Amidst the clinking glasses and celebratory chatter of the success party, Brandon, my fiancé, stood by as his ex-girlfriend, Cassandra, “accidentally” spilled an entire glass of red wine all over my design blueprint. That wasn’t just any blueprint. It was the final draft for the ‘Skyway Haven’ project, a masterpiece I’d poured three months of my life into, working endless nights. It was the design that had just clinched the Pritzker Prize. The crimson liquid spread across the paper like a gaping, hideous wound, instantly seeping into every fiber. The air went dead silent. Every eye in the room pivoted to me, eager for the drama to unfold. Before I could even open my mouth, Brandon moved. He strode forward, not towards me, but to shield a seemingly flustered Cassandra behind him. He didn’t even glance at the ruined blueprint that held my heart and soul. He looked at me, his brows tightly furrowed, his voice laced with annoyance and a hint of accusation. “Sera, what’s the big deal? It’s just a blueprint. You can just draw another one when you get back.” “Cassandra just got back to the country, she doesn’t understand anything. Don’t scare her.”
I laughed. Seriously? Scare *her*? I hadn’t said a single word. How was I scaring her? I looked at Cassandra, nestled behind him. Her face wore a perfectly crafted mask of panic and innocence, but I saw a faint, triumphant smirk hidden in the corner of her eye. Such a flawless act. Then I looked back at Brandon. This man, whom I’d stood by through thick and thin, from nothing to founding ‘Brandon Architecture.’ This man, who’d built half his empire on my designs. Right now, all his protection and concern were focused on another woman. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an icy hand, tightening inch by painful inch. “Brandon,” I heard my own voice, eerily calm, “you know what this blueprint means.” “It means our company can secure that multi-billion dollar prime land in the city’s South District. It means your ‘Brandon Architecture’ can leapfrog to become an industry leader.” “And you say, ‘just draw another one’?” My question choked him. His face turned ugly. “Sera, don’t throw a tantrum out here. I’ll explain everything to you when we get home.” He lowered his voice, as if he was bestowing a great favor on me. I just felt sick. The whispers around me buzzed like flies in my ears. “Tsk, Designer Sera is just too aggressive. She doesn’t give Mr. Brandon any face.” “Exactly! Designer Cassandra is so gentle. She looks like the kind of woman who truly knows how to elevate her man’s career.” “Men, they prefer a woman who knows how to soothe and charm. Who wants a workaholic who just draws blueprints all day…” My head buzzed, a sharp cramp in my chest coupled with days of sleepless fatigue washed over me. My vision started to black out. My last conscious thought was seeing Brandon pat Cassandra’s shoulder reassuringly, then looking at me with an expression that screamed ‘trouble.’ That look, like a steel needle, pierced through all my illusions. The next second, I completely lost consciousness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a strange ceiling, and the air smelled of cheap air freshener. I wiggled my fingers, feeling light as a feather, yet incredibly heavy. No, this wasn’t my body. I shot upright and rushed to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a young, unfamiliar face. Delicate, with a hint of timidness. It was Chloe, Brandon’s new assistant. How was I here? In her body? Where was my body? A bizarre and terrifying thought exploded in my mind. Soul swap. Damn it. I didn’t have time to think. One thought consumed me – my body! I grabbed the keys and phone from the table and bolted out of the tiny rental apartment like a madwoman. It was already late at night. Relying on memory, I used Chloe’s fingerprint to unlock the door and burst into the home Brandon and I shared. No one was home. My body wasn’t here. Brandon wasn’t here either. A massive wave of panic gripped me. I could barely stand. Where were they? What was happening to my body right now? I forced myself to calm down. Brandon. Yes, find Brandon. I used Chloe’s phone to dial his number. It rang for a long time before he picked up. The background noise was loud, like he was in a bar. “Hello? Chloe? What’s up this late?” Brandon’s voice was slurred with alcohol and impatience. “Mr. Brandon, Designer Ser… Designer Sera?” I pinched my voice, trying to sound like the timid little assistant. “She collapsed. She’s at the hospital, I had a nurse look after her.” He answered carelessly. Hospital. My heart eased slightly, then immediately clenched again. He said… he had a nurse look after me? He wasn’t with me? “Then… where are you, sir?” I asked, trembling. From the other end, Cassandra’s sweet, soft voice chirped, “Brandon, who is it? Come drink with me!” Brandon immediately responded in a gentle, soothing tone, “Just an assistant. You enjoy yourself, I’ll be right there.” Then, he turned back to the phone, his voice dropping eight degrees, instantly cold. “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t. Do your job. I’m hanging up.” The call disconnected. I stood in the empty living room, phone in hand, feeling utterly chilled. I collapsed from exhaustion for his business, ended up in the hospital. And he was out, partying with his ‘one that got away’ at a bar. “Do my job?” Hah, what a joke. I opened Chloe’s SnapChat. Pinned at the top was the company’s core project chat. Brandon had just sent a message to the group. “@everyone, tomorrow morning at 9 AM, an emergency meeting for the ‘Skyway Haven’ project will be held. Designer Cassandra will be joining us as a special consultant to discuss the subsequent design plans.” My pupils constricted sharply. Special consultant? Cassandra? An interior designer who only handles soft furnishings, consulting on a world-class architectural project? What kind of freaking consultant? Brandon, what exactly are you trying to do? I clenched the phone tightly, my knuckles white from the strain. No. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. I had to figure all of this out. Under Chloe’s identity, I took a taxi to the company. The office building was pitch black at night, save for the lights on in ‘Brandon Architecture’s’ CEO office on the top floor. My heart sank. Who would be at the office this late? I quietly took the elevator up, using the assistant’s access card to swipe open the glass door. The CEO’s office door was ajar, and I heard hushed voices from inside. It was Brandon and Cassandra. I held my breath, pressing myself against the door like a ghost. “Brandon, are you really going to do this? Change Sera’s name to mine? If she finds out…” Cassandra’s voice held a hint of false hesitation. “She won’t know.” Brandon’s voice was cold as ice. “She’s in the hospital right now. By the time she gets out, the project contract will be signed, and it’ll be a done deal.” My blood, at that moment, froze completely. He was going to… change my name on the blueprint? He was going to hand over my painstaking work, my life’s blood, to this woman? “But it’s Sera’s hard work after all. That design concept…” “What concept of hers?” Brandon scoffed, his voice filled with disdain. “That entire concept, wasn’t it just an extension of your university concept draft from back then? At the end of the day, you’re the original creator. I’m just giving you back what should have been yours.” “Besides, while Sera’s design is good, it’s too focused on the technicalities, completely lacking your commercial savvy and market appeal. Having you sign it, using your reputation as a brilliant, internationally-trained designer for promotion, will be much more beneficial for the company’s IPO.” *Boom!* Something inside me just *snapped*. So that’s how it was. In his eyes, I was just a tool, too focused on craftsmanship. All my talent, all my efforts, were just stepping stones for him to package the company and pursue its IPO. And Cassandra, she was the truly talented “original creator” in his mind, the one who could bring him greater benefits. “Trading my talent for love.” The belief I once held so firmly now seemed like a colossal joke. I clung to the cold door, trembling like a leaf. My stomach churned, and I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate not to throw up. Inside, Cassandra let out a satisfied sigh. She pressed against Brandon, her voice soft and alluring. “Brandon, you’re so good to me. I knew it, you always had feelings for me.” “Silly girl.” Brandon’s voice held a hint of tenderness. “If your family hadn’t insisted you go abroad back then, we would never have separated. Now that you’re back, I won’t let you suffer a single grievance.” “What about Seraphina? You two…” “Sera and I, that was nothing more than a business arrangement. Her technical skill, my market, that’s all. Once the company goes public and stabilizes, I’ll tell her everything.” “Don’t worry. The position of Mrs. Brandon will only ever be yours.” Every single word, like poisoned blades, slowly tearing my heart to shreds. A business arrangement… that’s all… I accompanied him through the toughest times, I let him use all my patents for free, I poured myself into building his business empire. In the end, all I got was “that’s all.” I couldn’t listen anymore. I was afraid I’d kick down that door and drag that despicable pair down with me. I stumbled back, fleeing into the adjacent breakroom, my body sliding down to the floor against the cold wall. I hugged my knees, burying my face. No tears came. There’s no grief like the death of hope. I just felt that the past ten years had been an intricately orchestrated scam. And I, was the most ridiculous, most foolish clown. I don’t know how long passed, but the office door opened. Brandon and Cassandra walked out, intimately embracing. Through the crack in the breakroom door, I saw Cassandra stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to Brandon’s lips. “I’ll head back now. See you at the meeting tomorrow.” “Okay, be careful on your way.” Brandon watched her leave, then turned and went back into his office. I heard the clicking of a mouse and the tapping of a keyboard from inside. What was he doing? He was changing the designer’s name on my blueprint! A metallic taste rose in my throat. I pushed myself up against the wall, a towering hatred igniting in my chest. Brandon. Cassandra. You thought I was a fool. You treated everything I had as spoils of war, to be plundered at will. You thought I was lying helpless in a hospital bed, at your mercy? Good. Oh, so good. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, looking at Chloe’s timid face in the mirror. From today onwards, things would be different. What you owe me, I will collect every single penny, with interest! I wasn’t Seraphina anymore. I was… a vengeful spirit.
The next day, 9 AM. The meeting room at ‘Brandon Architecture’ was thick with tension. Under Chloe’s identity, I stood in the corner, head bowed, holding a cup of coffee, like I was invisible. Brandon sat at the head of the table, looking smug and triumphant. Cassandra sat beside him, dressed in a custom-tailored suit, her makeup flawless, clearly embodying the role of a hostess. In her hand was a document—my ‘Skyway Haven’ design proposal. But the designer’s name on the cover now boldly read: Cassandra. That was quick. In just one night, she’d fully usurped my spot. The executives in the room were all seasoned professionals. Seeing the situation, no one dared to speak first. Brandon cleared his throat. “Everyone, Designer Sera is temporarily unable to participate in the project due to health reasons. But the project schedule cannot wait. Therefore, I specifically invited Designer Cassandra to be our special consultant and lead the upcoming work.” He paused, then picked up the proposal from the table. “This final proposal for ‘Skyway Haven’ actually has its core concept rooted in Designer Cassandra’s early creative vision. One could say, she is the soul of this project. It is only fitting that she takes over.” I almost threw up on the spot. I’d seen shameless people before, but never this shameless. To describe theft so eloquently, Brandon, you’re truly a piece of work. The executives exchanged glances. Finally, the company’s technical director, Mr. Hayes, who had worked with me for years, couldn’t help but speak up. “Mr. Brandon, isn’t this against protocol? Designer Sera’s proposal…” “Mr. Hayes.” Brandon’s eyes instantly turned cold. “Are you questioning my decision?” Mr. Hayes’ face paled. He dared not say another word. Brandon seemed pleased with this ‘setting an example’ approach. He turned to Cassandra, his tone softening again. “Cassandra, why don’t you share your ideas with everyone?” Cassandra stood up, a perfect business smile gracing her lips. She turned on the projector and began to speak fluently. Every word she uttered was something I had painstakingly articulated to Brandon, night after night. From design inspiration to structural mechanics, to the application of environmentally friendly materials. She recited it all flawlessly, as if it were her own. Shameless. Absolutely freaking shameless. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. Calm down, Seraphina, calm down. You are Chloe right now. You cannot act impulsively. I took a deep breath, my gaze sweeping across everyone present. Those executives who once smiled at me, calling me the “company’s anchor,” now had their heads bowed, pretending to take notes diligently. Not a single person stood up to say a word on my behalf. Fine. This was all just fine. I saw their true colors clearly now. Fair-weather friends, quick to curry favor. A company built on plagiarism and lies, does it really deserve to go public? In their dreams. Halfway through the meeting, Cassandra started discussing the project’s core technology—my exclusively developed ‘Suspended Seismic-Resistant Structure.’ This was core confidential information I hadn’t yet patented, only discussed with Brandon. “…So, this suspended structure will be the biggest highlight of our project, and our ultimate trump card to surpass all competitors.” Cassandra spoke with passionate fervor, as if she were the inventor of the technology herself. Brandon nodded in satisfaction. Just then, I moved. Holding the coffee, I pretended to slip, my body “accidentally” bumping into the projector’s power cord. *Click.* The screen instantly went black. The entire conference room plunged into darkness and chaos. “What happened?!” “Ouch! Who did that?!” Under the cover of darkness, I quickly, with lightning speed, plugged the USB drive I had been clutching into the main conference computer’s USB port. Inside was the “gift” I had prepared overnight. A tiny virus program. It wouldn’t destroy the computer. It would only, at a specific time, send a specific file to specific people. Having done all that, I immediately pulled out the USB drive, scurried back to my corner, and feigned panic. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” I shrieked in Chloe’s voice. The lights were quickly turned back on. Everyone glared at me, the “culprit.” Brandon’s face was as black as a thundercloud. “Chloe! What are you doing?! You can’t even handle such a small task!” I lowered my head, my shoulders shaking, looking like I was about to cry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brandon, I… my legs just went weak…” Cassandra walked over, feigning concern and helping me up. In a voice only we two could hear, she whispered: “An assistant should act like an assistant. Things that aren’t yours to touch, you’d best leave them alone.” Her eyes were full of warning and disdain. I sneered inwardly. Things not mine to touch? Cassandra, you’ll soon find out whose things you’re touching right now. The meeting ended abruptly due to this small incident. Brandon called me into his office and gave me a furious dressing-down, finally punishing me by “deducting my entire bonus for the month.” I meekly accepted it. Walking out of the office, I glanced back at the closed door. Brandon, Cassandra. Enjoy your stolen victory. Because the countdown has already begun. For the next few days, I lived a double life. By day, I was the timid, clumsy little assistant, Chloe, in the CEO’s office. Serving coffee, making copies, being ordered around, and constantly enduring Cassandra’s sarcasm and deliberate provocations.
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