I woke up and realized I had been transmigrated into a ridiculously dramatic, high-stakes novel about a switch at birth. The original "fake heiress" I now inhabited was known for her wicked, petty schemes, constantly framing the true heroine only to be exposed time and again. My adoptive parents, the Prescotts, had grown deeply disappointed and confined her to her room for reflection. But the girl only escalated things, eventually being kicked out of the house and left to struggle in poverty. I, the new fake heiress, lay on my silk-sheeted, cloud-soft king-sized bed, tears streaming down my face. This is it. This is the ultimate, glorious win for the chronically lazy! When my confinement was over, my adoptive mother, Mrs. Prescott, sighed. “Do you understand your mistakes now? You’ve lost so much weight—” She trailed off, her eyes fixed on my distinctly plumper face. I immediately flung myself into her arms, speaking with profound, theatrical sincerity. “Mom, I’ve been awful. I formally request another month of reflection!” Mrs. Prescott just blinked. 1 She reached up and touched my forehead, her voice laced with worry. “Oh, darling, should we call Dr. Evans? Are you delirious?” I shook my head vigorously. “I’m not sick! I’m truly, deeply remorseful!” “This past week, I’ve had a profound realization. I’ve not only failed you and Dad, who raised me, but I’ve also deeply hurt your biological daughter, Stella. My behavior has been inexcusable!” As I watched Mrs. Prescott’s eyes well up, I spoke with righteous conviction. “Since I’ve committed such wrongs, I should face the appropriate penalty. A single week of confinement is far too lenient. I’m requesting a full month of further reflection. I promise, I will be a changed woman.” She stroked my cheek, tears now openly glistening in her eyes. “It’s enough that you realize your mistakes, sweetheart. You’ve suffered this past week.” Suffered? I nearly lost control of my expression. Since transmigrating, I’d been eating three gourmet meals a day, catered by a Michelin-level chef. I’d been sleeping on a custom, high-end mattress perfect for endless rolling. They’d left me my phone, worried I might be bored, allowing me to spend my days in a glorious, golden haze, tipping hot streamers and influencers like I had unlimited cash. If this is the kind of suffering required for a happy ending, I’d gladly take on the burden for the entire world! Just as I was about to negotiate a sentence extension, a soft, contemptuous snort sounded from the doorway. I looked up. A man in a sleek, black quarter-zip, hands shoved deep into his pockets, leaned against the frame. His jawline was sharp, his brow prominent—a perfect, chiseled face. But he radiated a wall of cold pressure. Meeting his eyes, which held a distinct, icy disdain, I nearly shivered. This was Reid Prescott, the original fake heiress’s cheap adoptive brother. “What’s the act, Sienna?” His voice was flat, bored. “You think the ‘playing hard to get’ reverse psychology routine still works?” He looked at me like I was a piece of trash. In the novel, the original Sienna and Reid were constantly at odds. When they were kids, she broke one of his expensive model cars and then successfully framed him, leading to Reid getting scolded by our father. These incidents happened frequently, and the two became bitter enemies. As an adult, Reid moved out entirely. When the real heiress, Stella, returned, Reid had been the one to walk in on and expose several of the original Sienna’s worst schemes. I sighed internally but offered a sincere apology externally. “Reid, I’m truly sorry. For all the times I bullied you as a child, and especially for purposely getting you in trouble with Mom and Dad.” Reid froze for a fraction of a second. Then his expression hardened, his cold eyes filling with pure loathing. “Don’t call me ‘Bro.’ I only have one sister.” A mocking smirk twisted his lips. “If you’re truly sorry, why don’t you just do us all a favor and walk out of this house? How about that for an apology?” I lowered my head and thought about it. I had plenty of cash in my accounts. It didn’t sound so bad, actually. Mrs. Prescott cut in, rubbing her temples, a flash of exhaustion in her eyes. “Reid, as her older brother, you need to give Sienna a chance to change.” Fearing they’d start fighting again, I quickly nodded and held up three fingers in a solemn vow. “If I ever cause trouble again, I will leave voluntarily! I won’t get in anyone’s way!” Reid frowned, scrutinizing my face as if he were seeing me for the first time. The icy assessment lasted so long I started to sweat. He finally spoke, his voice low and cold. “Remember that promise. If you hurt Stella again, I will personally drag you out and drop you on the street.” He turned and walked away. 2 At dinner, with the whole family present, I offered a second, formal apology to Stella and Reid, promising never to hurt anyone again. Stella’s beautiful, clear face remained wary, and she said nothing. Reid just scoffed, not even bothering to look up from his plate. I didn’t blame them for their disgust. The Prescotts had genuinely been wonderful parents to the original Sienna, spoiling her for the first twenty years of her life. Even after they learned the truth, their attitude didn’t change; they simply tried to treat both girls equally while compensating Stella. But the original Sienna, utterly spoiled, couldn’t tolerate the slightest loss of status. Even though she was the usurper, she acted out, using every underhanded trick to make the Prescotts misunderstand Stella. She was malicious, but dumb. Every attempt was quickly exposed. This current confinement followed an incident where she’d nearly pushed Stella down a flight of stairs during a fight, finally exhausting the Prescotts’ patience. Fortunately, we were still in the early stages of the novel, and the original Sienna hadn’t caused any irreparable harm yet. There was still a chance for redemption, or at least, stability. Mr. Prescott looked genuinely relieved. “It’s good that you finally understand, Sienna. Stella, what do you say?” Seeing Stella hesitate, I jumped in immediately. “I’ve done far too many terrible things. It’s absolutely fine if you can’t forgive me. The victim has every right to withhold forgiveness.” Everyone stared at me, momentarily taken aback. Stella looked at me, a complex emotion in her eyes. After a moment of silence, she spoke. “I forgive you, Sienna. I truly hope you mean it this time.” I nodded frantically, then looked at Reid, full of hopeful expectation. After all, he was the one who personally threw the original Sienna out of the house in the climax. Reid gave a short, derisive grunt and looked away. Stella spoke with a touch of exasperation. “I think he forgives you, too.” Reid snapped, “I didn’t say that.” But his tone was noticeably softer. The Prescotts were beaming. The constant feud between their children had been their biggest headache, and now, finally, there was peace. A relatively warm atmosphere settled over the dining room. I breathed a sigh of relief. No street sleeping for me. My life of glorious, luxurious inertia was officially commencing! 3 For the next month, my main activities were lying down and cultivating relationships. Don’t let my profound laziness fool you; I’m actually great at people management. A charming word here and there can lead to many hidden perks. The executive pastry chef now prioritizes my flavor preferences for the afternoon tea. The junior staff often gossip with me about the Prescotts’ social circle. And Hudson, the butler, reports my stellar behavior to my adoptive parents. They get happy. They deposit more money. The only occasional blight was Reid, who seemed to go out of his way to annoy me. Whenever he saw me chatting happily with someone, he’d give a cold, inexplicable sneer. “You certainly know how to buy affection.” To avoid him, I forced myself to leave the house, returning only late in the evening. A week later, I stealthily crept up to Stella’s door. Just as I placed a carefully wrapped box on the floor, Reid’s icy voice stabbed me from behind. “What are you trying to do to Stella now?” I gasped and whipped my head around, instantly wrenching my neck. “Ow! Seriously, ow!” After a rapid scramble of confusion, Hudson rushed me to a private clinic for x-rays. I was back by evening, fitted with a stiff cervical collar. I found Stella staring at the gift I’d left her—a custom-made ceramic mug, hand-painted with intricate quantum physics formulas. Stella was on the path to becoming a world-class physicist. Reid looked slightly uncomfortable. “Why did you leave a gift and then run away like a thief?” I spoke weakly, the collar restricting my movement. “Well, I… I was afraid Stella wouldn’t accept it, so that was the only way I could express my apology.” In my experience, avoiding conflict with the heroine is key. Becoming her friend is the jackpot. Stella finally offered me the first genuine smile I’d ever seen from her. It was subtle, but as refreshing as a cool spring breeze. “Thank you, Sienna. I love it.” Tilting my head up as much as the collar allowed, I smiled back. “I’m glad.” Yes! My stable, glorious life was even more secure now! 4 The Prescotts, upon hearing the story, thoroughly chewed Reid out. He stood there, head bowed, taking the lecture without a word. Fearing he’d retaliate later, I quickly tried to intercede. “It’s not Reid’s fault. I just moved too fast.” He shot me a glacial side-eye. “Shut up.” I immediately fell silent. The neck injury gave me a legitimate excuse to stay in my room 24/7. Esther, the housekeeper who had become my favorite person, brought me all my meals. With a huge mouthful of roast chicken, I mumbled my praise. “Esther, your food is the best. I could eat two bowls!” Esther’s eyes crinkled with delight. “It makes me so happy to see you eat, Miss Sienna.” “Esther, you’re so wonderful. Your grandkids must be the luckiest people alive!” “Oh, you sweet talker! Here, have a little more!” “If only you could feed me every day, Esther. I think my appetite would suffer without you, honestly.” “If Miss Sienna likes it, I’d feed you every day!” “Wow, really?” … Reid, who had been standing outside, black-faced, finally pushed the door open. He was carrying the afternoon tea the pastry chef had made for me. He sneered. “Are you an infant? You’re old enough to vote and you still need someone to spoon-feed you? Does Esther have nothing better to do than wait on you?” Esther quickly intervened. “It’s fine, Mr. Reid. Miss Sienna is still injured—” Reid cut her off. “I’ll do it.” Esther and I exchanged the exact same look of utter confusion. Huh? He cleared his throat and looked away. “Mom and Dad told me to look after you. Happy now?” Assuming this was a touching moment of sibling bonding, Esther beamed, stood up, and happily listed all my dietary restrictions to a grudging Reid. After she left, he grumbled that I was “high-maintenance” but resignedly picked up my cutlery. He scooped a rough spoonful of rice. “Eat.” I shrank my head back and shook it. “I’m full.” Are you kidding me? I wouldn't dare let him feed me! He’d probably poison me! Reid tsked, shoved the spoonful directly into my mouth, and spoke in a hard, cold voice. “It tastes bad when I feed you, is that it?” Yes, but I couldn’t say it. After dutifully finishing the meal, he stood up to leave. I called out to him. “Wait, I want some of that chocolate pudding.” “…” “I’m a little parched. Can I have some juice?” “…” “Could you grab my phone, please?” “…” “And, um—” A vein throbbed on Reid’s temple. He looked like he was about to explode. “What else? Just spit it out!” I was genuinely afraid he might hit me, so I shrank back. “Actually, I need you to open that cabinet.” He complied. From inside, he pulled out a fully customized, vintage-spec Mustang model. The moment he saw it, his tense expression fractured. “I’m so sorry about that model car I broke when we were little. I made this one myself. I know it can’t really compensate for it, but…” After a long silence, Reid slowly turned to face me. His dark eyes, usually so cold they were unnerving, were now slightly watery. “So you’ve been sneaking out of the house… to build this?” I nodded honestly. “If you don’t want it—” “Hmph. What a waste of time.” Despite the dismissive words, he picked up the model and took it with him. I let out a long, deep breath. My life of glorious, subsidized inactivity was finally, truly locked in! 5 The good times didn’t last. The Prescotts finally got fed up with my vampire sleep schedule and ordered me to go on a hike with Reid and Stella. No amount of sweet talk or cheesy flattery could get me out of it. I slumped dramatically onto the floor like a deflated balloon, utterly devoid of life. Reid ruthlessly grabbed my hood and began dragging me toward the door. “I want to see if a buzzard will mistake you for roadkill.” Stella chuckled and gently swatted his hand away. “Cut it out, Bro. Don’t tease Sienna. She’s just not an outdoor person.” I looked at Stella with tearful gratitude. “You are my patron saint! My Goddess!” She smiled. “But you really do need some activity. Your last checkup showed a little bone density loss.” I groaned. No debate. No appeal. Halfway up the trail, I was drenched in sweat and ghostly pale. Stella and Reid were far ahead. I found a rock and collapsed onto it. Looking down through the dense, vibrant canopy, I gasped. Oh my god. Down in the valley was a vast, Gothic-revival manor, a sprawling, turreted castle straight out of a movie. I was completely mesmerized and didn't realize I'd found the perfect, hidden viewing spot. A moment later, I heard Stella calling my name. I waved. “Over here!” She followed the narrow path I’d taken. I immediately noticed her face was bloodless, her lips pale as paper. Startled, I asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She rubbed her temple. “Dizzy. I probably didn’t eat enough; it’s low blood sugar.” I quickly stripped off my jacket to cushion the rock for her. “Sit here. I’ll get you some snacks.” Just as I unzipped my backpack, my wrist was seized with crushing force. Reid’s eyes, fixed on me, were colder and more hateful than when he first saw me. He looked barely contained by his own fury. “Sienna, you haven’t changed at all! I was a damn idiot to ever think you’d changed!” “What the hell did you do to Stella?” The pain in my wrist made me instinctively fight back. Stella panicked. “Reid, stop! I just have low blood sugar. I’m just resting! Let her go!” He flinched, his hand instantly dropping. The sudden release, combined with my forward momentum, made me stumble backward. My foot caught on a loose rock at the edge of the path, and I slipped, tumbling down the steep embankment. It happened in a second. No one could react. “Shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” I curled into a ball, tucking my head, and rolled. Luckily, a thick, low-hanging tree finally stopped my descent. I struggled to my feet and checked the damage. Without my jacket for protection, I had multiple scrapes, and my right arm felt sickeningly wrong—a dislocated shoulder. I could still see the majestic manor from here. I sighed, then started limping down the slope. I’ve paid my dues. The debt to the original fake heiress is officially settled. I’m done with the whole redemption arc! I am going back to being a happy mole person, and anyone who tries to stop me will be met with a scathing look! After finally making it to the paved road, I just lay down on the roadside. I don’t know how long I was there, but a sleek Bugatti Veyron eventually rolled to a smooth stop beside me. The door opened. I managed to pry my eyes open, catching sight of a man in a black suit, sculpted from marble, looking utterly perfect. I stared blankly. “Excuse me, am I dead? Is that why I’m seeing an angel?” The man in the car paused, then slowly cast his eyes toward me.
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