Chapter 2

Not long after, Douglas Henson's call came through.

The ruthless look on their faces from my last life, the moment they shoved me out to die, still hung in front of my eyes.

I had known since I was small that they didn't like me. In this house, every scrap of affection belonged to my adopted sister, Lucia.

And me, I only had to do one thing wrong to earn cold looks and the sting of a rod.

I told myself it was the strict grooming an heir to Henson Group had to endure, that all of it was the duty and the tempering that came with being the Henson daughter.

It wasn't until the last moment before I died that I understood I had spent my whole life as a puppet on their strings, and the family bond I'd treasured was only ever a joke to them.

All because I wasn't their real daughter.

My hand shook as I answered, and the familiar cursing poured out of the receiver.

"Edna Henson, what do you think you're doing! Your mother's in the hospital and you can't even show your face? What, you think you can use the company as an excuse and forget everything your mother and I did to raise you!"

Before, they'd been afraid I was an ingrate who could never be tamed, so they used family duty to press me down at every turn.

On their birthdays I had to kneel and kowtow in gratitude. At meals I had to invite them to the table three times before they'd sit.

Hearing the old, familiar blame, I couldn't help a small laugh.

Plenty of the old staff at the company were his people. I'd halted partnerships on that scale, and there was no way he hadn't caught wind of it.

But he didn't mention that "big deal" at all. Instead he leaned on my mother's fake illness to put pressure on me.

"I know, Dad. Things are a mess at the company right now. When I have a free moment I'll go see Mom at the hospital. Let Lucia stay with her for now."

"By tomorrow at the latest, you go to that hospital and see your mother!"

The line went dead, and I looked at the phone and smiled.

Even when I said to his face that the company was in chaos, he didn't ask a single question.

Right now he'd love nothing more than for me to blow something up at the company, so he'd have a clean excuse to push me out of the Hensons. But I had no intention of giving him what he wanted.

I reached the head of Fox Pharmaceuticals and told him I wanted to invest.

"We're only a small company, and what we research isn't something anyone believes in. Besides, investing in something like a serum, does your head of the firm really not need to get his head checked?"

Maybe they'd been mocked one too many times, because his words came out sharp.

"You can think my head's broken if you like, whatever you want. I can put all my capital into you. But I have conditions. I need you to mass-produce the serum to the fullest extent, build a fortified shelter, and stockpile as many supplies as possible."

After hearing my conditions, he was silent for a long time, and in the end he agreed.

Maybe he took me for some rich heiress out to amuse herself at their expense, but I didn't care.

Once the apocalypse came, everyone would think only of staying alive. No one would spare a thought for details this small.