Chapter 1

"Jorie, is that a pair of black pantyhose?" Beatrice's sweet, innocent-sounding voice echoed through the cramped elevator. Every head immediately turned to my legs. "You're going on a date? "Wait—hold on! Didn't Mr. Radcliffe say you were meeting with Mr. Murray today to talk about the—" She cut herself off with a sharp gasp, covering her mouth as if she'd just uncovered the juiciest scandal. Her eyes went wide in exaggerated disbelief. Then, she buried her face in her hands, giggling and stamping her feet, letting out squeals of delight. "Oh wow! Someone's feeling naughty… Jorie's up to something!" The elevator went quiet, and everyone's glances and smirks barely concealed their mockery. That's when it hit me. I'd really been reborn. In my previous life, it all started around this time. Rumors about me began circulating within the company. Someone, I never found out who, started whispering that I'd slept my way into the sales manager position. Every expense report I submitted was for hotel stays. They described it with such convincing detail that it almost sounded real. But I was foolish enough to believe that the innocent would be vindicated. I threw myself completely into my work and paid no attention to the rumors. Since my expense claims kept getting rejected, I often yelled at the Finance Department during staff meetings. That only made it look like I was admitting the rumors were true. Then, one late night, Beatrice suddenly posted an expense report in the company's main group chat and tagged me. "Jorie, the Finance Department needs a break too. I can't process a reimbursement in the middle of the night. "Also, the naughty items you and Mr. Murray used aren't reimbursable. Sorry!" The group fell silent, as if no one had seen it. But the next second, screenshots of the chat were plastered all across the internet. Every detail of my life was dug up and posted online. "Marjorie Carpenter, a sales manager at her age? Come on. Who's buying that?" "Sales? More like selling herself." "I know Mr. Murray. He's got a wife and kids. Mistresses deserve to burn in hell!" "I work there too. Every one of her expense reports is for hotel stays!" "She's been the office slut for as long as anyone can remember!" I was still scrambling to manage the damage to the company's reputation. Meanwhile, Beatrice marched Ethan Murray's wife, Lily Spencer, right into my office. "Jorie, this lady's here to see you, but I remember you said no old women allowed without permission! "So I brought her by to check with you first." That sentence was, without a doubt, the final spark that set everything off. Lily flew into a rage and swung her bag at me. She was big and imposing, and she'd brought several friends with her. I was completely outnumbered. In the end, in front of all my subordinates, they stripped me bare and forced me to grovel, apologizing while recording the whole thing. Humiliation, anger, fear, and helplessness washed over me all at once. I looked around desperately, seeking help from the colleagues I had worked with. Instead, all I saw were their barely concealed smirks as they raised their phones to capture every moment. "Serves her right for acting so high and mighty all the time!" An intern I had mentored spat on the ground. "Seeing her like this makes me so happy. She's always acting so high and mighty when she makes me chase targets." My most trusted team member stood front and center, phone in hand. And my boyfriend, Cole Ulmer, the one everyone said was going places, covered Beatrice's eyes. I looked at him in utter despair as he spoke. "Bae, don't look. This is just grown-up filth." Without so much as a glance my way, he walked off. When the ordeal finally ended, I lay on the floor, bruised and scratched, my torn clothes barely clinging to me. I was completely exposed and utterly helpless. Colleagues walking by stepped over me as if I weren't even there. I clenched my jaw, and the cruelest revenge I could think of was to head up to the rooftop and jump. But as I fell, I saw Beatrice pulling up the real expense reports I'd submitted. One by one, she transferred the funds into her own account. "That bitch is finally dead! So much money—all mine now! And no one's left to question it! Perfect!" Beatrice had smeared my name and stolen my life, all over a measly 8,888-dollar reimbursement. The thought made my fingers tighten around the strap of my bag until my knuckles went white. Then, I raised my hand and slapped that hateful face with all my strength. The sharp crack echoed through the silent elevator.