His Mistresses? My Personal ATMs！

In my last life, I was the perfect trophy wife. I swallowed every insult, endured his affairs, and even nursed his “true love” through her pregnancy.

The day he finally clawed his way to the top, he served me divorce papers. The shock stopped my heart.

I woke up in the year he was still living in a basement, staring at my pathetic ex-husband.

I pulled my hand back from the stove, where his comfort food was simmering, and tossed him a five-year blueprint for the empire he had not yet built.

“Want out of this dump? Sign this. You work for me now.”

He stared, eyes lit with the raw hunger of a man who’d just seen real power.

Along the way, I took over his mistresses.

His dream girl Chloe needed cash? I funded her.

His ex Blair wanted fame? I launched her.

The starlet Harper had big dreams? I made them happen.

Three years later, my ex-husband knelt, begging me to take him back.

“Audrey, darling, I don’t need a title. I just want to be by your side.”

Before he could finish, Blair and Chloe-now an A-list actress and a top influencer-kicked him out together.

“Back off! Audrey’s ours tonight.”

1 Audrey POV

“Audrey, let’s get a divorce.”

“You’re amazing. You’re the perfect wife. But you’re too perfect, so perfect…it suffocates me.”

Liam handed me the papers, his face a pitiful mask of anguish.

As if he hadn’t used my family’s money to build his empire. As if I hadn’t spent years polishing his image and opening every door, only for him to bring his “true love” into our home while painting me as the wife who smothered him.

I couldn’t breathe. My chest seized, and I fell.

He had literally choked the life out of me.

In my last conscious thought, I wished. If there’s a next life, I am absolutely not going to be some perfect trophy wife!

“Audrey? What’s wrong?”

A familiar voice rang out.

I snapped my eyes open.

A flickering bare bulb buzzed overhead. Peeling wallpaper, plastered over with old newspapers, clung precariously to the walls. The air was a stale mix of cheap ramen seasoning and that unique, damp basement mildew.

Liam’s face, ten years younger, hovered inches from mine.

At this point, he hadn’t yet donned his million-dollar bespoke suits.

He wore a faded, threadbare T-shirt, a scruffy beard, and bloodshot eyes.

And I wasn’t dead yet.

I was back, ten years in the past.

Back to that summer when Liam had failed at his startup, been kicked out of his family’s home, and was forced to live with me in this grim basement apartment.

In my past life, he’d been this same half-dead mess, sitting on the edge of the bed, wallowing in self-pity.

“Audrey, am I a failure? Everyone looks down on me, only you…”

In my past life, I would have hugged him, my heart aching, then gone to our tiny kitchenette to make him a comforting bowl of cream of mushroom soup. I’d hold his hand and tell him, gently but firmly.

“You’re just having bad luck. I know you’ll succeed.”

For that promise, I sold the Cartier bracelet my mother left me, maxed out my credit cards, and choked down stale bread for three years, just to drag him out of the gutter.

And the result?

The first thing he did after succeeding was to dump me.

Now, just looking at him made me sick to my stomach.

“Audrey, I’m so hungry. Is there any food left?”

Liam sniffled, his eyes watery as he stared at me, waiting for me to act like his personal, all-purpose maid.

I looked at him and let out a cold laugh.

My love-drunk brain from the last life had been cured by a heart attack.

My tolerance for hardship was zero; my appetite, however, was strictly for money.

I sat up straight, not heading for the kitchen. Instead, I turned and pulled a calculator and a notebook from my canvas bag.

“Hungry?”

I tapped on the calculator.

“If you’re hungry, drink some cold water to fool your stomach. Because right now, you’re not just a failure, you’re a broke failure.”

Liam froze, his dejected expression instantly replaced by shock.

“Audrey, you… what did you say?”

“I said you’re poor.”

I slammed the notebook onto the rickety wooden table in front of him. “Liam, let’s talk numbers.”

“Last month, you wanted to give this basement ‘startup hub vibes,’ so you maxed out my credit card on a secondhand leather sofa. That’s three thousand eight hundred dollars.”

“The day before yesterday, you rented a suit for eight hundred dollars for that project that was doomed to fail anyway.”

“Add that to the last two years of rent, utilities, your cigarette money, your booze money, and all the money you lost from my investments instead of making any.”

I paused, and the calculator’s cold electronic voice chimed.

“Zero. Total. eighty-eight thousand four hundred and twenty dollars.”

I held out my hand, palm up, and looked at him.

“Care to settle up?”

The air was dead silent.

Liam’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

He opened his mouth, his face turning a furious crimson, and after a long moment, he managed to stammer, “Audrey… we’re husband and wife! Talking about money… isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“You actually remember we’re husband and wife?”

I scoffed, standing up to look down at this future billionaire.

“Liam, I haven’t left you yet because you haven’t paid back my money. And since you’re broke, you’ll have to pay with yourself.”

Liam instinctively clutched his chest, looking terrified.

“Pay… pay with myself?”

What beautiful fantasy is he cooking up?

I rolled my eyes, pulling out a ‘Labor for Debt Agreement’ from my bag-or, to put it simply, a contract selling him to me.

“Sign it.”

I shoved a pen into his hand.

“Starting today, I’m the capital, and you’re the labor. Every minute of your time, every idea, even you yourself, belong to me. Your salary will go towards your debt, and your dividends will be held by me.”

“If I tell you to go east, you don’t go west. If I tell you to make promises, you don’t make anything else.”

Liam held the pen, his hand shaking.

“Audrey, what’s gotten into you? You weren’t like this before. You said I was your world, that you’d always support my dreams…”

“That’s right, I support your dreams.”

I leaned down, close to his ear.

Looking at this stubborn rock of a man, who I couldn’t warm up no matter how hard I tried in my last life, I gave him the kind of sweetly condescending smile you’d reserve for a dim-witted child.

“So, for your dreams, you can handle a little hardship, right?”

“You need a killer instinct. Stop fixating on these petty struggles. If you can’t even sign these terms, how will you ever achieve greatness? How will you conquer the business world?”

This was his exact line, word-for-word, that he used to manipulate me in our previous life.

Now, I was serving it right back to him.

Liam was dumbfounded by my ‘boss-speak.’

“Fine! I’ll sign!”

He gritted his teeth, scrawled his name on the paper, then looked up, his eyes gleaming with the unmistakable awe of a man completely captivated by power.

“Audrey, I’ll do whatever you say! How do we turn this around?”

I looked at his signature on the paper, satisfied, and flicked the edge of the document.

Turn this around?

Last life, I used love to inspire you, and you treated me like a maid.

This life, I’m using money to train you, and you’re treating me like a savior.

“It’s simple.”

I collected the agreement and smiled.

“First, get dressed properly and shave that beard. Don’t sleep tonight. I’m going to outline your business plan for the next five years.”

Your “good” women are still waiting in the future for me to harvest.

Since I’m your boss this life,

Your backup plans are naturally my company’s assets.

2 Audrey POV

The night he signed the contract, I didn’t let Liam sleep.

I made him practice his “gaze” in front of the mirror for three whole hours.

That specific look. a blend of detached coolness, casual indifference, and the unspoken certainty of having the world at his fingertips.

In our past life, it was his trademark after he became successful.

This life, I made him master it ahead of time.

The next morning, Liam, sporting two massive dark circles under his eyes, eagerly extended his hand to me.

“Audrey, since we’re starting a big business, what about the initial capital? I returned that suit yesterday. I need some decent clothes to meet investors today, right? And a car, we can’t take the subway, can we?”

I was sipping a two-dollar carton of milk, and wiped my mouth.

“Clothes? A car?”

I rummaged in my bag and pulled out a chipped car key, slapping it onto the table.

“Your car’s been ready.”

Liam’s eyes lit up. He grabbed the key, then his face instantly crumpled.

“A Volkswagen? And… a vintage Jetta?”

That’s right, a Jetta.

It was the same car he’d pointed to in the company garage after he struck it rich in my last life, just to spite me. He’d sneered, “This car reminds me of you. Tough, reliable, a bit worn out but still usable. It’s yours.”

I’d driven that beat-up car on countless frigid nights, bringing him hangover remedies.

Now, it was back where it belonged.

“What? Not good enough?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not that I look down on it, it’s just…”

Liam’s face looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

“The paint is peeling, and you have to slam the door just to close it. I’m supposed to drive this to a multi-million-dollar project meeting? Security won’t even let me past the gate!”

“Shallow!”

I slammed my hand on the table, making Liam jump and nearly drop his half-eaten bagel.

It was time to unleash my masterclass in manipulation.

“Liam, your thinking is still stuck in the gutter!”

I said, “What do investors look for now? Fancy suits? Luxury cars? That screams ‘new money’! They want a story! A narrative! That ‘rising from the ashes with nothing but grit and vision’ kind of vulnerable authenticity!”

I walked up to him and straightened the slightly wrinkled collar of his old shirt. “Think about it, where did Steve Jobs start his company? In a garage.”

“If you roll up in a luxury car, they’ll think you’re some rich idiot who just burns money, and they’ll be on guard. But if you drive this beat-up Jetta, what does that signify?”

Liam blinked. “It signifies… I’m unconventional?”

“Wrong!”

I snapped my fingers.

“It signifies hard work! It means you’ve poured every single dollar into R&D and product development! It means you’re a pure entrepreneur, willing to sacrifice material comforts for your dream!”

“What’s this called? It’s a strategic psychological advantage. It’s building an impenetrable brand narrative. Get it?”

Liam’s jaw dropped, his eyes went wide as saucers.

Clearly, this advanced internet jargon was a massive shock to him.

He looked at the broken key in his hand, his eyes slowly shifting from disgust to reverence.

“Audrey… you’re right. I used to be so superficial, I didn’t truly grasp the essence of success.”

“Exactly.”

I stifled a laugh and pulled a PowerPoint presentation from my bag.

This PPT was actually the business plan he’d used to earn his first fortune in my previous life, one he’d bragged about in countless interviews after he succeeded. I already knew the content by heart and had even patched up a few logical loopholes.

“Take this, drive your car, and go meet Mr. Henderson at the downtown office tower.”

Liam took the PPT, flipped through a couple of pages, and his hands began to tremble.

“This… the underlying logic, the seamless business model, the way it addresses core pain points… Audrey, you came up with this?!”

“Less talk, more action.” I checked my watch.

“Remember, once you’re in there, say little. Use the jargon I’ve annotated on each page. ‘Empowerment,’ ‘synergy,’ ‘disruptive innovation’-hit them with everything you’ve got.”

“If you’re not embarrassed, they will be.”

Liam took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with determination.

He carefully tucked the broken car key into his pocket, like a warrior heading to battle.

“Audrey, don’t worry! If I don’t close this deal, I don’t deserve to eat your food!”

Watching him charge out of the basement with such gusto, a moment later, the decrepit Jetta roared to life outside, sounding less like a car and more like a dying tractor.

I finally couldn’t hold back my laughter.

You idiot.

Mr. Henderson was a known sentimentalist, a total sucker for a ‘rags-to-riches’ story.

In my last life, Liam had rented a luxury car to look impressive, only to be thrown out.

This life, that desperate, ‘scraped-from-the-bottom’ vibe combined with the clunker Jetta? It was guaranteed to hit Mr. Henderson right in his sweet spot.

With the grunt work sorted, it was time for my core assets.

I pulled out a brand-new notebook and opened to the first page.

Stuck there was a photo printed from an old college social media profile.

The girl in the picture wore a white dress, standing under a tree, her face streaked with tears, so pure it was almost heartbreaking.

Chloe.

Liam’s ‘true love,’ a future viral sensation.

In my past life, this was right around the time she came to him begging for money.

To play the hero, Liam gave her the money I needed for rent, forcing me to beg the landlord for a week.

This time…

I checked the time on my phone.

If the script was right, in half an hour, this ‘innocent little flower’ would arrive at this basement to put on her dramatic act.

I pulled a dusty ring light from under the bed and found a secondhand phone stand, propping it up on the rickety table.

“Come on, my little ATM.”

I adjusted the camera angle, a capitalist’s smile playing on my lips.

“Nowadays, tears shed into the ocean are just wastewater. But tears shed into a live stream… those are pure gold.”

3 Audrey POV

As expected, that beat-up Jetta worked wonders.

When Liam returned, the car’s sputtering noise sounded like a tractor plowing a field, audible three blocks away.

But he stepped out with an unexpectedly imposing stride.

“Audrey! It’s done! All of it!”

He burst into the basement, excitedly waving the letter of intent.

“Mr. Henderson said I have that… that ‘built-from-nothing’ kind of drive!”

I took the letter and glanced at it.

As expected, the first round of funding was secured.

“Not bad.”

I poured him a glass of cold water. “Looks like your ‘pity play’ marketing has real potential.”

“What ‘pity play’? This is about narrative!”

Liam chugged the water, instantly swelling with self-importance.

“Since we have money now, we need to register the company right away, recruit staff! I want a new office, and I need an administrative assistant, a secretary-preferably someone with great image and temperament.”

There it was.

A man’s inherent flaws, like a leopard never changing its spots.

The moment he had a warm meal, he started looking for trouble.

In my last life, this was the stage where he used “hiring” as an excuse to bring in a string of attractive women.

Back then, I’d argued with him countless times, and he’d always wear that innocent expression, saying, “It’s all for work, don’t be so unreasonable.”

This life, I looked at the predatory glint in his eyes and just found it amusing.

“Hire? Of course, we’ll hire.”

I pulled out my pre-prepared laptop and opened an Excel spreadsheet.

“Not just hire, we’ll hire the best.”

Liam paused, clearly surprised by my enthusiasm. “Really? You’re not mad?”

“Can anger make money?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Liam, we need to scale up and strengthen our business. Our thinking needs to evolve. Just being a tech company is too slow. What era are we in now? The age of traffic!”

“We’re building a content empire, creating an MCN. Every single employee is going to be a walking ATM!”

Liam looked utterly bewildered. “MCN? What’s that? I just wanted to hire a secretary…”

“Too small! Your vision is too small!”

I turned the laptop towards him, pointing at a list I’d already compiled on the screen.

This list was a mental download of “his lovers’ names” from my past life.

It detailed each woman’s name, special skills, and their current dire circumstances.

1. Chloe (Note. Future top influencer, current status. needs money for her mother, skilled at crying on cue)
2. Blair (Note. Future PR genius, current status. bar singer, skilled at witty insults)
3. Harper (Note. Future hit scriptwriter, current status. washed-up aspiring writer, skilled at fantastical narratives)

“Look.”

I pointed at the screen.

“Chloe, she looks like a tragic heroine. Perfect for building a ‘most pitiful sister on the internet’ persona, attracting a large female fanbase. Blair, her name means ‘fire,’ she’s perfect for a ‘fiery queen’ vibe, attracting female fans. Harper, her name sounds sophisticated, let her write scripts and capture the mass market.”

Liam’s eyes were practically bugging out as he looked at the names.

“Audrey, how do you know them?”

He nervously swallowed. “I swear I don’t have anything going on with them, I just… I just met them a few times…”

“I know you don’t have anything going on with them.”

I looked at him, a smirk playing on my lips.

“But I know you want to have something going on with them.”

Liam nearly fell to his knees in fright. “Audrey, I’m so sorry! I’ll block them right now! I definitely won’t hire them!”

“Don’t be silly!”

I grabbed his hand.

“Why block them? What a waste! This is our own exclusive, God-given audience!”

“Think about it. instead of letting them wander out there, getting tricked by some other shady guy, why not bring them into the company? You’re the boss, they’re the employees. Not only can they make you money, but you get to look at them every day. What’s that called? Killing two birds with one stone.”

Liam was speechless.

Slowly, his expression changed.

From fear to gratitude, then from gratitude to a kind of unbelievable euphoria.

He must have been imagining a scenario where. Audrey loves me so much, she’s even willing to help me find women and manage them right under her nose. What kind of wife does this? A truly magnanimous one!

“Audrey…”

Liam’s eyes welled up with tears of gratitude again.

“You’re so good to me. Don’t worry, even if they join, I’ll only treat them as employees. My heart is only for you!”

Duh, of course, you’ll only treat them as employees.

Because this life, I’ll use contracts that would make a shark blush, turning them into my personal golden geese.

As for you? You’re just a glorified figurehead.

“Alright, enough with the emotional stuff.”

I closed the laptop and stood up. “That Chloe woman, isn’t she coming to borrow money from you this afternoon?”

Liam gasped. “How do you know that too?”

“Don’t ask. Just call it a woman’s intuition.”

I pulled a phone stand with a built-in ring light from my bag and shoved it into Liam’s arms.

“When she gets here, don’t rush to give her money. Set this up and start a live stream.”

Liam looked utterly confused. “Start a live stream for what?”

I patted his shoulder and smiled.

“These sweet girls are too naive, the world out there is dangerous. Don’t you dare mess with them, let me handle it.”

“I’m going to give them a warm home-a ‘home’ with no days off and a fifty-million-dollar buyout clause.”

“Get ready. It’s time to reel in our first batch of unsuspecting fish.”

4 Audrey POV

At three in the afternoon, the girl in the white dress appeared at the basement door right on schedule.

Chloe.

True to her name, Chloe was delicate and utterly captivating.

She wasn’t carrying the designer bag that would later make her famous, just a faded canvas tote.

Standing there, she was the picture of a fragile, innocent damsel in distress.

“Liam…”

That emotionally charged whisper almost melted the resolve of Liam, who had just sworn to become a ‘ruthless entrepreneur.’

Liam instinctively stood up; his old, irritating hero complex kicked in.

He hurried over, his face etched with concern. “Chloe, don’t cry. Is it your mother’s illness again…?”

“Your mother’s medical bills are five thousand dollars short, aren’t they?”

I sat on the broken sofa, fiddling with the phone stand, cutting Chloe off before she could speak.

Chloe froze, her tear-filled eyes turning to me in alarm.

“How do you know that?”

I ignored her, merely nodding towards Liam. “What are you waiting for? Move.”

Liam looked anxious. “Audrey, Chloe is really in trouble. Even though I don’t have money now, can’t we-“

“Shut up.”

I pushed the annoying obstacle aside and shoved the phone, already set with a beauty filter, directly in front of Chloe’s face.

“Want to save your mother?”

Chloe was startled by my aggressive stance, instinctively nodding, her tears falling even faster.

“If you want to save your mother, listen to me.”

I turned on the ring light. “Don’t cry to this broke guy, he can’t even spare five hundred dollars. If you’re going to cry, cry into this.”

I pointed to the phone camera.

“This is…?”

Chloe was bewildered.

“This is called live streaming.”

I deftly changed the live stream title. “Shocking! Pure Beauty Will Do ANYTHING to Save Her Mom… Friends, Who Can Relate?!”

“Come on, look at the camera. Recreate that emotion from your ‘Liam’ earlier, but change ‘Liam’ to ‘friends.’ Three, two, one, we’re live!”

Chloe hadn’t even reacted, and the number of viewers in the stream began to skyrocket.

After all, in an era saturated with loud, obnoxious influencers, a natural, wholesome beauty like Chloe, crying with such raw vulnerability, was pure gold.

“Cry!”

I mouthed silently from off-camera, shaking a wad of cash to encourage her.

Chloe looked at the rapidly scrolling comments on the screen. The mix of injustice, fear, and worry for her mother’s condition erupted.

“I… I just don’t know what to do anymore…”

In that moment, I had to admit, some people are just naturally gifted.

Chloe’s crying performance had so many layers.

It wasn’t a wailing cry, but rather red-rimmed eyes, a pink nose, and tears that trembled on the verge of falling.

The comments section exploded.

“Her crying is literally breaking my heart!” “Who is this angel? So much better than all those filter freaks!” “Does she need money? Send me her Venmo!”

In just ten minutes, the backend revenue soared from zero to fifty thousand dollars.

That was more money than Liam made in a whole month in my last life!

The live stream ended. I turned off the phone, looking at the string of zeros in the backend, and snapped my fingers in satisfaction.

“One hundred thousand dollars.”

I showed the phone screen to Chloe, who was still sobbing softly.

“After platform fees and my management cut, you get fifty thousand dollars. That’s enough for your mother’s surgery.”

Chloe stared blankly at the number, forgetting to cry.

She looked at me, then at Liam, as if her entire worldview had just shattered.

“You’re my savior!”

Chloe suddenly grabbed my hand. “Can I stream again tomorrow? I can cry more! I can cry in even more creative ways!”

I smiled.

See, that’s human nature.

In the face of absolute profit, love means nothing.

I pulled out a pre-prepared ‘Exclusive Artist Management Contract’ from my bag.

“Sign it.”

I smiled. “From now on, I’m your manager. Forget medical bills; as long as you’re obedient, I’ll make you the number one influencer on the internet. You’ll be crying in a pile of designer bags then.”

Chloe didn’t even read the terms, signing it more decisively than Liam had.

Done.

When Chloe left, Liam was still in a daze.

He watched her retreating back, hugging the contract and grinning foolishly-the same girl who used to cling to him-and couldn’t help but run after her.

“Chloe, um… don’t you have anything to say to me?”

Chloe stopped, turning to look at him.

Her eyes were clear, with a hint of disdain, and a touch of impatience.

“Oh, Liam.”

She waved her phone. “My manager says I can’t interact with anyone outside my top ten followers now. It’ll hurt my engagement.”

“Besides, I need to go home and study live streaming strategies tonight. I don’t have time to chat with you.”

With that, she walked off with light steps, not even looking back.

Liam stood there, wind-swept and utterly bewildered, looking like a lost puppy.

He turned to me, his face full of hurt. “Audrey, she’s changed. She wasn’t like this before. She used to be an angel who lived on dew drops…”

“Wake up.”

I patted his face, transferring my half of the commission into the company account.

“Even angels need to eat. She drank dew before because she couldn’t afford a soda.”

“And stop moping around. This is just the beginning.”

I looked at the next name in my contacts. Blair.

“Get ready. We’re going to a bar tonight. Our next core asset is still out there, getting harassed.”

“Our company needs a head of security. That feisty girl with the sharp tongue would be perfect.”

5 Audrey POV

With Chloe sorted, the company account now had fifty thousand dollars in liquid funds.

Liam felt invincible again.

That night, he specifically changed into a ridiculously flashy Hawaiian shirt, doused his hair in half a bottle of hairspray, and drove that beat-up Jetta-the one where everything rattled but the horn worked-taking me to the Nightfall Bar on the south side of town.

“Audrey, Blair is singing here.”

Liam explained his philosophy of seduction while backing up the car.

“You don’t understand, Blair is different from Chloe. Chloe is water; Blair is fire. Her untamed wildcat nature is exactly what excites a man’s desire to conquer… Holy crap!”

With a loud crash, Liam backed into a garbage can.

I looked at him. “You can’t even conquer a garbage can, and you think you can tame a wildcat? Get out.”

Inside the bar, heavy metal music blared, deafening.

No need to search; the most chaotic corner of the bar was where Blair was.

At that moment, Blair, dressed in a black studded leather jacket and combat boots, was surrounded by several drunk men.

“Hey, cutie, nice singing. How about a drink with us?”

If this were before, Liam would have charged right in, usually ending up with a bruised face, then Blair would tearfully tend to his wounds, and their relationship would deepen.

But this time, I grabbed Liam by the back of his collar.

“What’s the rush? Enjoy the show.”

Blair merely sneered, her beautiful face showing no fear.

She didn’t even lift a hand. She simply stood with one hand on her hip, took a deep breath.

Then, a verbal barrage began.

“Had a shot or two and forgot if you were born or hatched? Look at that underdeveloped brain of yours, is public lewdness some kind of evolutionary throwback? Even if you tried to get a do-over in your mother’s womb, the amniotic fluid would reject you as non-recyclable waste…”

Her words came fast, logical, and overwhelmingly powerful.

For a full five minutes, the drunkards were stunned into silence, their faces turning crimson, unable to get a single word in edgewise.

The onlookers were amazed, some even wanting to applaud.

Liam was also stunned. He swallowed, retreating slightly. “This… this is too scary. Who could ever handle her?”

“I think she’s great.”

This isn’t a shrew; this is an internet-savvy PR genius!

What’s the biggest fear for influencers nowadays?

Haters and trolls.

We need someone like Blair. If anyone dares to stir up trouble in Chloe’s live stream, or badmouth our company, Blair’s mouth alone could replace a whole PR department!

Just as the drunkards, red-faced with anger, were about to get physical-

“Stop!”

It wasn’t Liam who yelled, it was me.

Of course, I wasn’t foolish enough to rush into a physical fight myself.

I snapped my fingers, and two burly men I’d hired by the hour immediately stepped forward like iron towers, blocking Blair.

“Company business. You randos, clear out.”

I’m quite good at putting on a show.

Seeing the situation, the drunkards grumbled and left.

Blair tossed her red hair, looking at me warily.

“Who are you? Don’t think just because you helped me, I owe you a drink.”

“A drink?”

I glanced at the cheap, blended liquor on the table.

“Even a dog wouldn’t touch this swill.”

I pulled out a newly printed business card-MCN agency founder-and handed it to her, holding it between two fingers.

“Your insults were pretty good just now. Great rhythm, rich vocabulary. Interested in a different place to do your yelling?”

Blair looked bewildered. “Huh?”

“I run a media company.”

I pointed to Liam, who was cowering behind me. “This is my number one employee. I think you’re a natural talent for verbal sparring. I’d like to hire you as our company’s PR Director and Head of Security.”

Blair looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you nuts? I only sing.”

“Singing is a dead end. How many singers end up as homeless people?”

I hit her with the harsh truth.

“But you can argue! Do you know how annoying those keyboard warriors online are these days? I need someone specifically to deal with them.”

“Eight thousand dollars a month. Bonuses if you win the arguments. If you lose… I don’t think you’re capable of losing.”

Blair’s wariness slowly faded, replaced by a hopeful glint in her eyes, like someone who’d found a stroke of luck.

“Really?” Blair raised an eyebrow. “Can I curse out the boss?”

She pointed at Liam.

I glanced at Liam, who was about to try and chat her up, and smiled. “If he acts like an idiot, go nuts. It’ll count as overtime.”

“Deal!”

Blair gave me a firm high-five, then turned to Liam.

Liam had just formulated the line, “Blair, I’ve come to rescue you.”

Blair looked him up and down. “Well, well, isn’t this the loser who was hiding behind a woman earlier? So much hairspray, aren’t you afraid a spark will roast that walnut-sized brain of yours?”

He looked at me for help. “Audrey, she… why is she attacking her own team?”

I patted Liam’s shoulder, stifling a laugh. “Ms. Blair is undergoing her job assessment. Looks like her skills are top-notch.”

“From now on, behave yourself at the company.”

I walked out with my newly recruited general, Blair, leaving Liam with a cold, retreating back.

“Blair has a temper. If you mess up your affairs in the future and she curses you into therapy, the company won’t be responsible for your shrink bills.”

6 Audrey POV

Having lost both Chloe’s tender affection and Blair’s admiration, Liam fell into a deep depression.

He huddled in a corner of the basement, sighing over his rickety old computer.

“Audrey, you don’t understand.”

He held a book of poetry, his eyes melancholic.

“Chloe and Blair are too materialistic; they only care about money. My soul has nowhere to rest. I need someone who truly understands me, a soulmate to discuss poetry with, to watch the stars and snow…”

I was busy calculating Chloe’s sales commission from last night and didn’t even look up. “Spit it out. Are you trying to go after Harper, the aspiring writer, again?”

Liam choked, then straightened up indignantly.

“Harper is different! She’s a writer, an intellectual! She doesn’t care about money; she’s the last pure soul in this superficial world!”

“Pure soul?”

I closed my ledger. “Fine. Let’s go see if this ‘pure soul’ really doesn’t need to eat.”

When we found Harper, this ‘pure soul’ was squatting outside her rental apartment, gnawing on a dry bagel.

That’s right, no water, just dry bread.

Her landlord stood over her, hands on hips, yelling, “Don’t tell me I’m picking on you because you’re poor! These piles of scrap paper aren’t paying the rent! If you don’t fork over the cash, you and your precious manuscripts are out!”

Scattered across the ground were piles of manuscripts, all full of meaningless rambling.

Liam’s face twisted with anguish at the sight.

His old male complex kicked in again.

“Stop! How dare you insult her? Harper, don’t be afraid, I’m here…”

He reached for his pocket, then remembered I’d confiscated his wallet long ago. He was even poorer than Harper.

“Move.”

I once again pushed aside this useless windbag and walked up to Harper.

Harper looked up. Her face indeed had an artistic quality, her eyes filled with stubborn defiance.

“Are you here to mock me?”

She bit her lip, shielding her manuscripts on the ground. “Even if I’m poor, my words have soul…”

“Can ‘soul’ pay the bills?”

I bent down, picked up a manuscript, and scanned it.

‘My Star Has Vanished…’

I shook my head in disdain. “What era are we in, still writing this kind of stuff? Readers are under so much stress these days, who wants to read your self-indulgent navel-gazing? People want satisfaction!”

Harper’s face flushed crimson. “What do you know! This is art! I don’t write that market-pleasing trash!”

“What if writing ‘trash’ could get you a villa, a luxury car, and lobster for every meal?”

I pulled out a ‘Hit Scriptwriting Contract’ from my bag.

“I’m the CEO of a media company. I’ve seen your writing skills; you have potential for Alpha-CEO dramas.”

“We’re going to produce vertical short dramas with a plot twist every minute, a dramatic slap every three, and the male lead on his knees begging for mercy every five. Things like ‘My Arrogant CEO Loves Me,’ ‘Rebirth as a Billionaire,’ ‘The Abandoned Heiress and Her Secret Babies’…”

Harper’s eyes went wide. “You… you want me to write that meaningless garbage? I’d rather die! It’s blasphemy against literature!”

Liam chimed in from the side. “Exactly! Audrey, you’re going too far. Harper writes pure literature, how can you make her write for the mass market…”

“Twenty thousand dollars base salary, plus ten percent royalties for a hit.”

I interrupted them, calmly laying out my offer.

“Based on current market trends, a single hit script can earn a writer… this much.”

I held up five fingers.

“Five… five thousand dollars?”

Harper tentatively asked.

“Five hundred thousand dollars.”

The air suddenly went silent.

The half-eaten bagel in Harper’s hand clattered to the ground.

In that instant, I saw the ‘soul of literature’ in her eyes furiously battling against ‘five hundred thousand dollars.’

In approximately 0.01 seconds, five hundred thousand dollars round-kicked the soul right out.

Harper abruptly stood up, brushed the dirt off her pants, her eyes blazing with newfound determination.

“As long as the money’s right, forget an arrogant CEO loving me-I’ll write about an arrogant CEO loving a dog!”

Back at the company, I set aside a special corner for Harper, christening it the “Billionaire Scriptwriting Center.”

Harper truly was a talented writer; her creative drive was like a raging river.

“I’ve got the first script! It’s called ‘After 1800 Hours of Overtime and a $20,000 Deduction from My Bonus, the CEO Panicked When I Quit’! That will definitely resonate with every overworked employee!”

Harper, disheveled and with her glasses reflecting an eerie glow, furiously typed away.

“Excellent.”

I nodded in satisfaction. “But a pain point isn’t enough; you need a character. You need a… well, a greasy, overconfident, and particularly dishonest CEO as your prototype.”

Harper chewed on her pen, looking stumped. “That kind of extreme character is hard to find…”

Both Harper’s and my gazes slowly, precisely, shifted towards Liam, who was quietly drinking water in the corner.

Liam felt a shiver run down his spine.

“What… why are you two looking at me like that?”

Harper’s eyes lit up, like a hungry wolf spotting prey.

“He’s perfect! Right there! That ‘detached coolness with a hint of condescending amusement’ kind of look! That ‘Woman, you’ve successfully caught my attention’ air of self-importance!”

“Mr. Liam!”

Harper rushed over, grabbing Liam by the collar. “Quick! Say all those lies you used to tell your employees again! I need to record them as dialogue!”

“And that subtly evil expression you had earlier, do it again! I want to write it into the climax of the first episode!”

Liam was so scared he pressed himself against the wall, trembling.

“I’m the boss… I’m the CEO! You can’t do this to me…”

“Mr. Liam, just cooperate.”

I leisurely cracked open some sunflower seeds. “If Harper’s show is a hit, our company’s cash flow will be stable. Didn’t you say you’d sacrifice everything for your startup? What’s a little contribution of your likeness and reputation?”

Liam was on the verge of tears.

The next month, Liam entered his darkest hour.

During the day, he was dragged by Chloe to be a live stream background prop, holding up signs.

At noon, Blair pulled him into ‘insult training,’ serving as her punching bag.

At night, Harper made him run lines, repeating cringeworthy Alpha-CEO dialogues over and over. If his emotions weren’t quite right, Harper would snap, “Your acting is terrible; you’re messing up my writing schedule!”

A month later, the first short drama, ‘Rebirth. I’m the Heiress’s Nanny,’ premiered.

The male lead was a complete replica of Liam, even using his favorite line, “How can you achieve greatness if you can’t even handle this little bit of hardship?” In the show, the male lead eventually went bankrupt and ended up picking garbage, only to be kicked into a trash can by the female lead.

The show was a massive hit.

Total views across the internet exceeded ten billion. Harper became an overnight sensation, with six-figure royalties.

Watching the constantly fluctuating numbers in the company account, I patted Liam, who was thoroughly questioning his existence.

“See, that’s the power of knowledge monetization.”

“Don’t go looking for soulmates anymore. Your soul is too cheap. Harper charges by the word now. A single conversation with you would cost two hundred dollars. Can you afford that?”

Liam looked at Harper, who was counting money so fast her hands were cramping, and silently retreated back to his corner against the wall.