I Let Her Crash Into the Billionaire

After graduating from a high society etiquette school, my younger sister swore she was going to marry into a billionaire family.

To orchestrate a chance encounter, she drove my brand new car, intending to intentionally rear end the vehicle of Liam Thorne, the notoriously elusive heir of the southern business district.

I slammed on the brakes just in time. I told her the Thorne family were not idiots, and that even if we sold everything we owned, we couldn't afford to pay for the damage to that car.

Later, Liam hosted a lavish wedding that made national headlines.

My sister went completely insane with jealousy. She screamed that if I hadn't stopped her that day, she would have been the bride.

Consumed by resentment, she ran me over with a car and killed me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting in the passenger seat.

My sister, Chloe, curled her lips into a confident smirk, her eyes locked onto the supercar driving just ahead of us.

"As soon as he sees me, Liam is going to fall head over heels."

"Once that happens, I'll never have to drive a piece of trash car like this again."

This time, I didn't stop her.

She slammed her foot on the gas.

Our car violently crashed into the back of the fifty million dollar hypercar.

1.

Under the massive impact, the hypercar skidded forward quite a distance before finally grinding to a halt.

The deafening crash drew a crowd of pedestrians who stopped to watch the spectacle.

The hypercar was severely damaged. The rear wing had snapped off completely, and the carbon fiber body was deeply caved in.

Chloe didn't care about any of that.

She recovered from the shock of the impact instantly and immediately flipped down the sun visor to adjust her makeup in the mirror.

She deliberately messed up her bangs, rubbed her eyes until they watered, and made sure her lipstick looked perfectly smudged.

If I hadn't watched the whole thing happen, I would have thought she was just a terrified, innocent little bunny.

Pulling her gaze away from the mirror, Chloe shot a glance at me.

Seeing me sitting perfectly still, completely unfazed, a flash of genuine surprise crossed her face.

She had purposefully stuffed two thick throw pillows between her chest and the steering wheel to cushion her impact. Then, she had accelerated suddenly, hoping to catch me off guard.

If I hadn't been prepared and gripped the grab handle tightly, my face would have smashed right into the dashboard, leaving me with a bloody nose and a swollen face.

She had been exactly like this since we were kidsconstantly setting traps to make me look awkward and ugly, just to highlight her own delicate beauty.

"Liam rarely makes public appearances. Just follow my lead and don't ruin this for me."

Chloe dabbed some heavy concealer on her finger and forcefully smeared it over my lips without asking.

"Once I become Mrs. Thorne, I'll hire you as a maid at the estate. The pay will be way better than whatever you're making now."

With that, Chloe pulled down the neckline of her tight knit top and pushed the car door open.

In our past life, Chloe was convinced that I had derailed her path to the elite. She blamed me for the miserable, pathetic life she ended up living.

In this life, I wanted to see if her little tricks could actually change her destiny.

Chloe's exit from the car immediately caused a stir. Several guys on the sidewalk pulled out their phones to take pictures of her.

She had always been incredibly proud of her figure, and the skin tight pencil skirt she wore naturally drew a lot of stares.

Liam didn't step out. Instead, a driver in a sharp, tailored suit got out and walked a full circle around the damaged hypercar.

He walked up to the tinted rear window, bent down, and spoke to Liam.

Chloe completely ignored the driver who was trying to talk to her and walked straight up to the rear passenger window, tapping on the glass.

She wiped tears from her eyes as she spoke. The wind blew her long black hair around her face, making her look incredibly fragile and broken.

A moment later, Liam pushed the car door open. He briefly glanced toward our wrecked car.

Then, his gaze landed entirely on Chloe.

The legendary heir was notoriously secretive and low profile. Dozens of A list actresses had tried to throw themselves at him, but none could even find an opportunity.

Chloe lowered her head, nervously twisting her perfectly manicured hands together.

Then, acting as if she had just made a massive, agonizing decision, she pulled out her phone to call the traffic police.

I saw Liam wave his hand, gesturing for her to put the phone away.

He stepped out and walked toward my car.

Chloe had smeared dead white concealer all over my lips. Combined with the fact that I had been working overtime for a straight week, I must have looked completely drained of blood, like a walking corpse.

Through the windshield, I got my first close up look at Liam.

It was August, yet he was wearing a silk scarf tightly wrapped around his neck.

A jagged, angry scar snaked up from beneath the scarf, trailing all the way up to his left cheekbone.

Despite obvious, expensive reconstructive surgery, the skin was still uneven and deeply pitted, showing just how horrific the original wound must have been.

Chloe hurried over, her voice dripping with frantic worry.

"My sister suddenly got terrible stomach cramps! I was rushing to get her to the ER, and I accidentally mixed up the gas and the brake, so..."

"But no matter what, this is completely my fault. I promise I will compensate you for all the damage."

This performance seemed to actually affect Liam. The freezing cold expression on his face softened slightly, and he told her calmly that there was no need to panic.

"Take your sister to the hospital first."

"My driver, Arthur, will handle the insurance and the paperwork later."

Just as Liam turned to leave, Chloe anxiously stepped in front of him, offering him a sleek business card.

"This is my contact info. I won't run away from my responsibility."

Liam looked down at the white card in her hand.

It listed Chloe as a "Partner at a Luxury Pet Hospital" and a "Guest Lecturer at the South River Tourism Academy."

He looked Chloe up and down, a slow, intense gaze, before finally pulling out his own phone.

"Let's not make it complicated. Just add my number."

Liam left in a Maybach that arrived to pick him up, while a tow truck hauled away the ruined hypercar.

The hood of my car was completely crushed, and one of the headlights was shattered.

"I literally just bought this car yesterday. What are you going to do about this?" I asked.

Chloe ignored me the entire ride home. The second we walked through the door, she hooked her arm through our dad's, whining that I was bullying her.

Our dad, Richard, patted Chloe's hand affectionately, then turned to me and told me to deal with it myself.

"You're making a huge deal out of nothing with your sister. You don't act like an older sister at all."

This morning, Chloe had insisted on driving. She didn't even have a driver's license. She had failed her road test five times.

Richard was so worried about her safety that he forced me to ride shotgun.

My stepmother, Brenda, walked out of the kitchen carrying a fruit platter. There were only three forks on it.

The three of them sat around eating mangoes and watermelon, laughing together as if I didn't even exist in the room.

"Liam stared right at me. He didn't even blink. I thought this untouchable billionaire heir was going to be so hard to handle, but it turns out he's just like every other man."

Chloe pulled out her phone, proudly showing off Liam's contact info.

"Once Chloe marries Liam, we'll officially be family with the billionaires."

Brenda clapped her hands in excitement, and Richard immediately joined in on the delusional daydream.

Then, Chloe suddenly changed her tone. She picked up a piece of fruit on a fork and fed it to Richard.

"Dad... I still owe thirty grand for my etiquette classes."

Richard's brow furrowed. He didn't agree immediately.

Our entire family survived off the income from a few small storefronts on the old side of town. But in recent years, city developers had bypassed the old district, and business had been terrible.

That ridiculous "high society etiquette school" charged fifty grand a person, promising to teach women how to cross social classes and marry the ultra rich.

Chloe had graduated from a community college three years ago. Since then, she had spent all her time getting cosmetic procedures, traveling to take fake lifestyle photos to build her "socialite" persona, and had never worked a single day.

The initial twenty grand deposit had already completely drained Richard's savings.

"Richard, Chloe took those classes so that you can live a life of luxury in your old age!"

Brenda pushed a gaudy gold bracelet up her wrist and spoke without a shred of shame.

"If you can't even front this little bit of money, don't expect to ride her coattails when she makes it big."

"Besides, someone else in this house has a job. Family is supposed to help each other out."

She was glaring right at me, demanding I pay the bill.

In my past life, fueling Chloe's billionaire dreams had buried the family in massive debt. Debt collectors had shown up at my office, screaming and causing a scene, which eventually got me fired.

On top of that, they clearly had absolutely no idea what kind of car Liam was driving. They were utterly convinced he was just going to let Chloe off the hook because she was pretty.

I was not going to follow them down the drain, pinning my survival on a delusional gold digging fantasy.

So, before they could even ask, I announced I was moving out.

"I've already found an apartment. I'll be transferring my legal residency out of this house too."

Brenda clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes. She sneered, saying I was just jealous that Chloe was going to be a billionaire's wife.

"The most important thing for a woman is a beautiful face so she can marry a rich man."

"It doesn't matter how jealous you are, Maya. You'll never be her."

"With your pathetic little salary, you think you can afford to move out? That is hilarious."

My phone buzzed. A coworker texted me about an emergency meeting.

I went to my room, packed up some documents, and got ready to head back to the office.

Chloe didn't hold back, laughing loudly. She said I was worrying over nothing, that I only made three grand a month, and that I could work myself to death and still not be worth one of her manicured fingers.

Richard looked at me with absolute condescension.

"Maya, you need to start sucking up to your sister right now."

"If Chloe is in a good mood, she might just buy you a condo, and you won't have to go rent some dump."

Chloe put on a magnanimous, fake smile, waiting for me to bow down and beg.

I tightened my grip on my files, my eyes sweeping over the three of them.

"Liam's money is not Chloe's money. But the money I earn will always be mine."

"Being beautiful is definitely an advantage. But if you have absolutely nothing else in your brain except beauty, it's a disaster waiting to happen."

"You guys really might want to look up exactly what kind of car Liam was driving today."

The emergency meeting at my firm was regarding the "Clear Creek Resort Town," a massive joint venture project.

Liam's family company was handling the development and construction, while my agency, Apex Media, was handling the marketing and public relations.

I had been recruited by Apex straight out of college five years ago. As one of the top global advertising agencies, the workload at Apex was brutal, but the pay was top tier.

However, I had told my family that I was just a bottom tier assistant making three grand a month.

Brenda and Chloe naturally looked down on me, so they believed it without a second thought.

After reviewing the current timeline, our creative director spoke very seriously.

"The client side project lead has been switched to Liam. This is the first major project he's taking full control over as the official heir."

He then explained that Liam was highly dissatisfied with our current marketing proposals.

We had to draft two brand new backup campaigns and present them to Liam directly in two weeks.

"The heir is incredibly detail oriented and strict. He also slashed the marketing budget considerably. Everyone needs to step up and bring their A game."

After the meeting, some coworkers gathered in the breakroom, gossiping about the billionaire family.

"I heard Liam was severely disfigured when he was a kid, which is why he hates public appearances."

"Disfigured? Who would dare do that to him?"

"No idea. My mom used to be a journalist, and she caught a photo of him being rushed to the hospital years ago. Her editor forced her to delete everything."

"Those ultra rich families are brutal. There's so much dark stuff. His older sister's death was super sketchy too. What kind of little girl wanders down to the ocean in the middle of the night by herself?"

"The old man had three wives and four sons. Liam is the youngest, yet he managed to crush his brothers and secure the heir position. The guy is absolutely ruthless."

"We just need to do our jobs perfectly. You heard the directorhe's impossible to please."

I drank my coffee, recalling the face I had seen through the car window today. Despite the heavy scarring, he still had striking, sharp features.

But the aura around him was suffocatingly dark and deep, like a whirlpool that pulled you in and crushed you.

He was absolutely not the kind of shallow, brainless man Chloe thought she could easily manipulate with a pretty face.

Out of habit, I opened Instagram and saw that Chloe had just posted a new carousel of photos.

She was wearing a full Chanel tweed suit, sipping red wine on the balcony of a luxury hotel, surrounded by massive bouquets of imported flowers.

In the background of the shot, there were two foreign men dressed like European aristocrats.

The caption read: "The Italian vineyard sent over another case of the '82 vintage. The aroma hits the palate perfectly, filling the senses with pure romance. Girls, you really need to stock up on high end investments like this."

What the photo didn't show was the ten other girls, completely covered in full glam makeup, standing just out of frame, waiting for their turn to take the exact same picture.

The etiquette school provided communal props for their studentsrented supercars, designer bags, fake jewelry, and hourly rentals of oceanfront penthouses.

The entire goal was to fabricate an image of a girl from an old money family with refined, impeccable taste.

Rich men who didn't know any better were easily lured in by the aesthetic.

Furthermore, to avoid looking like total gold diggers, the school taught them to fake having successful careers.

Chloe's titles of "Hospital Partner" and "Guest Lecturer" were completely fabricated by the agency.

My real estate broker sent me two new apartment listings to look at.

My savings over the last five years were more than enough for me to buy a nice two bedroom condo near the office in cash.

I needed to sever all ties with my family immediately before their mess dragged me down.

Three days later, the dashcam footage of Chloe crashing into the hypercar went viral on TikTok.

The comments were calling her a "once in a lifetime natural beauty."

People were comparing her to current A list celebrities, saying that if she entered Hollywood, half the actresses in the industry would be out of a job.

Right on cue, "leaked" screenshots of her Instagram photos started circulating, with comments hyping up her insane "old money wealth" and perfect taste.

With all this noise, it would be impossible for Liam not to notice her. Plus, going viral as a wealthy socialite was the perfect stepping stone to marrying into the elite.

I had to admit, the etiquette school really knew how to run a PR campaign.

After signing the closing papers for my new condo, I went back to the house to pack the rest of my things.

Brenda opened the door, gave me a look of pure disgust, and asked which slum I managed to rent a room in.

Richard didn't even look at me.

He was frantically hovering around Chloe, acting like he had just won a billion dollar lottery.

"It's Liam! Liam texted her first!"

"Miss Kitty said that as long as you make the man reach out first, you've basically won!"

Chloe closed her eyes, holding the phone to her chest, waiting a full ten seconds to play hard to get before finally opening the message.

The three of them stared at the screen. Nobody spoke for a long time.

I dropped my boxes, walked over, and glanced at her screen.

Liam's message read:

The vehicle must be shipped back to the headquarters in Sweden for repairs. Total cost: 8.57 million.

Below the text was a highly detailed, itemized repair invoice entirely in English.

"How is that even possible? How can fixing a car cost that much money?!"

Chloe zoomed in on the invoice, frantically counting the zeroes on the screen.

Brenda couldn't believe it either. She actually started wondering if the guy texting Chloe wasn't Liam at all, but some scammer trying to extort them.

Liam's hypercar was a Koenigsegg, imported from Sweden. The carbon fiber body was entirely hand built, and it was the only one of its kind in the entire country.

Because it was so rare, normal people didn't even recognize the logo.

Apex Media had done a brand partnership with Koenigsegg a few years ago, so I knew exactly what the sticker price was: fifty million.

For a hypercar of that caliber, an eight million dollar repair bill was completely standard. Plus, airfreighting it back to Sweden wasn't cheap either.

While they were still screaming about whether the bill was fake, Liam sent another message.

Payment is expected immediately.

That completely killed any chance of negotiation.

Panic finally set in. All the color drained from Chloe's face.

"He... he was supposed to ask me out to dinner. Why is he demanding repair money?"

"Where am I supposed to find eight million dollars?!"

She looked at Richard, her eyes wide with terror.

Richard finally remembered I was in the room. He quickly tried to calm her down, saying my car had insurance and the company would cover the damages.

"Standard liability insurance only covers up to three million in property damage. That's not even close to enough," I said, grabbing the handle of my suitcase and rolling it toward my bedroom.

"But I haven't even had time to buy comprehensive commercial insurance yet. The car only has the legal minimum coverage. That maxes out at two hundred thousand."

I took two steps, then tapped my forehead like I had just remembered something.

"Oh, right. Chloe doesn't have a driver's license. If you're driving without a license, the insurance company will void the claim entirely. They won't pay a single cent."

My bedroom was tiny. Aside from some handmade dolls my late mother had sewn for me, there was nothing worth taking.

As I tried to walk out the door, Brenda slammed her hand against the doorframe, blocking my path, glaring at me with venomous hatred.

"You're not going anywhere. That is your car. Even if he calls the cops, you're the one who has to pay the bill."

I knew she was going to say that.

I unzipped my purse and pulled out the vehicle registration title. Printed crystal clear in black ink was Chloe's name.

I actually had Richard to thank for this.

The day I went to the DMV to register the car, he shockingly offered to come with me.

When I went to the restroom, he swapped my ID paperwork with Chloe's, registering the car I bought with my own money entirely under her name.

Growing up, whenever something new came into the house, Chloe had to be the first one to use it.

Richard simply couldn't stand the idea of me owning a brand new car while his precious Chloe didn't have one.

Brenda completely lost her mind. She turned around and started punching and kicking Richard hysterically.

"You useless piece of trash! You ruined her! You ruined Chloe's life!"

"He's the heir to the biggest empire in the city! We can't run from this! He'll destroy us!"

Richard curled into a ball, not daring to fight back, stammering that he didn't know this would happen.

Chloe grabbed her hair and screamed, "Shut up!"

"I need to call Miss Kitty. She'll know what to do."

Miss Kitty was the headmistress of the etiquette school.

I had seen her once, leading a flock of different looking girls into a hyper exclusive private club.

Rumor had it Miss Kitty was heavily connected. Through her "guidance," several of her students had successfully married famous actors or old wealthy businessmen.

Chloe held the phone to her ear like it was her last lifeline, desperately waiting for an answer.

After a long pause, a sharp, aggressive woman's voice came through the speaker.

"Chloe, honey, it's not that I don't want to help you, but you still haven't paid your tuition balance."

"You wire me that thirty grand right now, and I will tell you exactly how to play this. I guarantee I can have the billionaire eating out of the palm of your hand."

Chloe frantically agreed, nodding at the wall.

While she was holding the phone, treating Miss Kitty like a god, I shoved past Brenda and walked out the front door without looking back.

They were beyond saving.

Two weeks later, I saw Liam again in the VIP conference room at my agency.

Under the bright, calculated boardroom lighting, his facial scars were barely noticeable.

What I absolutely did not expect was for Chloe to walk in right behind him.

She was wearing a tailored tweed blazer and nude stilettos, perfectly dressed in the "elegant corporate professional" aesthetic.

This must have been Miss Kitty's master plan.

I just wondered how Chloe managed to scrape together the thirty grand to pay for it.