She fell to the ground, scrambling to get back up. She seemed ready to strike again, but after glaring at me for a moment, she suddenly started laughing.

“Well, I guess there’s no point in arguing with someone like you, who can’t even keep her own husband,” she sneered. “If you know you can’t compete with me, you should step aside and know your place. The person who isn’t loved is considered the third wheel!”

I smiled faintly.

“The more someone lacks something, the more they flaunt it. You stressing that you’re not a third wheel really proves that point.” I shot her a sharp look. “Are you really that sensitive about being the mistress? You’ve already done something so disgraceful, and yet you feel ashamed about it?”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect me. Instead, my words hit her hard, and I could see her face flush with anger.

“I’m not a mistress!” she snapped. “We’re together because we love each other! You’re the one who’s messing things up—you’re the third wheel here!”

I gave her a disdainful smile and was about to deliver another sharp remark when, unexpectedly, a glowing screen appeared before me.

The screen flickered, and rows of words appeared.

[Camilla Woods, 29 years old, divorced, no children. She was Declan’s first girlfriend, who later broke up with him because of his financial struggles. Her previous husband was a well-known entrepreneur from a neighboring city. They lived together for five years. After the company collapsed and her husband went bankrupt, Camilla divorced him and was left with debts.]

I quickly scanned the details on the screen, still unsure of what to make of it, before looking at her with a skeptical glance.

“Camilla? Just divorced and bankrupt last year? You really came back for Declan just because you love him?”

I fired off a series of questions. The woman, who had been seething with rage only a moment ago, suddenly shifted into a cold, controlled silence.

She glared at me, gritted her teeth, and venomously spat, “Declan’s right. You’re a filthy piece of work for sneaking around and investigating me. But so what? Declan and I love each other, and nothing you do can change that!”

With that, she turned and walked off quickly.

I glanced at the glowing screen again, then at her retreating figure. I knew then: The screen was something only I could see, and everything on it was true.

Her claims of mutual love were complete nonsense. She wasn’t after Declan; she was just interested in the company he and I had built together.

For the past four years—two years dating and two married—Declan and I had been building our business. We had struggled through thick and thin, and just this year, our company had finally started to hit its stride, with revenues crossing the 10-million mark.

What a “true love” she had—coming back only when our company became successful!

Just as I was thinking this, the screen flickered again, revealing two new lines of text.

[The soul-swap system has been activated. You may designate two individuals to swap souls.

[Available subjects: Declan, Camilla. Do you wish to swap their souls? Yes. No.]

I couldn’t wait to see what would happen once the “dream girl” got a taste of Declan’s life—his body, his wealth. I’d love to see if she still believed in “true love” then.

After confirming the swap, the system activated it the next day, with the screen showing real-time footage of the soul swap taking place.

When they both woke up in each other’s bodies on the large hotel bed, they were both shocked.

Declan, now in Camilla’s body, slapped himself hard, trying to snap out of it.

“How could I have such a weird dream? Wake up!” he muttered, but it was no use.

A slap rang out loudly, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

Camilla, still stunned in Declan’s body, frowned upon seeing this.

“Are you insane? Why are you hitting me?”

She stepped forward, slapping Declan in return. But once she did, she realized her mistake and quickly tried to slap herself.

Declan, now with both cheeks swelling, grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Stop… don’t hit me again. This isn’t a dream. It’s real. Our bodies have really swapped.”

Camilla, still skeptical, pinched herself in her new body. The pain made her yelp, confirming it was real.

“Wh-what is going on? How did this happen?”

While Camilla was panicking, Declan seemed more composed, muttering to himself, “We only just got together, and she found out about us… Now this? She must be behind it!”

With that, Declan grabbed his phone off the nightstand, about to make a call.

Before he could, Camilla snatched the phone from him and handed him the one that had originally belonged to her.

“Use your own phone. Mine doesn’t have her contact info,” she said nonchalantly, holding her phone to herself as she sat on the couch.

Declan gave her a suspicious look before dialing my number.