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Playing The Toxic Wife To Attract Billionaires

Playing The Toxic Wife To Attract Billionaires

June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife. Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining. To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live. She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson. When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds. Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family. The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted. He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed. "Stop crying. I'll handle it." Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life. To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.
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Chapter 2

June pushed herself off the carpet. She walked over to the massive vanity and started tearing through the drawers. She shoved velvet boxes of diamonds and pearls aside. The expensive jewelry crashed against the wood with harsh, metallic clatters. At the very bottom of the last drawer, she found it. A blank Divorce Agreement drafted by Isaac's lawyers months ago. A thin layer of dust coated the crisp white paper. June read the bold print. The clauses were brutal. She would walk away with absolutely nothing. She slammed the heavy stack of papers onto the vanity top. She tried to speak to the system in her mind, begging for a different task. The red countdown timer simply flashed in her vision, a silent, deadly refusal. June picked up the Montblanc pen. The heavy metal felt cold against her skin. Her wrist shook slightly as she hovered the gold nib over the signature line. She remembered Isaac from the original host's memories. The man was a ruthless predator in the tech world. Swallowing hard, she forced her hand to steady and slashed her signature across the bottom of the page. She grabbed the papers and marched into the walk-in closet. She bypassed the soft pastels and pulled a skin-tight, blood-red dress off the hanger. It was aggressive. It was armor. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she dragged a matching red lipstick across her mouth. She was preparing for war. June pushed the bedroom door open. She stepped into her five-inch Christian Louboutins and walked toward the grand staircase, her heels clicking against the floor like a ticking clock. The maids in the hallway pressed themselves against the walls, lowering their heads and holding their breath as she passed. June reached the heavy oak doors of the first-floor study. She stopped. She took a deep breath, trying to slow the frantic hammering against her ribs. She didn't knock. She grabbed the cold brass handle and shoved the heavy door open. The hinges let out a low groan. The study was dim. Isaac sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his long fingers typing rapidly across a keyboard, illuminated only by the glow of his monitor. At the sound of the door, his hands stopped. He slowly lifted his head. His eyes were the color of Siberian ice, and they locked onto her with a physical weight. June felt the impact of his stare in the back of her knees. Her calves cramped. She almost stumbled. "Maintain arrogance!" the system shrieked in her head. June forced her spine straight. She tilted her chin up. She walked across the room, the sharp clack of her heels echoing off the wood paneling. She reached the desk and slammed the papers down. The sharp smack broke the heavy silence. Isaac's gaze dropped from her face to the document. He read the words Divorce Agreement. A microscopic crease formed between his brows. June leaned forward, planting both hands on the edge of his desk. She injected every ounce of disgust she could muster into her voice. "Sign it, Isaac. I'm sick of this hellhole." Isaac didn't look at the papers again. He leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his hands over his stomach. He looked at her the way a scientist observes a rat in a maze. The silence stretched. The pressure in the room grew so heavy June felt it pressing against her eardrums. She fought the overwhelming urge to look away, forcing herself to hold his icy stare. Isaac let out a low, dark chuckle. The sound vibrated through the quiet room, laced with pure danger. He stood up. His massive frame instantly blocked the light from the window, casting a long, dark shadow that swallowed June whole. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to step back. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, forcing her feet to stay planted. Isaac walked around the desk. He stopped less than a foot away from her, forcing her to crane her neck to maintain eye contact. He raised his hand. His long, cold fingers clamped around her jaw. He forced her head up. June gasped softly as her eyes met his. The temperature of his skin sent a violent shiver down her spine. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Isaac's voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "What game are you playing now, June? Do you want a higher allowance?" The sheer contempt in his eyes felt like a physical slap, overriding her fear with a hot spike of humiliation. A blaring alarm echoed in her mind: [System Warning: Maintain arrogant persona!] The cold command gave her the desperate push she needed. She smacked his hand away from her face. "I'm serious!" she yelled. Isaac stared at his empty hand. His eyes darkened to a terrifying shade of midnight blue. The air in the room stopped moving.

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