"Xinxin, your mother’s saying this for your own good. If you go off to that island with Adrian Caldwell, all that’s waiting for you is hardship!"

"You’d be far better off with Director Stanton. You’d eat well, live well. Wouldn’t that be a fine life?"

Outside the door came Gemma Thornton’s voice. A moment later, a heavyset figure slipped into the room.

Vivienne Hartwell’s head felt thick and foggy, as if her skull were about to split apart.

Who was talking?

Hadn’t she stayed up all night reading a novel and then fallen asleep?

All at once, a fat hand reached over and started feeling across her face.

"What a pretty little thing..." The man’s rank, greasy smell hit her full in the face.

"Who—"

Alarm bells went off in Vivienne Hartwell’s mind. The second she forced her eyes open, she saw a bloated, oily face crammed close to hers, layers of flesh jiggling on it.

Then came the sharp sound of cloth tearing, and her chest turned cold.

Pure instinct took over. She jerked up her leg and drove her knee hard upward, straight into the man’s crotch.

"Get the hell off me!"

"Aagh—"

Her shout and the man’s scream burst out at nearly the same time, filling the whole room.

"Smack!"

One hand clamped over his groin, and with the other he swung hard and slapped her across the face.

"You filthy bitch! You’ve still got the nerve to fight back?

Listen good—if you serve me nice and proper today, I might let that Caldwell bastard off easy.

Otherwise, you can just wait and go suffer with him in that godforsaken wasteland!"

No sooner had he finished than the man bared his teeth and lunged at her again.

Xi?

This rotten place?

Those few words hit her like a spark to dry straw. A flood of strange memories rammed into her head, and Vivienne Hartwell went completely blank.

Good Lord... had she ended up inside a book?

And not just any book, but the one she had stayed up half the night reading—The Fake Heiress of the Seventies, Spoiled by the Toughest Officer?

That story was about Isabelle Thornton, the Hou family's adopted daughter. Even though she was a fake heiress, the whole family doted on her, and she lived a life sweet as syrup.

And who was she now?

She was actually the real daughter in the book—the cannon-fodder ex-wife of the male lead, the one who died young.

Vivienne Hartwell hadn't even had time to sort out the mess in her head.

That greasy man with the shiny bald forehead was staring straight at her loosened collar, his eyes sticky and filthy, the kind of look that made her skin crawl. He lowered his head and leaned in toward her.

She jerked up her leg and drove her knee hard into his groin again.

"Get off me!"

"Aaagh—"

Her sharp shout tangled with the man's scream once more.

Smack!

One hand clamped over his crotch while the other swung out and slapped her hard across the face.

"You filthy bitch! Still got the nerve to fight back?

Listen up good. Serve me nice and proper, make me feel good, and if I'm in a decent mood, maybe I'll spare that bastard Adrian Caldwell's life!

But if you make me unhappy, I'll smash his head open!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he threw himself at her again.

"Bang!"

Vivienne Hartwell gripped the vase she had just felt around for and smashed it hard against the back of the man's head.

The filthy look in the man's eyes froze at once. Then his whole body went stiff, and he dropped straight to the floor.

Vivienne stared at that bloated body sprawled beside the bed. Her heart was still pounding like mad, and she sucked in breath after breath, chest heaving.

At the same time, she felt a wave of heat rushing wildly through her body, like a fire had been lit inside her. From head to toe, she was burning up.

Just then, voices came from outside the door.

"Why's it gone so quiet in there? Don't tell me something went wrong?"

"What could go wrong? I specially got that stuff they use on livestock, and I even gave her extra. Maybe by now she's worn out with Director Cui and already fast asleep."

"Fine. When she wakes up, you'd better talk her around proper. Don't let her make a scene. She's still our own daughter. If she really kicks up trouble, it'll look bad on us too."

"Relax, will you? I already made it plain to her. If she won't behave and marry Director Cui, then Adrian Caldwell will be shot. She wouldn't dare make a fuss."

Gemma Thornton's certain, steady voice drifted in from outside.

A trace of coldness flashed across Vivienne's eyes.

The two people talking outside were this body's own father and mother.