My Sister Pretended to be the Billionaire's Wife

To become the wife of the richest man in the city, my sister did something unthinkableshe kidnapped Wallace Jacobsons beloved wife.

Then she turned to me.

Help me, she said, eyes gleaming with madness. Perform plastic surgery to make me look exactly like Mrs. Jacobson.

I tried to talk her out of it. I warned her that Wallace was no ordinary manhe was powerful, dangerous, and utterly obsessed with his wife. If he found out the truth, it wouldnt just be her downfall. It would be a bloodbath.

She smiled sweetly and nodded, pretending to accept my advice.

That night, while I was asleep, she crept into my room and slashed my face with a fruit knife.

"You bitch!" she screamed, her eyes wild. "You didnt want to help me, did you? Youve always hated me!"

"If I cant become Mrs. Jacobson, then you dont deserve to live!"

The pain was unbearablebut death came quickly.

Or so I thought.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day she first came to me with her insane request.

This time, I wouldn't beg her to stop. Since she was so eager to die, Id grant her wish myself.

"Sister," she said with excitement, just as before, "I kidnapped Wallaces wife. Hurry and give me surgery to make me look like her. I want to replace her and become Mrs. Jacobson!"

She was practically trembling with anticipation.

My sister already bore a 70% resemblance to Mrs. Jacobson. Every time she saw headlines of Wallace showering his wife with luxury, shed scowl and mutter bitterly, We look almost the same. Why is she living in a mansion while Im crammed into a subway with a bunch of losers?

In my past life, I thought she was just venting.

I had no idea she was planning a real kidnapping.

After the crime, she came straight to me, demanding I reshape her into Mrs. Jacobsons mirror image. She said it like she was asking for a manicure. Like it was reasonable.

I was stunned by her madness.

I tried to explain: even if she looked like Mrs. Jacobson, their personalities, habits, even the way they walkedeverything was different. Wallace wasnt a fool. He would find out.

And when he did, he would destroy her.

He was infamous for his cruelty, especially when it came to his wife. Rumor had it, once Mrs. Jacobson ate something spicy and coughedthe next day, the chefs teeth were all pulled out and he was soaked in chili water for three days.

Another time, she caught a cold, and Wallace personally dragged all the nannies into a freezer, furious that they hadn't protected her better.

If he ever learned someone dared kidnap and impersonate his wife

My sister nodded as if she understood, praised me for my "reason."

Then she butchered my face that night.

And now, reborn with the knowledge of her betrayal, I agreed to her request without hesitation.

I arranged her surgery at the clinic where I worked. As we prepped the operating room, every news channel was broadcasting the same thing:

Mrs. Jacobson has disappeared. A two million dollar reward has been offered for information.

Wallace has issued a chilling warning: Anyone who dares touch his wife will wish they were never born.

The whole city was in a frenzy. Some were terrified. Others were tempted by the reward.

Yet my sister sat there, calm as ever.

I glanced at her, unable to hold back my unease. "Arent you afraid Mrs. Jacobson will be rescued? If she is, shell expose everything."

My sister smirked. She wont say a word. Trust me.

My hand froze mid-disinfection.

Something in her tone told me everything I needed to knowMrs. Jacobson wasnt just kidnapped.

She was in danger. Real danger.

I never imagined my sister would go this far, just to live a life of luxury.

"Why are you zoning out?" she snapped. "Hurry up and start the operation!"

Then she smiled cruelly. "When I become Mrs. Jacobson, Ill reward you with a job as my nanny. Thats good enough for someone like you, right? Youll be able to brag about it to your little friends for years.

I looked down at her face, calm and expectant.

And I smiled.

She had no idea what was coming.

As if already living the dream of being the wife of the richest man, the corners of my sisters mouth curled upward in triumph. I didnt hesitate any longerI sedated her quickly and began the operation.

My dear sister. Since youre so eager to die, Ill grant your wish.

She bore an uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Jacobsonsame build, same facial features. The surgery was straightforward. Just a few delicate tweaks, and she looked exactly like her.

After the procedure, we returned home together. The moment we stepped through the door, my mother gasped in delight and rushed to my sisters side.

So alike... so alike! I always knew my Mary was born to be a rich mans wife!

She shoved me aside like I was nothing, her eyes glued to my sisters face, as if she were admiring a priceless artifact.

My father shot me a look of disgust, then turned to Mary, grinning from ear to ear. Mary, youre identical to Mrs. Jacobson now. Later, well call Wallace and tell him weve found you. Once you take her place, well receive tens of millions in reward!

His eyes gleamed with excitement, lips trembling with joy. My parents had always believed Mary was destined for wealth and privilege. Since childhood, she was treated like a precious jewelfed the finest food, dressed in luxury, showered with everything she desired.

And me? I lived on her leftovers.

In my past life, after my sister murdered me, my parents didnt even flinch. They cremated me without a second thought and covered up the truth by claiming I committed suicide.

I thought they were merely biased. I never expected them to be this monstroushelping her do something so despicable.

I looked at their greedy, deluded faces and couldnt help but speak. Do you really think its that easy to deceive the richest man? That a pretty face alone can fool him? Chase money blindly, and youll end up losing more than you bargained formaybe even your lives.

My mother slapped me hard across the face.

Who are you trying to scare, you useless coward? Youre just jealous well be living the high life while you rot in that pathetic little hospital of yours!

She sneered. What have you even accomplished in your miserable life? The only good thing youve done is give your sister a new face. Honestly, raising a dog wouldve been more worthwhile than raising you!

My father scoffed and added with contempt, Youre destined to be poor forever. Worthless. When Mary becomes Mrs. Jacobson, the entire Jacobson Group will be ours!

Mary gave me a cold glance and said mockingly, Some people are just bitter nobodies who know nothing but how to envy others.

Then she smirked. Did you really think I wouldnt be ready for this?

She strode into her room and came out wearing a limited-edition Herms dress, its scent rich with high-end perfume. It didnt take a genius to realize it had once belonged to Mrs. Jacobson.

My mother practically circled her, eyes glowing. Now that shes dressed up, she looks even more refined. That auraits like she is Mrs. Jacobson!

My father nodded with pride. That woman just got lucky. Our Mary is smarter, more deserving. Once she replaces her, the richest man will fall even harder in love.

To them, it was as if Mary had already stepped into the shoes of Mrs. Jacobson. They laughed wildly, drunk on delusion.

I could only shake my head.

Mary turned to me, lips curling into a smug smirk. Then, in a voice chillingly identical to Mrs. Jacobsons, she spoke:

"I've been studying her every dayher posts, her photos, her routines. I know what she eats, how she smiles, even the way she breathes."

"From this moment on, I am the only Mrs. Jacobson in this world."

"Youll always be beneath meout of reach."

Her performance was eerieflawless, even. And that only made the scene more grotesque.

My mother clapped her hands with delight, eyes shining with pride.

"Our Mary is amazing! She can mimic anyone! Even the voiceit's exactly like hers!"

My father nodded in agreement.

"That tone, that attitudeits spot on! Like Mrs. Jacobson herself is standing here!"

They were bursting with pride and ambition, completely intoxicated by their twisted fantasy.

But to me, they looked utterly insane.

Did they really believe this would work? That Wallacea man known for his obsession with his wifewouldnt notice something was off? He knew her every expression, every inflection, every breath. My sister's cheap imitation wouldn't fool him for a second.

And yet, they continued rehearsing their grand deception.

Mary turned to them and instructed calmly, like a director briefing her actors:

"Later, call the bounty hotline. Say you found me unconscious on the roadside and brought me home out of kindness. When the time comes, Ill thank you personally, and Wallaces ten million will be in your hands."

My mothers grin stretched ear to ear.

"Dont worry, well act our hearts out."

She turned to Mary with pride swelling in her voice.

"My brilliant daughter, one move and youve made us millionaires!"

Mary arrogantly lifted her chin.

"From now on, call me Mrs. Jacobson."

Without hesitation, my mother bowed slightly, as if greeting royalty.

"Yes, Mrs. Jacobson. Our future depends on you."

Even my father, usually reserved, was practically trembling with excitement. He wiped his hands on his pants before dialing the number on the reward poster. With a composed voice, he gave them our address, just as rehearsed.

When he hung up, the house burst into excitement. My parents began fantasizing about mansions, cars, and lavish dinners.

I watched them, my face cold.

They had no idea the hell they were summoning.

In the eyes of someone like Wallace, they were nothing but ants trying to impersonate a god. Once he uncovered the truthand he wouldtheir fates would be far worse than they imagined.

I had already died once because of them. I would not let them drag me down again.

While their backs were turned, I quietly packed my things. My only goal: get out before the storm broke.

Just as I reached for the door handle, my father stepped in front of me.

"Where do you think youre going?"

I forced a steady voice.

"The hospital sent me on a business trip. I have a flight to catch."

Marys gaze locked onto me, cold and sharp. She sneered.

"Sister, youre not thinking of betraying me, are you?"

Before I could answer, my mother lunged forward and gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin.

"You ungrateful wretch!" she hissed. "If you dare say a word, Ill kill you myself!"

She raised her hand to strike me.

But before it fella knock at the door.

Everything stopped.

The room fell into dead silence, the air thick with fear.

Mary instantly dropped her mask of arrogance and assumed a weak, innocent expression.

My mother forced a gentle, welcoming smile, while my father straightened up and tried to look harmless.

He opened the door slowly.

There, standing tall and imposing in the doorway, was Wallace.

He was dressed in a tailored black suit, his face expressionless. Behind him stood a row of bodyguards like shadows, ready to strike.

His eyes scanned the room, cold and razor-sharp.

Then his gaze landed on Mary.

And it didnt move.

Marys eyes reddened instantly, and she called out in a trembling voice,

Wallace

But Wallace didnt move. He didnt speak. His eyes, cold and unreadable, remained fixed on her.

Sensing the silence, my father quickly stepped forward, hands rubbing together nervously as he forced a smile.

Mr. Jacobson, when we found your wife, she was unconscious by the roadside. We were worried something might happen to her, so we brought her home.

He chuckled awkwardly.

Luckily, we saw the newsor we wouldnt have realized she was Mrs. Jacobson.

My mother chimed in eagerly, her smile stiff.

Yes, it was pure luck we crossed paths. If not, who knows what terrible things mightve happened to her out there alone.

Wallaces gaze didnt waver from Mary. His eyes narrowed, scanning every inch of her face like a hawk dissecting prey.

Then, slowly, he turned to my parents and asked in a low, cold voice,

Youre sure this is my wife?

His expression was unreadable. But the chill in his tone sent a tremor down my spine.

Still blind to the danger, my parents laughed nervously, mistaking his quietness for confusion.

Of course! my father said quickly.

Yes, just look at her temperament and features, my mother added. Even when she was unconscious, she kept murmuring your name. Isnt that right?

There was a long pause.

Then Wallace raised his hand.

Without a word, a pair of bodyguards stepped forward, wheeling in a stretcher covered with a white sheet.

The room fell into dead silence.

With a flick of his wrist, Wallace pulled back the cloth.

Gasps filled the air.

Lying on the stretcher was a womans lifeless bodybloodied, bruised, and clearly tortured beyond recognition. But despite the horror of it, I recognized her instantly.

Veronica. Mrs. Jacobson.

Even in death, her features held a tragic elegance.

Mary staggered back, her face drained of all color.

Then Wallace finally spoke, his voice low but deafening.

If she is my wife he said, his eyes locked on Mary, then who is this?