"Do whatever you want with me?"
Nicky's voice had barely faded when she hoisted two more boxes and started up the temporary warehouse stairs. Reaching the third-floor shelving area, she lowered her arms and dropped the boxes heavily onto the ground. A dull thud echoed through the phone's microphone into the livestream, and the comments instantly grew more skeptical:
[All talk! What's stopping you from backing out later?]
[Who would believe you? Last time you promised your fans a makeup removal livestream and stood up the entire room.]
[Stop acting all generous and just admit you're using this bet for clout!]
Nicky bent over, brushed the dust off her cargo pants, and strolled casually back into frame. Sunlight cut diagonally through a skylight, illuminating her dusty combat boots, but it couldn't hide the certainty in her eyes. "You're getting this worked up over a bet that costs you nothing?" she arched an eyebrow, her tone laced with casual sarcasm. "Feel free to screen record. The bet stands until the debt deadline. Want to add more conditions? Come at me anytime—after all, you're all so sure I'll lose. What are you afraid of?"
"Unless…" she paused deliberately, a smirk playing on her lips, "…you're actually afraid you might end up liking me?"
"Taking so long to reply—are you too busy behind your screens thinking of a comeback, or is the Wi-Fi bad at the cemetery?"
The provocation worked. Comments flew faster, viewer numbers surged past ten thousand, and hashtags like #NickysWarehouseBet and #CondéNastHeiressPayback began creeping up TikTok's trending list. As the topic gained traction, more curious viewers flooded in, pushing the live count to eighteen thousand.
Some newcomers were intrigued by her story, others drawn by her looks, but many were fans of the original female lead, Luna, or netizens who'd been crossed by the original Nicky:
[I made an anti-Nicky forum, everyone come vent! Link attached.]
[Sisters, it's time to get revenge for Luna! Think of the ten cruelest punishments for when she loses!]
[The vibe in this livestream is so toxic… but she really does seem to be actually moving those boxes.]
Nicky finally paused her work and found a shady spot to sit down. Pulling a half-finished water bottle from her canvas bag, she tilted her head back and drank deeply. droplets traced her jawline and fell onto her gray work vest, creating an unexpectedly wild kind of beauty. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sighed contentedly. "So refreshing!"
The moment caught on camera, and a different kind of comment began to appear:
[OMG… the way she drinks water is kinda hot? I think I'm lowkey swayed.]
[Putting the past aside, at least she's not running from her debts. That's better than those who disappear with the money, right?]
[Don't fall for it! Look up how she stole Luna's opportunities—it's disgusting!]
Noticing the comments, Nicky didn't rush to defend herself. Instead, she spoke calmly, "A villain? Please. I'm just a pretty woman the law hasn't caught up with yet."
"So I used money to buy opportunities before. What about it? If you had cash, would you save it for your coffin?"
"Now I'm broke. These boxes are the proof. Solid evidence."
Then she stood up, walked closer to the camera, her back straight, her gaze sharp enough to pierce through the screen. "But everything I lost—the Beverly Hills house, the Maserati, the restaurant I never got to open—I will take it all back."
"And every rumor from the past—I'll clear my name, one by one."
"Don't believe me?" She lifted her chin, her voice radiating the unshakable confidence of a transmigration veteran. "Then keep your eyes wide open. Watch me pay back every cent of this $137,896,831.32 debt. Watch me reclaim what's mine."
[Okay wait… why do I find that lowkey inspiring? Am I crazy?]
[Is she stuck in her rebellious phase? 'Take it all back'—what a joke.]
[Hold up! I just saw a trending topic saying Nicky committed suicide and this is her cousin streaming!?]
[Seriously? I'm going to check!]
In an instant, thousands of viewers vanished from the livestream—most diverted by the "Nicky Suicide" rumor. Nicky watched the numbers plummet, her expression darkening. She knew too well—her viewers were her lifeline. fewer viewers meant less heat value, which meant less lifespan and cash to exchange. This was cutting off her path to survival.
Her fists clenched, knuckles turning white. It was clear now—someone didn't want her to pay off her debt quietly. They'd rather spread lies and steal her spotlight.
This meant war.