The Real Heiress Slaps Back，Reclaiming My Billions

As a professional boxer, I was famous for two things: my vicious left hook and my lethal, foul-mouthed trash talk. Relying on my elite fighting skills and a tongue dipped in pure venom, I became a viral internet sensation. Just as I was riding high on my newfound fame, an accident sent me transmigrating into a twisted, high-society romance novel about swapped heiresses. I ended up as the tragic real daughter—the kind of gutless, crying doormat destined to be framed, abused, and having her organs stolen while never even standing up for herself. Looking at the smug, entitled fake heiress, I cracked my knuckles and went to work, slapping sense into her with both hands to clean up the family trash. When the delusional billionaire CEO gave me his greasy, arrogant smirk and claimed I was just acting out to get his attention, I swung my backhand and sent him flying into next week. One second, I was tearing into slimy paparazzi at an awards gala, taking down every bottom-feeder trying to dig up dirt on me. The next, I was dropped into an angsty, toxic melodramatic tragedy, stuck in the body of the biological daughter whose only purpose was to suffer and die for everyone else's character development. Right now, the story’s golden-boy billionaire, Zach, was pointing his finger in my face, while the fake heiress, Chloe, was leaning against his shoulder, sobbing her little eyes out like an innocent angel. "If you can't even handle basic PR, why the hell are you even her manager?" Zach barked. "Go out there right now and admit to the press that you were the one caught sneaking out of that hotel room yesterday! Not Chloe!" I raised an eyebrow, my eyes drifting over the cozy pair. Right on cue, a shrill, robotic scream erupted in my head. [Host, you must follow the rules of this world! You are bound to the original host’s tragic, passive persona. Complete the suffering, endure every humiliation, and only then can you return to your world!] The system’s warning made me sneer out loud. The original girl was the true heiress of the powerful Miller family. Even if a jealous nanny had swapped her at birth, royal blood was royal blood. A toxic tragedy? Real versus fake heiress? Painful body-double romance? Please. Once I rip their family fortune away and leave them in the gutter, they’ll learn to shut up. I crossed my arms, looking Chloe up and down with utter contempt. "Save the act, you little viper. You’ve been sneaking into his bed more times than anyone can count. Who are you trying to play the virgin saint for?" Seeing me attack her, Zach panicked and quickly shielded Chloe behind him. I cracked my knuckles, tilting my head up. "My bad. I got so caught up tearing into her that I almost forgot to roast you, pretty boy." Both of them stared at me as if they’d seen a demon crawl out of hell. Outside the luxury trailer, a crowd of crew members, actors, and directors had gathered, whispering. I cleared my throat and went full throttle. "Dressed up in a three-piece suit like an actual human being, but when your dirty little secrets blow up, you don't even have the spine to own it? What a cowardly piece of trash. Trying to make a scapegoat take the fall for you? If there isn’t a mirror in this trailer, go piss on the floor and look at your own reflection. Check yourself before you open your filthy mouth." Zach’s face flushed purple with rage. He lunged forward to grab me, but I whipped out my phone, shoving the camera straight in his face. "The sterling Sterling family doesn’t own this entire city, sweetie. Think carefully before you throw a punch. Unless, of course, you want your little white lotus's career flushed down the toilet right here and now!" Chloe was clearly terrified of losing her public image. She clung desperately to Zach's chest, playing the delicate victim. "Sasha, I know you resent me... I know I’m not Mom and Dad’s real daughter, but I—" "Oh, so you do know you’re a fake?" I cut her off coldly. "Then why the hell are you standing here acting like a fragile little angel? If you know you don't belong, pack your bags and get the hell out." I leaned in and patted Chloe’s cheek with mocking condescension. Zach stepped up, furious, swinging his arm to slap my hand away. Big mistake. I caught his wrist in a vice grip, twisted it viciously, and used his own momentum to execute a textbook over-the-shoulder throw. "BAM!" He slammed onto the floor with a bone-jarring crash. Chloe’s eyes bulged in horror. Even Zach, groaning on the ground, stared up at me in stunned disbelief. I dusted off my hands, pushed open the trailer door, and stepped out. The system’s piercing voice shrieked in my ears, making my temples throb with irritation. [Host! How could you violate the core plot?! You’re supposed to swallow your tears! You have to suffer ultimate humiliation before you can go home!] "Go home? Are you kidding?" I sneered internally. "The original girl is an heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was supposed to live in luxury with zero worries. If these parasites don't know their place, I'll just strip their assets and take out the trash. Problem solved." [Host, your persona is the tragic true daughter whose death teaches her family remorse, not a ruthless criminal mastermind!] I ignored the annoying voice in my head and stepped down from the trailer. The hushed murmurs outside vanished instantly. The set fell dead silent. I knew the deal: Chloe had been throwing her weight around the film set for months just because Zach was backing her. Talentless, obnoxious, but untouchable. Everyone hated her guts, but nobody had the balls to say a word. Watching me rip them both apart had everyone looking at me with pure, unadulterated awe. Leaving the set, I strolled into a nearby café, pulled up my phone, and checked the latest PR feeds. Because I hadn’t stepped up to take the blame, the news of Chloe slipping into a luxury hotel with a mystery man was still clinging stubbornly to the number one trending spot on Twitter. The original Sasha had spent years meticulously crafting Chloe’s public persona as the sweet, innocent "nation’s sweetheart." If that tower crumbled overnight, with the purest girl in showbiz revealed as a dirty little cheat, it would be the scandal of the century. I sipped my iced coffee, my eyes narrowing. Oh, so you want to drag someone down to take the hit? Let me help you bury yourselves instead. While I was scrolling through the comments, the firestorm suddenly shifted directions. Chloe’s rabid fan base had moved on from flaming my personal accounts—they were now spamming the agency’s official page, demanding that Chloe’s "innocence" be cleared. I scoffed. If she were really clean, why wouldn’t she just show her face and prove it? What I didn't expect, though, was just how utterly shameless she and Zach actually were. Within minutes, an ultra-high-definition, heavily photoshopped image blasted straight to the top of the trending topics, completely eclipsing Chloe’s scandal.The media shifted all their firepower onto me, and nasty rumors started spreading like wildfire. I zoomed in on the picture and let out a cold laugh. To scrub Chloe’s name clean, they actually had their tech department fake a lewd picture of me. They were completely fine with destroying their own daughter’s reputation in broad daylight. The original girl really was cursed with a family from hell. I studied the picture carefully. The "me" in the frame was sprawled across a bed, cheeks flushed red, one shoulder bare under dim, sensual hotel lighting. It left nothing to the imagination—a textbook leak from a one-night stand. With the internet already on edge, this single picture pushed me right to the center of a public execution. My phone began buzzing relentlessly. Creepy texts and gross DMs from sleazy directors and producers flooded my screen, filled with vile, suggestive propositions. Disgusted, I screenshotted every single one of them. Then, I texted Maya, the original girl’s loyal assistant—the only person in this entire circus who actually cared about her, and the only reason the original Sasha had survived the family's endless abuse for so long. Maya caught on immediately. She went right to work, compiling the names, numbers, and messages into an organized hit list. I ignored the filth piling up on my screen. With the scandal exploding, the agency finally reached out to handle crisis PR—not to protect me, of course, but only because they panicked when Chloe was caught at that hotel. Now that they had me as their convenient scapegoat, nobody gave a damn whether I lived or died. Just as I logged into an alt account, ready to go to war in the comment sections, a text from Chloe popped up on my phone. [Sasha, I feel so awful about what happened earlier. I really want to apologize. Please come to this address, dinner is on me.] Classic Chloe. Whenever she apologized, it was pure manipulation, completely hollow. In the past, taking the original Sasha out for a cheap meal was all it took for the poor girl to run back, forgiving her completely. The original had sacrificed everything to pave the way for this ungrateful family, only to end up branded as a dirty, promiscuous pariah, despised by the entire world. I swiped through the address she sent, smirking. An invitation to a trap? Don't mind if I do. The moment I arrived at the secluded location, I caught a shadow moving behind me in the corner of my eye. As a trained fighter, my senses were razor-sharp. I deliberately slowed my pace, strolling directly into the blind spot of a nearby security camera. Right on cue, a cloth drenched in chloroform clamped down over my mouth and nose. Feigning a weak struggle, I allowed myself to go limp and let them drag me into the back of an idling van. To move on me this fast, they had to be desperate to bury the online outrage. The van rattled down the road for what felt like twenty minutes. My eyes were blindfolded, and rough hands hauled me out, dragging me up an elevator before tossing me onto a plush, soft mattress. A luxury hotel suite. To scrub Chloe’s dirty laundry clean, Zach really went all out. He didn’t hesitate to drug and kidnap me—his lawful fiancée—just to ruin my virtue on camera and divert the public's eyes. Heavy, ragged breathing echoed beside my ear. A heavy body lunged forward, pinning my wrists to the bed. My eyes snapped open behind the blindfold. With a lethal snap of my wrists, I broke his grip, wrapped my fingers around his throat, and slammed him down beneath me with vicious precision. I ripped off the blindfold to reveal a bleached-blonde street thug. His skin was burning hot, his breathing ragged and erratic. He was clearly pumped full of heavy narcotics. My eyes landed on an empty glass vial on the carpet. Vile trash. The thug clearly didn't expect a scrawny girl to have the grip strength of an Olympic wrestler. He lashed out, kicking wildly toward my ribs. I dodged effortlessly, grabbed the discarded dress shirt off the floor, and tied his hands securely behind his back in seconds. Then, I snatched up the leftover pills scattered near the nightstand and shoved them straight down his throat. Picking up my phone from the floor, I heard Chloe’s sweet, calculated voice note play through the speaker. "Sasha? I'm at the restaurant, where are you? Are you still mad at me?" "Sasha, even if you're upset with me, you shouldn't have run off to a hotel with some random guy! The whole internet is talking about it! Don't you know you were photographed?"Scrolling through the message history, I couldn't help but marvel at her talent. A born actress. Every word sounded so heartbroken and concerned. Anyone reading it would assume I was some pathetic, loose tramp who couldn't keep her pants on. I sneered. You want to drag my name through the mud? Fine. Let’s see how you like going down with me. I unlocked my phone, squeezed my throat to fake a breathless, panicked gasp, and hit record: "Chloe... help me... hurry, room 1015..." After sending the voice note, I checked Twitter. Sure enough, during the thirty minutes I had been "missing," gossip blogs and paid bots had whipped the scandal into a full-blown feeding frenzy. I knew this was the climax Chloe had been dreaming of. But she was greedy and impatient; she’d definitely split up with Zach to orchestrate the drama. And Zach... He had looked down on me from day one. In his eyes, even though I was the biological daughter of the Miller family, having grown up in the slums meant I had neither the elegance nor the sophistication of his precious Chloe. My biological parents thought the exact same way—a whole family of snobs blinded by their own arrogance. That was why Zach had spent months trying every dirty trick in the book to break our arranged engagement. And this was the exact moment I had been waiting for. Only by blowing this entire mess wide open today could I permanently rid myself of these toxic freaks. Once Zach and Chloe were wiped out, I could take back every penny of the empire that belonged to me. The Miller family was sitting on billions. Why the hell would the original Sasha choose to slit her wrists just to beg for a drop of their guilty conscience? Absolute madness. The system tried to chime in with another protest, but I shut it down with a mental kick, leaving it completely mute. With my bait sent, I pulled up the live security tracker. Soon enough, a little black dot began moving on the screen, steadily making its way into the hotel lobby. Meanwhile, a horde of paparazzi had already swarmed the entrance downstairs. Some were tipped off by Chloe to catch me in the act, while others were summoned by my own anonymous leak. Right now, the hotel staff was keeping them at bay in the lobby. Watching the tracker get closer, I slipped into the shadows of the hallway corridor. The second Chloe turned the corner toward room 1015, I stepped out and chopped the back of her neck. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed into my arms. I caught her and dragged her limp body straight into the suite. I picked up Chloe’s phone, unlocked it, and narrowed my eyes at the texts Zach had just sent. [Babe, did you lure her to the room? My guys said the deed is underway. Once it's done, we unleash the press and lock in Sasha's reputation as a cheap whore.] [Once your parents kick her out of the family for good, every single cent of the Miller fortune is yours!] Reading the screen, I raised an eyebrow. I honestly hadn't realized how much these two vile snakes hated the original girl. They were ready to utterly destroy her life, knowing damn well she had fragile mental health. They were literally trying to drive her to suicide. I let out a slow, icy breath, the corners of my mouth curling into a wicked grin. No worries. The ones who won't survive this are you! I hauled Chloe over and tossed her onto the bed beside the drugged-up street thug. With him burning up from the pills, things were about to get very lively. My phone buzzed with an alert—the security footage from the hallway had just been successfully scrubbed and blurred by Maya. I gave her message a thumbs-up. Then, I casually picked up Chloe’s phone, channeled her sickeningly sweet, whiny tone, and fired off a text to Zach: [Babe, I'm already in the room. You have to come up to 1015 and see this bitch's pathetic face. She looks so disgusting.] Zach's reply popped up almost instantly: [My sweet baby, why would I want to look at that trash when I can look at you?] The sheer grease in his words made my stomach churn. I fired off a cutesy emoji to keep him hooked. Once that was handled, I pocketed the evidence, took the remaining pills from the bottle, and shoved a few down Chloe's throat for good measure. Satisfied, I strolled over to the armchair by the window and sat down. This boutique hotel happened to be a private asset the Miller family’s late patriarch had secretly transferred to the original Sasha’s name out of sheer pity. Grandpa knew how weak and spineless the girl was. He knew that if he handed it to her openly, the rest of the greedy family would bully her into signing it over to Chloe. So he kept it off the public books. I had only discovered this hidden gem thanks to the system’s data log, which made me feel right at home running the show here.