Luara exited her room and descended the grand staircase with a slight stiffness in her limbs. Every step felt a little awkward, like trying to walk in someone else's body—which, technically, she was. The plush carpet softened her steps, but the weight of her new life pressed heavily with each movement.
The living room below was spacious, flooded with warm sunlight filtering through tall windows. Elegant cream-colored sofas and a marble coffee table gave it the air of a luxury magazine spread. On one of the armchairs sat her mother, Claire Velvette, dressed in a tailored powder-blue blouse, tablet in hand and concern written across her otherwise polished expression.
"Luara, why are you walking so stiffly?" Claire asked, raising an arched brow. "Are you alright?"
Luara blinked, caught off guard, then forced a smile. "No, Mom—just a sleep cramp, I guess."
She made her way to the coffee table and plucked a shiny apple from the crystal fruit bowl, biting into it without a second thought, her previous self's habits kicking in.
Claire clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Luara, at least try to be ladylike in the morning. You're not a teenager anymore."
Luara rolled her eyes instinctively but swallowed her retort that was about to come. Old Luara would have snapped back. But Xingyi knew better now—especially if she wanted to survive this story she needed to act like Laura.
Claire set the tablet down with a sigh. "Your father wanted to talk to you last night, by the way. He's considering cutting your credit card limit."
Luara choked slightly on her bite, straightening up with indignation. "What?! I asked for a raise, not a cut! How can he do that? Am I really his beloved daughter?"
Her voice came out higher and sharper than intended, her spoiled instincts kicking in. Claire merely gave her a flat look that said you brought this on yourself.
Of course she had to act like her. Luara Velvette was infamous for extravagant spending, luxury shopping sprees, and treating money like air. It was one of the things readers hated most about her. But now…
Now that she was living in this character, Xingyi knew that reputation had to change.
Not overnight, though subtly.
So instead, she sighed and added with a slight pout, "I mean, I was going to donate to charity this month... eventually."
Claire didn't look convinced.
"Oh, and your father wants you to visit the company sometime next week," she added, shifting back to her tablet. "He thinks you should be more involved in the business. He says you can't just spend the money in company name without contributing something."
Right. The company.
Luara's—her—father was the CEO of Velvette Global, a multinational luxury conglomerate that specialized in fashion, cosmetics, and high-end hospitality. It was a fictional empire Xingyi had created to reflect old-money power wrapped in glossy modern branding. The kind of company that appeared on magazine covers with headlines like "Legacy Meets Luxury."
She rubbed her temple. If she remembered the plot right, after some chapters it revolved around Ciel's interest in acquiring Velvette Global's hotel chain division. That meant...
She was about to run straight into the male lead again.
Wonderful truly good written plot coming to haunt her now, even if she wanted to cry no tears were coming, she needed to be in character.
Luara chewed her lip as Claire droned on about family reputation, responsibility, and brand image. But her mind was racing far ahead of the conversation.
I need to buy time.
She knew what came next in the original plot. The business merger arc. Her flirtation with Ciel turning into public humiliation. The beginning of her end.
I need to delay my meeting with the male lead as long as possible.
Her first thought was escape. Maybe I could visit Grandma in the countryside? That would get me out of the city for a while...
But she immediately shook her head.
No. That wouldn't work. The original Luara hated the countryside. She made a whole scene once about her shoes getting muddy during a garden party. If she suddenly claimed she wanted to spend a week surrounded by trees and bugs, everyone would know something was off.
Think, Luara. Think of something more applicable in current situation where is your imaginative author brain make use of it or it got swapped with the body too, now I am dumb Laura Velvette inside and out.
Her eyes darted to the tablet in her mother's hands, then back to the expensive apple she was nibbling like a prop. Something softer. More believable. Something unexpected... but still in-character.
Yes!
She straightened, brushing her hair behind her ear as an idea bloomed.
If I can't escape the plot… maybe I can change the players.
"The female lead," she whispered under her breath.
Elara Monique. Quiet, kind, clever. The one girl Luara bullied the most.
In the novel, Elara had every reason to hate her. She never fought back, but she never forgot. It was that quiet grudge that made her forgive Ciel for discarding Luara like trash after making use of her. Because in Elara's eyes, Luara deserved it.
But if Luara—this Luara—could get on Elara's good side now...
Then maybe Elara wouldn't see her as a villain.
And maybe making some changes to the original plot would make change in her tragic fate too.
She leaned back with a smug little smile. "That's it," she muttered. "Operation: Befriend the Heroine."
Claire glanced up, suspicious. "What was that?"
Luara blinked innocently. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking I might hosting a reunion party. You know... for socializing."
Her mother narrowed her eyes. "You? Voluntarily?"
Luara let out a soft, elegant laugh and stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her designer lounge pants. "Well, I am the face of Velvette Global, aren't I? Can't let people say I'm cold-hearted."
As she walked away, Luara's mind sharpened. If she wanted to survive, she had to win over the Female lead in her group.
And do it before the plot started moving again.