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She Regrets After Stealing My Face Novel Cover

She Regrets After Stealing My Face

While working as a psychiatric caregiver, a woman discovers her sister-in-law used her face to portray a villain in an AI-generated production. Despite her protests, her husband and mother-in-law demand she sacrifice her privacy for the sake of family business and art. They mock her concerns as trivial, unaware that she is actually an undercover investigative journalist. Her face is not just an image; it is a vital tool for a dangerous mission they have now compromised.
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Chapter 1

I worked as a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital.

One day, during a quiet shift, I came across a post from my husband's widowed sister-in-law.

[Just launched my first AI-generated short drama! Hope you'll check it out and support me!]

I tapped on the video attached to the post.

The villain's face was identical to mine.

I immediately messaged her and demanded that she take the video down.

Instead, she posted our chat in the family group.

Then she added:

"If it really bothers you, I'll delete it. It's just a shame my first attempt at starting a business has already failed..."

My husband replied almost instantly:

"Don't delete it!"

Then he tagged me.

"So, what if you played a vicious villain? That's called making sacrifices for art."

"This is the first business your sister-in-law has ever started. Stop being so dramatic."

My mother-in-law chimed in as well:

"Your sister-in-law is trying to build something of her own. What's wrong with supporting her?"

"What do you mean she used your face without permission? We're family. Why make such a fuss over something so trivial?"

"She used all of our faces, and none of us complained. What, do you think your face is worth more than everyone else's?"

What they didn't know was that I was an undercover investigative journalist.

So yes, my face really was worth more than theirs.

The messages in the family group chat made my head buzz.

The psychiatric hospital where I was currently working might have been involved in human trafficking behind the scenes.

As an undercover investigative journalist, I understood better than anyone what would happen if my identity were exposed.

I immediately went to the restroom and called my husband, Sean Lowe.

As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice anxiously.

"Sean, I told you before we got married that the nature of my work required me to keep a low profile.

"While the video still doesn't have much traffic, get your sister-in-law to delete it right now."

Sean sounded extremely impatient.

"What kind of job needs to stay low-profile? Aren't you just a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital?

"My brother passed away, and Rachel only just managed to pull herself together. Do you really have to ruin things for her now?"

Before I could argue back, my mother-in-law, Shirley, grabbed the phone. Her voice was sharp and piercing.

"Are you jealous or something? Rachel can make money just by editing videos at home, while you're still spending your days cleaning up after psychiatric patients.

"You heartless woman. She's raising her son by herself. She finally started making a little money, and you're already jealous of her!"

Shirley's monthly pension and half of Sean's salary both went toward helping Rachel Ross with household expenses, and I always understood that.

I even reminded Sean countless times to look after her whenever he could. How could I possibly be jealous of Rachel?

I desperately wanted to tell them the truth, but my work was confidential. The only thing I could do was keep finding indirect ways to persuade them to delete the video.

"Mom, I didn't even have a wedding ceremony or wedding photos when I got married because a fortune teller said taking those kinds of pictures would bring misfortune to my family.

"It's not that I'm suddenly jealous of Rachel now. I stopped taking photos and videos a long time ago."

Shirley always believed in things like that.

She hesitated.

"Now that you mention it, you really haven't taken photos for years."

"Sophia Jones!"

Sophia Jones was the alias I used at the psychiatric hospital. The voice belonged to the head nurse calling for me.

I hurriedly reminded Shirley to delete the video, and she immediately agreed.

After hanging up, I returned to work.

When the day's work was finally over, I went home and lay on the bed scrolling through short videos.

The next second, I shot upright from the bed.

I came across the AI short drama video while scrolling.

As I watched the video's popularity surge, a cold sweat broke out across my back.

I rushed downstairs and knocked on Rachel's bedroom door.

"Rachel, hurry! Delete the video now! I can't show my face!"

Rachel looked troubled.

"Anna, please just let me earn this money."

As she spoke, tears filled her eyes.

"The video finally gained some traction. You know how hard it is for me to raise a child on my own. I'm begging you."

As she spoke, she started lowering herself to her knees.

Shirley and Sean rushed over after hearing the commotion.

Shirley quickly stepped forward and pulled Rachel back up before she could kneel.

Without asking any questions, Sean stormed over and slapped me across the face.

"Do you really have to make things difficult for her? Do you have any idea how hard it is for a woman to earn money on her own?

"Anyone who cuts off someone else's livelihood will get what's coming to them."

The slap landed hard.

My cheek instantly burned with pain.

I clutched my face and shouted in despair, "I told you before we got married that I didn't like showing my face! You promised you'd respect that.

"Besides, using my face in an AI video without my permission is a violation of my rights!"

Sean glared at me furiously.

"We're family. So, what if it's a violation? Are you really going to report your own family?

"What could possibly happen from showing your face for a few seconds? Rachel spent several sleepless nights making that video. There's no way she's deleting it."

I watched the likes continue climbing higher and higher.

My hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

According to my investigation, the seven abducted children and five trafficked women were still being held inside the psychiatric hospital.

If my cover was blown, the investigation would lose its only lead. What would be destroyed wouldn't just be my mission—it would be the hopes of countless families still waiting for their loved ones to come home.

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