Reborn to Ruin My Fate-Stealing Nanny Chapter 2

I slipped away from David and locked myself in my private study.

I pulled up a popular social media app, and just as I suspected, Martha was live streaming.

In my past life, she had built an audience by vlogging her "humble" life working for a billionaire family. Her hook was a "Thirty Day Reverse Aging Challenge." She claimed she was going to copy her wealthy boss's routine to transform from forty back to twenty.

The comment section had been a bloodbath of mockery.

[Lady, you need a whole new genetic code, not a skincare routine.]

[If you can look twenty in a month, I can go back to kindergarten.]

When I first saw the stream in my past life, I brushed it off. I figured she was just trying to hustle for some extra ad revenue.

But then her face actually started morphing. She shed decades in real time.

Her follower count exploded into the hundreds of thousands. People were obsessed, begging for her secret.

Internet sleuths eventually figured out she worked for me and David.

By that point, I looked like a rotting corpse. But I was the CEO of Woods Cosmetics. I had pre scheduled corporate galas and shareholder meetings I couldn't abandon.

The internet put my red carpet photos side by side with Martha's livestreams.

[Holy hell. Is she copying the billionaire's routine, or is she literally sucking the youth out of her?]

[Wait, the Woods heiress used to be gorgeous. Her face single handedly pumped their stock prices. What the hell happened to her?]

Since my family's empire was built on beauty and wellness, seeing the CEO look like a swamp witch caused our stock to plummet overnight.

Right now, sitting in my study, I watched her hold up the expensive creams she had just fished out of my trash. She bragged to the camera that her generous boss had gifted them to her. Then she officially launched her thirty day challenge.

A chilling realization locked the breath in my throat. From the day she moved in to the day I died in my past life, it had been exactly thirty days.

I created a burner account and typed into the chaotic chat.

[Thirty days is impossible. Do you have some kind of dark magic going on? Tell me your secret. Name your price.]

On screen, Martha offered a coy, sinister little smile as she patted the stolen lotion into her cheeks.

"No dark magic here, honey. I just copy exactly what my boss does. Sincerity brings miracles."

In that exact second, my cheeks began to itch. I pulled out my compact mirror. More age spots.

The delicate, carefully maintained skin around my eyes suddenly felt dry and crinkled.

I whipped my head back to the screen. Martha's skin was practically glowing with renewed hydration.

[Am I tripping, or did her skin just clear up?]

[Bro, her dark spots are fading. The crow's feet are literally gone.]

[It's definitely a beauty filter.]

Martha aggressively leaned her face right into the camera lens. "No filters here, sweeties. Bare faced and proud."

Staring at her, a profound wave of nausea washed over me. It was an exchange. A literal transaction of flesh and time. She was swapping her decay for my youth.

Then a wild, desperate thought struck me.

What if I stopped taking care of myself? What if I actively destroyed my own body?

Could she steal from an empty vault?

For the next few days, I scrubbed my face with harsh, chemical heavy acids until my skin was raw and inflamed. I completely abandoned my treadmill and gorged on deep fried junk food and heavy sugar. My waistline expanded aggressively.

I watched Martha like a hawk.

But to my absolute despair, the results were identical to my past life. She kept getting hotter. Younger.

My ruined skin and rapidly accumulating fat didn't transfer to her at all. The curse only took the good and left me with the bad.

David returned from a business trip and physically recoiled when I greeted him in the hallway. His face contorted in pure disgust.

"Victoria, what the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped. "The Pierce Holdings anniversary gala is in a few days. If you look like this, don't even bother showing up. I won't have you embarrassing my family."

Martha hovered in the background, the corners of her lips twitching upward before she slapped on a mask of fake concern. "Ma'am, maybe you should book a dermatologist appointment?"

"And all that junk food you've been eating is making Mr. Pierce so upset," she added in a sickly sweet tone. "If a woman loses her face and her figure, how is she supposed to keep her man happy?"

I let out a low, humorless chuckle. I turned on my heel, walked back into my study, and dialed my executive assistant.

"Cancel all my public appearances for the month. And I need you to run a deep background check on someone."