After evicting the crowd, I returned to work.

Gotta eat.

Receptionist winked: "Boss waited days for you. Rumor says: promotion and raise."

Boss grinned, handing me coffee: "Vivi! You're viral! Millions of followers! How about leading our new digital division?"

"Salary: This number. Plus bonuses."

He flashed five fingers.

I agreed. Pay was good.

Within a month, I became a top livestreamer. Sales boomed. Brands fought to sponsor me.

Lily and I teamed up—she was shameless and I was sharp. Perfect combo.

"Welcome back, besties! Tonight's special: skincare that survived being pelted with rotten eggs. I can personally vouch."

The comments went wild. Self-deprecating humor from the girl who'd been publicly humiliated? People loved it.

Turns out, authenticity sells better than perfection.

My bank account recovered fast. Then surpassed anything Dad ever gave me.

One night, after a record-breaking stream, I sat on my balcony with Mochi and a glass of wine.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

"Vivi? It's Sophia."

I almost choked on my wine.

"Before you hang up—I'm calling from jail. Ten minutes of phone time."

"What do you want?"

"To warn you. Ben's out. He posted bail. And he's angry."

"Why would you warn me?"

A long pause. "Because your mom was genuinely my friend once. Before I became... this."

"And because the things I told your father about you—the STD, the money, the suicide threats—Ben's planning to use those against you in court. He's suing for defamation, claiming you and your father ruined his reputation."

"He ruined his own reputation by sleeping with his boss's wife."

"He doesn't see it that way. Be careful."

She hung up.

I stared at the phone. Then called my lawyer.

Two can play that game, Ben. And unlike last life, this time I fight back.