She Called Me a Killer—I Proved Her Right

In my previous life, one of my short videos blew up overnight, and I shot to fame as an influencer with millions of followers.

Meanwhile, Emma got fired from the preschool due to her habit of stealing. As an unemployed freeloader, she moved into the luxury apartment I had just bought, spending my money lavishly every single day.

Even though I was paying for everything, she couldn't even stay out of trouble. She constantly stole food deliveries from other residents in our complex.

One day, the pregnant neighbor next door caught her red-handed. But instead of apologizing, Emma started screaming obscenities at the woman.

"What are you yelling about? Haven't you ever had takeout in your life? I can't believe you're living in such an upscale complex when you look like that! You're probably sleeping around to pay rent!"

The seven-month pregnant woman got angry and fired back at her. "You're a thief, yet you still have the nerve to act tough? You truly have no manners!"

Emma had always been arrogant and couldn't stand being called rude. She immediately shoved the pregnant woman to the floor. She even had the audacity to mock her while claiming to be me.

"I'm Anna Anderson, an influencer with millions of followers! One livestream makes me more money than you'll see in a lifetime. A cheap slut like you could never afford my lifestyle. I’m doing you a favor by even touching anything that belongs to someone like you."

The pregnant woman started hemorrhaging badly. Emma was forced to follow the ambulance to the hospital. But the doctors couldn't save the pregnant woman, and both mother and baby died.

Emma just threw down a 50-dollar bill to humiliate the family before walking away.

"Still trying to rip me off? I mean, that woman might've been carrying a dead baby for all I know! Your family probably did so many terrible things! That's why you lost both of them!"

The next day, Emma heard that the pregnant woman's husband was coming after her with a kitchen knife. Feeling guilty, she hid away but deliberately tricked me by claiming she had lost her keys and needed me to come open the door.

I felt sorry for her being stuck outside in the freezing winter, so I immediately dropped my work and rushed over to help her.

Little did I know that the moment I reached our front door, the grief-stricken husband would slash my neck artery with a single strike, killing me on the spot.

Right after I died, my boyfriend, Noah Johnson, happened to arrive and found Emma trembling in the stairwell. He held her and comforted her instead.

After my death, everyone reviled me. They all said I deserved to die, while my parents chose to cover up my sister's crimes.

Emma even put on an act, coming forward to apologize on my behalf. She profited from my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became a couple blogging duo who made a fortune.

As I recalled the tragic death I suffered in my past life, I let out a sharp breath. I grabbed the "Out of Order" signs from a storage closet next to the elevators and blocked off both elevators.

Just as I finished, I saw the pregnant woman's furious family members approaching. They glanced at the elevators, then quickly headed for the stairwell. I put the signs back in their original place before slowly following them upstairs, my lips curling into a smile with every step I took.

When I reached the fifth-floor landing, I heard a piercing scream from above. I didn't need to guess. The victim's family had already discovered Emma hiding in the corner of the sixth-floor stairwell.

Listening to Emma's terrified cries filled me with dark satisfaction. Just like she had done in my past life, I hid behind the door to watch the show unfold.