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Whatever. I'm Here to Destroy the Company Novel Cover

Whatever. I'm Here to Destroy the Company

Three years after returning to her biological family, Abby is publicly humiliated when her parents transfer all company shares to a fake heiress and disown her. While onlookers offer pity, Abby is actually a gold-tier agent from the Quick Transmigration Bureau. She has no desire for their affection; her sole mission is the total destruction of their firm. With the assets now concentrated in the hands of an incompetent rival, her path to corporate ruin is finally clear.
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Chapter 2

After the banquet, the happy family of three waited for me in the back lounge.

The moment the door closed, Rita's elegant mask crumbled into pure contempt.

"Who are you making that sour face for? You've signed the papers. Move out of the villa tomorrow. Stop getting in Cathleen's way."

Cathleen lounged on the sofa, admiring her freshly done nails, and said with indifference, "Abby, don't take Mom's bluntness personally. I've already had your things packed. They're right by the back door, next to the trash bins."

I pulled out a chair, sat down like I owned the place, and dropped every trace of tears and weakness.

I crossed one leg over the other, pulled a mint from my bag, and popped it into my mouth. "Moving out is fine."

I raised my eyes and swept a cold gaze across the three of them. "Pay up."

The air froze for three seconds.

Gary slammed the table and shot to his feet. "What did you say? You have the nerve to ask for money? Three years we fed you, housed you, and now you dare demand payment from me?"

"Abby, have you lost your mind?" Rita shrieked. "Who do you think you are?"

"Calm down." I pulled out my phone and opened a memo. "First: in the three years I lived with you, I ate leftovers and slept in a storage closet. The so-called true heiress lived worse than a maid.

"Second, and more importantly—"

I turned my gaze to Cathleen, whose expression had already started to flicker.

"The Newark Group's core security system, plus the smart algorithm that launched last month—both have Cathleen's name on them. But everyone in this room knows who actually wrote that code."

Cathleen's face went pale. She whipped around to face her father. "Dad, she's lying! That work is mine!"

I let out a cold laugh. "Oh really? Then tell me, Cathleen, what algorithm does the system's third-layer encryption use?"

Cathleen opened her mouth. Stuttered. Not a single word came out.

Gary wasn't stupid. Seeing his daughter's guilty panic, his heart sank.

But he was in too deep. The shares had been transferred. The public announcement had been made. Admitting now that Cathleen was a fraud would be akin to slapping his own face.

"What do you want?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"That system is worth at least 100 million, at market value."

I held up one finger. "Consider this a discount for giving birth to this body. Ninety percent off.

"Ten million. That covers my technology buyout fee and three years of back child support. Pay it, and I vanish. I guarantee you'll never see my face again for the rest of your lives."

"In your dreams!" Rita shrieked. "Ten million? Why don't you just rob a bank?"

I stood up, smoothed my clothes, and turned toward the door.

"Don't pay, then. But the backdoor to that system is still in my hands. I'll give you twelve hours to think it over. Tomorrow at nine in the morning, if the money isn't in my account, I'll make the Newark Group's stock price fall even lower than your family's moral standards."

"Are you threatening me?" Gary shook with rage.

I looked back over my shoulder and gave him a brilliant smile.

"I've got nothing to lose. You've got everything to lose. Go ahead. Test me."

Then I walked out and slammed the door behind me.

I knew they'd pay.

For a money-grubber like Gary, ten million would sting. But compared to the company's survival and the family's reputation, he had no choice.

Sure enough, the next morning at 8:59, my phone buzzed.

[Your account ending in 6789 has received a deposit of 10,000,000.00 dollars.]

I stared at that long string of zeros and let out a low whistle.

"Thanks for the seed money."