"Sisi, just have dinner with Director Dong, and he'll make me the male lead in 'Clouds of You.' You love me so much, you'll help me, right?"
"Sisi, just one evening, and I'll land the lead role. Once the contract's signed, I'll take you to the beach. Didn’t you say you wanted Boston lobster? We’ll eat as much as you want!"
*Shut up...*
"Come on, Miss Tang, have another drink... So obedient, tsk tsk, such smooth skin... Drunk already? Let me help you to your room."
"Don’t rush. I’ll take a shower and call a few friends. You’ll have the time of your life!"
*Shut up!*
What male lead?
What *Clouds of You*?
What drunk?
What "time of your life"?
Sarah Taylor’s head throbbed as if split open, her body weak like after a high fever.
Her mind ached, a relentless buzzing in her skull... She rubbed her eyes, the dim glow of an amber glass lamp coming into focus. The sound of running water echoed nearby.
Instinctively, she checked herself—a pair of interlocking rings hung from her neck, two buttons of her blouse undone. She quickly fastened them.
Wait—no.
Sarah spotted a pile of men’s clothes on the floor and a work ID on the nightstand—**Director: Mark Holden.**
"Mark Holden?"
She grabbed the work ID, her mind suddenly struck as if by lightning!
Those lines that had popped into her head earlier, along with this director, Mark Holden—weren’t they straight out of the recent entertainment industry novel *Queen of the Scene* she’d been reading?
*Queen of the Scene* told the story of a kind-hearted heroine working hard in the film industry who accidentally saved a tragic female side character betrayed by her boyfriend and handed over to a director. Little did she know, this pitiful side character was actually the long-lost heiress of a powerful conglomerate. Thus, the mighty family and the once-suffering girl began repaying the heroine’s kindness.
The tragic side character was written as an overly saintly figure—violated early on, driven to madness, only to be miraculously cured whenever the heroine needed help. Later, to highlight the heroine’s bravery and as part of her "repayment," the author had the side character kidnapped and murdered by her ex-boyfriend and the very director who had assaulted her…
Sarah Taylor, staring at the character who shared her name, had vented in the book’s comment section: *If she’s the heiress of such an influential family, with eight overprotective brothers and a three-time award-winning actor next-door as her childhood friend, how did none of them manage to save her in time?*
*If they’re just going to be useless props, why even write them in? What was the author thinking?*
Wait a minute—that line, *"Sisi, just have dinner with Director Dong,"* was what the scumbag Michael Thornton had said to the tragic Sarah Taylor before she was violated by Mark Holden and his men, marking the beginning of her torment…
And the paired-ring necklace around her neck—the only keepsake her mother had left her—was the key item that would later help her reclaim her identity as a Nie family heir!
"I’m Sarah Taylor?!"
The realization hit her like a truck—she had transmigrated into the book as the tragic side character!
Her, an utterly ordinary stage actress who thought she’d spend her life quietly touring with theater troupes, had somehow woken up as this doomed paper-thin character!
Before she could process it further, Sarah heard the bathroom door handle twist.
Her head snapped toward the sound in panic. In her haste, she tumbled off the bed, landing hard on her backside. The sharp pain cleared her mind instantly.
As she looked up, her eyes locked onto the ashtray on the nightstand. She snatched it up and quickly hid behind the wardrobe.
A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a beer belly—the epitome of greasy middle-aged mediocrity—stepped out of the bathroom, a towel barely wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, yeah, this one seems like a real catch. Let the guys have some fun with her. Who cares? Just don’t kill her."
Sarah Taylor felt fury surge through her veins. No wonder the original owner of this body had gone mad—what came next was even more horrifying.
Her fingers tightened around the glass ashtray in her hand. Soon, she’d smash it into his skull and leave him paralyzed.
Mark Holden hung up the phone and strode into the bedroom, only to find the woman missing from the bed. His beady eyes darted around the room. "Miss Tang? Miss Tang?"
Sarah watched as the pig of a man wobbled, his flabby flesh jiggling with every step. It took every ounce of willpower not to vomit. Locking onto the bald spot at the back of his head, she swung the ashtray down with brutal precision.
A dull thud. Mark’s eyes rolled back as his body crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Sarah exhaled sharply, nudging him with her foot. When he didn’t stir, she tossed the ashtray aside—only to notice a dark pool of blood spreading beneath him.
"Dead?" Her heart lurched.
But then she thought, better him than her. If she hadn’t snapped, he would’ve destroyed her. And according to the story’s setup, that powerful conglomerate was already hunting for their long-lost heiress—her. They’d find her soon enough. If she killed this sleazy director, she’d just let those eight overbearing brothers of hers handle the fallout.
Right now, escape was the priority.
Because Mark had already called for backup.
Sarah twisted the doorknob and flung it open—only to freeze at the sight of the man standing there.
Michael Thornton. The original owner’s so-called boyfriend. The bastard who’d sold her out to Mark Holden’s bed, driven her to madness, and ultimately led to her death.
"Si-Si? Wh—what are you doing here? You’re not drunk?" Michael’s eyes flickered with shock. That didn’t make sense—he’d drugged her drink himself. She should’ve been unconscious by now.
His plan had been simple: wait outside until Mark was done, then corner him and demand the lead role in his next film. But instead of Mark, Sarah had walked out.
Michael Thornton tried to peek into the suite, but before he could react, Sarah Taylor slapped him hard across the face with a resounding *smack* and slammed the door shut!
The blow left Michael utterly stunned. In his memory, Sarah had always been meek and obedient—just a few sweet words would make her do anything for him. But now, she actually dared to hit him?
Clutching his stinging cheek, he sputtered, "You—"
"We're done!" Sarah seethed, her blood boiling with rage. She wanted nothing more than to strangle this scumbag, but her body was burning up, and she desperately needed a cold shower. Without another word, she turned and bolted toward the hotel exit.
"You can't leave!" Michael snapped out of his daze and lunged after her, grabbing her wrist. "Sarah! We had a deal—just one night with Director Dong, for our future—"
"For your *mother's* future!" Sarah snarled, wrenching her arm free. "You have the nerve to say 'our future' after pimping me out? If you're so eager to sell yourself, go ahead! But keep me out of your disgusting schemes!"
With that, she launched into a full-on assault—yanking his hair, clawing at his face, even going for his throat—all while screaming at the top of her lungs, "Help! Someone call security! This man's assaulting me!"
Michael stood frozen in shock. In the five years they'd been together, Sarah had always been sweet and soft-spoken, never raising her voice. Now, she was cursing him like a madwoman.
"Have you lost your mind? I'm doing this for *us*, for your career! You agreed to—"
"Last warning—*let go!*" Sarah gritted her teeth, itching to kick this bastard into next week. She swiped at his face again, nails aimed for his eyes.
Panicked and desperate, Michael ignored the stinging scratches and tightened his grip, dragging her toward Mark Holden's suite. His voice turned vicious, his mask of charm slipping. "Listen here—you *will* cooperate. Or I swear, you'll regret it!"
"Regret *this*!" Sarah shrieked, grabbing his messy hair and yanking hard before driving her knee straight into his groin.
"AAARGH—!" His howl of agony echoed down the hallway just as the door of the opposite SVIP suite clicked open.
The man stepping out hadn't yet put on his mask, leaving his devastatingly handsome face fully exposed—and now frozen in stunned disbelief as he took in the chaotic scene before him.