On Black Friday, a package arrived from my husband, Adrian. Inside was a risqué set of lingerie. At the exact same moment, lines of text began to shimmer into view before my eyes, like comments on a livestream. [Here we go! The classic "mistaken gift" plot point! Next, the original wife is gonna throw a fit, the male lead will be disgusted, and the gentle secretary will swoop in to save the day, leveling up their relationship!] [This cannon fodder wife is so dumb and vicious. She deserves to be divorced!] [Get to the divorce already! I can't wait to see the main couple get together!] I looked down at the box in my hands, then immediately listed it on eBay. For the title, I wrote: "Brand new, gift from husband, wrong size. For the one it's meant for." A second later, the comments exploded. [WTF??? This chick isn't following the script!] … My name is Sophie Sterling. For three years, I've been what everyone sees as a stay-at-home wife. But as of today, I have a new identity: the villainous, disposable first wife in a trashy billionaire romance novel. And these transparent comments scrolling past my eyes? They’re the "reader reviews" from another world. I calmly snapped a photo of the size S black lace lingerie. I even adjusted the lighting. No filter needed; it was genuine silk, and the quality spoke for itself. On the eBay listing, I typed in the price: $9.99. Selling a five-figure piece of designer lingerie for less than ten bucks was a special kind of insult, delivered with a shrug. [Holy crap! $9.99! Is she insane? That's a limited edition piece from Serafina!] [What do you know? This is a power move! No, wait, this is a psycho move! Shouldn't a normal woman be storming his office with this and slapping the other woman in the face?] [This character’s thought process is a total enigma. Confirmed.] Ping. My phone chimed. The item had been sold instantly. I glanced at the decisive buyer's profile, feeling a flicker of amusement, and tapped "confirm shipment." The click of the electronic lock sounded from the foyer. Adrian was home. He was the picture of corporate power in a tailored charcoal suit, his tall frame and chiseled features radiating a cool detachment. My husband of three years, and the male lead of this novel. The comments erupted with excitement. [The male lead is home! He's home! The showdown is about to begin!] [Fight! Fight! I live for this drama!] Adrian shrugged off his suit jacket, handing it to a passing housekeeper. His gaze fell on me, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "You got the package?" he asked, his tone as flat as if he were commenting on the weather. "I did," I nodded. His eyes scanned the empty coffee table, and a flicker of something—nervousness?—crossed his face. [He's nervous! He's looking for the lingerie! He's scared!] [Throw it in his face, Sophie! Do something!] The comments were more frantic than I was. I lifted the glass of lukewarm water from the table and took a slow sip. "Oh, you mean the lingerie? The size was wrong. I sold it." Adrian’s expression froze. He had probably imagined I would cry, scream, or hurl hysterical accusations at him. The one thing he clearly hadn't anticipated was that I would simply sell it. "You sold it?" His voice dropped ten degrees. [He's pissed! He's finally pissed! Now we're getting to the good part!] [I told you this Sophie was an idiot. Now she's really done it. Get ready to be kicked to the curb.] I met his icy gaze with a look of pure innocence. "Yes. It seemed like a waste to just let it sit there. Why? Was there… some special meaning behind it?" Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin, hard line. His eyes were dark pools as he stared at me. After a long moment, he bit out the words, "Don't start any trouble." With that, he turned and went straight up to his second-floor study, skipping dinner entirely. I watched him go, the smile on my face widening. Trouble? No. I was just starting to live. The next day, while I was tinkering in my small home studio, my phone rang. It was Adrian’s secretary, Luna White. The female lead of the book. [Here comes the angelic heroine! Ugh, listen to that syrupy, fake voice.] [Don't talk trash about Luna! She's a sweet, kind angel!] On the other end of the line, Luna’s voice was exactly as described—soft and cloying, laced with the perfect amount of concern. "Mrs. Spall, hello, this is Luna. Mr. Spall has an upset stomach today and barely touched his breakfast. Did… did you two have an argument?" I put the phone on speaker, continuing to adjust my livestreaming equipment as I replied nonchalantly, "No, not at all. Just a little tiff between husband and wife. Nothing that lasts the night." Luna seemed to choke for a second, then her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's good… Mrs. Spall, please don't misunderstand. Mr. Spall didn't mean it. That gift yesterday, actually… I was the one who asked him to order it for me. I must have entered the wrong address by mistake. I'm so sorry for all the trouble." [Wow! Our Luna is so kind! She's even helping the male lead cover his tracks!] [If this Sophie has any sense, she'll take the olive branch. Too bad she's a moron.] "Oh? Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "So you were the one who bought it, Ms. White." "Yes, yes, that's right," Luna said quickly. I let out a soft laugh, my tone suddenly becoming much warmer. "Oh, that's such a shame! I saw it was the wrong size and listed it on eBay yesterday. If I'd known it was yours, I would have just sent it over to you directly." A strange, strained silence fell on the other end of the line. I could almost picture the constipated look on her pure, innocent face. [Pfft! She sold it! Hahahaha, watch the perfect heroine squirm!] [Nice one, Sophie! She might be an idiot, but that was an accidental bullseye!] After a long pause, Luna finally found her voice. "It's… it's fine," she said stiffly. "Please don't worry about it." "How could I not?" I insisted, my enthusiasm unwavering. "Tell you what, send me the link. I'll buy you a new one, as a little apology gift from me to you. Oh, and make sure you pick the right size this time! Size S. I've made a note of it." I put a special emphasis on "Size S" and the overly familiar tone. This time, Luna couldn't even pretend. "That's not necessary, Mr. Spall is calling for me," she said hastily, and hung up. I set my phone down and smiled at the perfectly adjusted camera. The game had just begun. I opened the streaming app and registered a new account with the ID "Sophie's Hidden Gems." No promotion, no announcement. I just started my first-ever livestream. [What's this idiot up to now? Livestreaming? What's she gonna stream, herself crying?] [Probably trying to get sympathy so the internet will trash the male lead. Then she'll beg him to take her back. I know the playbook.] The stream was dead. A few random viewers algorithmically pushed my way, and the unsupportive comments scrolling before my eyes. I ignored them and smiled professionally at the camera. "Hi everyone, I'm Sophie. For my first stream today, I'm offering a special welcome deal." I held up the item next to me, a beautifully packaged gift box. "This is a hidden gem I found recently—an aromatherapy diffuser. The scent is Snowy Pine, perfect for the bedroom in winter. It's great for helping you sleep." [Lame. Who's gonna buy a stupid diffuser?] [Who does she think she is? Some top-tier influencer?] Ignoring the mockery, I continued my pitch. "This diffuser uses all-natural essential oils, so the ingredients are completely safe. But more importantly, the story behind the brand is really touching…" I spent ten minutes telling the story of the brand's founder. The viewer count crept from single to double digits. "For today's debut special, this diffuser, which normally retails for $299, is available in my stream for $99 with free shipping. I only have one hundred in stock. I'm making the link live… now." As I finished speaking, the shopping cart icon at the bottom of the screen lit up. The comments continued to jeer. [$99? Is she desperate for cash?] [I'll bet you a bag of chips she doesn't sell a single one.] The next second, a system notification flashed across the screen: [This item is sold out.] The comments froze. [???] [One hundred units? Gone instantly? Is this stream haunted?] Seeing the cleared inventory, I couldn't suppress a smile. Of course, these weren't real customers. They were shills I'd hired in adSpall. Business is war, and for the first battle, you have to project overwhelming force. [Fake! It's gotta be fake! I knew a housewife couldn't pull this off!] [Yep! This is all a ploy to trick the male lead into thinking she's some kind of big shot. So pathetic!] The comments convicted me of being a vain, fraudulent loser. I ended the stream and stretched. My phone buzzed. It was Adrian’s mother, my mother-in-law, Eleanor Spall. I answered, but before I could speak, her shrill, venomous voice shot through the phone. "Sophie! What new drama are you stirring up now! I'm telling you, you've dragged the Spall family name through the mud!" [Ooh, the evil mother-in-law has arrived! Sophie is so dead!] [Tear her apart, Eleanor! This woman needs to be taught a lesson!] I held the phone away from my ear and pretended to clean it. "Mom, what was that? The signal's bad, I can't hear you." "Don't you play dumb with me!" Eleanor's voice got even louder. "Luna told me everything! Not only did you pick a fight with Adrian, but you sold that poor girl's belongings! How can you be so malicious!" "Oh," I said flatly. "So you're calling to condemn me?" My calm tone seemed to stun her. She sputtered, "Sophie! Don't you forget your place! Who do you think gave you the life you have today? Without Adrian, you're nothing! I'm warning you, apologize to Luna this instant, then go beg Adrian for forgiveness. If you don't, you can get out of this family!" Listening to her hysterical shrieking, my gaze turned to ice. For three years, for Adrian, for this family, I gave up my career and my friends. I traded my ambitions for an apron. I thought I could earn their respect, their love. But in the end, to him and his family, I was nothing more than a possession they could scold and discard at will. [Cry! Beg for forgiveness! Don't you love the male lead?] [Why isn't she saying anything? Did the yelling break her brain?] I took a deep breath. When I spoke again, my voice was perfectly calm. "You're right, Mom." Eleanor was stunned into silence, likely shocked by my sudden obedience. [She caved already? How boring.] "I shouldn't have sold Ms. White's things," I continued. "And I certainly shouldn't have made Adrian angry. Don't worry, I'll take care of it." Without waiting for her to respond, I hung up. Then, I blocked her number. Take care of it? Of course. Just not in the way they expected. I opened my laptop, logged into a long-dormant email account, and sent a message to my assistant. "Set up a meeting with Leo Hayes at Starlight Entertainment. Tell him I have a business proposal." With that done, I checked my streaming dashboard. First stream: peak viewership 128, total sales $9,900. Not a spectacular number, but just enough to get the platform's attention. Sure enough, a call came through from someone claiming to be a platform manager, asking if I was interested in a contract and offering to boost my traffic. I politely declined. I wasn't interested in traffic someone else gave me. I was interested in creating it. For the next few days, I streamed for two hours every day like clockwork. I sold a random assortment of items, from cheap snacks to mid-range skincare. And without fail, every single item sold out the instant it was listed. My stream became something of a legend on the platform. A streamer with fewer than a thousand followers was pulling in sales numbers that rivaled the top channels. [These numbers are so obviously fake. Why isn't the platform doing anything?] [I've already reported her. Streamers who fake their data should be banned!] [What is she even trying to accomplish? What's the point of this fake success?] The comments were completely baffled. Adrian finally noticed my "little hobby." He came home for dinner for the first time in ages. At the table, he tossed his phone in front of me. The screen showed my stream's homepage. "Sophie, do you think this is funny?" His face was dark, his eyes filled with scorn. "A housewife playing influencer? If you're not embarrassed, I am." I slowly swallowed my food and dabbed my lips with a napkin. "It's my prerogative." "Your prerogative?" Adrian sneered. "To fake orders, scam people, and make a fool of yourself online? Sophie, this is your last warning. Shut down the stream. I don't want to see this pathetic garbage ever again." His tone was dripping with condescension, as if my efforts were nothing more than a childish tantrum. [The male lead is finally laying down the law! So commanding!] [Just apologize, Sophie. Don't push him any further.] I set down my fork and looked up at him. "And if I don't?" Adrian's gaze turned glacial. "Then you'll find out." The next day, as I was preparing to go live, I discovered that the bank account linked to my streaming platform had been frozen. Not only that, the credit limit on all of my personal cards had been reduced to zero. This was Adrian's move. He thought that by cutting off my money, he could clip my wings and force me back into his cage. [Hahaha, nice one! He should have done this ages ago!] [Let's see her fake her sales now! No money, no power! Checkmate!] The comments were gloating. But watching the mockery scroll by, I didn't feel a single spark of anger. Because this was the moment I had been waiting for. I opened Twitter and, using my long-standing personal account, "Sophie Sterling," I posted for the first time in years. "Cash flow issues. Tonight at 8 PM, I'm going live to talk about my 'soon-to-be-ex-husband'." Attached were two images: a photo of our marriage certificate, and a screenshot of my frozen bank account. The post was a bombshell. Adrian Spall was the golden boy of the city's business world—young, brilliant, handsome, and the subject of countless magazine covers. But me, "Mrs. Spall," had always been carefully shielded from the public eye. My Twitter account was instantly swarmed. #AdrianSpallMarried #WhoIsMrsSpall #AdrianSpallFreezesWifesAssets The three hashtags shot to the top of the trending list, a bright red "VIRAL" icon blazing next to them. Adrian’s call came at the exact moment the story blew up. His voice was tight with barely suppressed fury. "Sophie! Are you insane? Delete that tweet right now!" I laughed softly, my tone lazy. "Mr. Spall, it's a little late for that now, don't you think?" I could hear his ragged breathing on the other end, mixed with Luna's anxious murmuring: "Mr. Spall, please don't be angry, I'm sure she didn't mean to…" "Sophie," Adrian’s voice came again, a tremor in it he couldn't hide. "What do you want?" What did I want? I looked at the rapidly climbing number of RSVPs for my upcoming stream and smiled. I watched the "reader" comments fly by in a panic. [She's crazy! This woman is completely nuts! This is mutual destruction!] [Why am I… kind of excited for this?] I spoke clearly into my phone. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Mr. Spall. 8 PM. My stream. Let's settle our accounts in front of the entire country."
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