d always been a workaholic, someone who kept pushing through illness to get the job done. People were usually the ones urging me to take a break. I was fiercely competitive, refusing to show weakness. This was the first time “I” had ever admitted to feeling unwell. Grayson wouldn’t dare neglect me after hearing that. His tone even carried a hint of guilt. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Swift. This came out of nowhere—no one expected it. Please don’t overexert yourself. I’ll talk to Luminaris Industries in the meantime. You just rest.” When the call ended, she let out a long sigh of relief but made no move to act. Hours passed as her manicure session dragged on. When it was finally done, she admired the tiny gemstones on her nails for a while before casually opening her laptop. The files Grayson had sent were packed with dense tables and technical terms, pages of professional jargon. “What the hell is this? Just looking at it gives me a headache. How would I understand any of this? Ugh, the original female lead isn’t here, and I’m stuck cleaning up her mess. What kind of idiot chooses work over living the life of a rich wife?” She scrolled through the documents, her frown deepening with every line. Even someone as skilled as Cassian would need time to get through this, let alone her. These files were directly tied to the project I had been leading—a project I knew inside and out. She stubbornly kept scrolling but gave up when it became clear she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Her long nails tapped irritably on the keyboard before she glanced at the clock. It was already nine at night, and Cassian still wasn’t back. I hovered beside her, fully absorbed in the data on the screen, quickly pinpointing the problem areas. I was desperate to reclaim my body, reorganize the files, and meet with Luminaris Industries myself. This project was the culmination of my hard work, and I knew she’d never appreciate its value. But every time I tried to approach her, an invisible force repelled me. After multiple failed attempts, I could only watch helplessly as the minutes ticked by. She eventually pulled out her phone and began scrolling through entertainment news. By midnight, she grew tired and simply went to bed. I stayed by her side, unable to rest, as the hours crawled on. Cassian didn’t return that night. The next morning, as the strategy girl yawned her way downstairs, she ran into him just as he walked through the door. His suit was slightly wrinkled, his features showing signs of fatigue, but he was still effortlessly handsome. “Luminaris Industries is taken care of,” he said. “Grayson mentioned your headache. I’ll have the doctor schedule a full check-up. I can’t have my parents worrying.” His gaze shifted downward, landing on her newly manicured nails. The rounded tips and shimmering gemstones caught the morning light, casting tiny reflections. “You got your nails done?” She froze, caught off guard.
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