My Fake Heiress Girlfriend Poisoned Me — Now I’m Back From The Dead To Destroy Her

Part 1

I choked on a mouthful of my own dark blood, the acrid, burning metallic taste suffocating me as my lungs violently collapsed.

Brenda stood at the foot of my hospital bed with a cold, detached smile.

The heart monitor beside me beeped in a frantic, irregular rhythm.

“You really thought this marriage was about love?”

The poison burned like battery acid through my veins.

My vision blurred at the edges, but I could clearly see the sheer disgust masking her features.

Craig stepped out of the shadows and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist.

He was the man she had always claimed was just a harmless friend from her college days.

Dan, my family’s trusted butler and Brenda’s older brother, stepped up to the side of my bed.

He leaned down, his breath warm against my ear.

“I made the call that got your father kidnapped,” Dan whispered.

“I put him in that coma because he overheard something he shouldn’t have.”

My heart shattered into a million jagged pieces.

I had given Brenda absolutely everything I had.

I hid my billionaire status and pretended to be a lowly servant just to see if she would love me for who I was.

She used my immense wealth to play the rich heiress while treating me like absolute garbage.

The monitor let out a single, piercing flatline tone.

The door burst open and Megan rushed into the hospital room.

Megan was the quiet medical student who had always treated me with genuine kindness.

She dropped to her knees beside my bed, tears streaming down her face.

I wanted to apologize for pushing her away and failing to see her worth.

Darkness swallowed me whole before I could force the words past my lips.

My eyes snapped open as a heavy bass drop vibrated violently through my chest.

I wasn’t hooked up to a buzzing hospital machine anymore.

I was standing at the edge of a velvet-roped VIP booth in a crowded nightclub.

The air smelled strongly of cheap cologne and expensive vodka.

Brenda was sitting across from me, throwing her head back in laughter as Craig whispered in her ear.

“Are you deaf or just dumb?”

Brenda snapped, glaring right at me.

“Go get us a bottle of Macallan thirty, and make it quick.”

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I looked down at my hands, strong and completely unscarred.

I had miraculously been sent back three whole years in the past.

I was right back in the middle of my own twisted, pathetic test.

Brenda was playing the wealthy socialite, spending my family’s fortune, while I played her obedient little servant.

Megan sat quietly at the far edge of the booth, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

“He’s being super aggressive,” Craig sneered, shoving his hand hard against my shoulder.

“Stay in your lane, servant boy.”

Cold, calculated anger washed away the lingering shock in my chest.

I wasn’t going to be their tragic, helpless victim this time around.

I turned on my heel and walked straight up to the glowing neon bar.

“Bottle of Macallan thirty on Brenda’s tab,” I told the bartender.

The bartender tapped the screen and shook his head in absolute confusion.

“Sorry, we don’t have a tab under that name.”

Brenda marched up behind me, her heels clicking loudly against the sticky club floor.

“That’s so weird,” Brenda scoffed, waving her hand dismissively at the worker.

“Just put it on my assistant’s card.”

I reached into my inner jacket pocket, pulled out my sleek Centurion card, and slapped it on the marble counter.

“My card,” I said, keeping my voice dangerously deadpan.

“Right away, Mr.

Tyler,” the bartender nodded respectfully, instantly recognizing the heavy metal.

Brenda stared at the black card, her jaw dropping completely open.

“How did a servant get a VIP card?” she hissed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“I’ve had it since sophomore year because I’m the real heir to Whitestone Ventures,” I said, projecting my voice over the loud music.

“You’re just my butler’s little sister.”

The group in the booth erupted into mocking laughter, assuming it was a pathetic joke.

Craig rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his cheap beer.

“You’re pathetic, Tyler,” Craig sneered, shaking his head.

Megan suddenly stood up, her face flushed with quiet fury.

“He’s not lying,” Megan said, her voice shaking but cutting clearly through the noise.

“You’re all just too shallow to see the truth right in front of you.”

I looked at Megan, really seeing the fierce loyalty in her eyes for the very first time.

I grabbed my jacket from the back of a bar stool and held my hand out to her.

“Let’s get out of this place,” I said softly.

We walked out of the club, leaving Brenda fuming and demanding answers from her confused friends.

I drove Megan back to her dorm, silently vowing to fix every single mistake I had made.

The next morning, I woke up early with a clear, ruthless plan forming in my mind.

I was going to systematically dismantle their perfect little lives piece by piece.

I started by making a quick phone call to my wealth management firm.

I permanently froze the unlimited secondary card I had foolishly given to Brenda.

I wanted to sit back and watch her fake world crumble under the heavy weight of reality.

A few hours later, my phone buzzed with an urgent fraud alert notification.

Multiple massive transactions had just been declined at an exclusive boutique downtown.

I smiled, grabbing my car keys from the kitchen counter.

I knew exactly where she was currently playing pretend.

I walked through the glass doors of the luxury store just as Brenda was throwing a massive, embarrassing tantrum.

She was trying to buy Craig a hundred-thousand-dollar vintage watch.

I watched the color drain from Brenda’s face as the cashier handed back her useless black card.