Reclaiming My Body And My Billionaire

Three years ago, an accident took my life. Or rather, it should have. Instead, a soul from another world hijacked my body to perform some ridiculous favorability mission.

She failed. Miserably.

It took every ounce of my will to bargain with the new System overseer to claw my way back. I traded everything for a single chance to reclaim what was mine.

The Systems mechanical voice echoed in the hollows of my mind: [Host, you must successfully conquer the target, Zack Blackwood, within 30 days.]

Then came the cold ultimatum: [Failure to complete the mission within the allotted time will result in permanent erasure.]

I tightened my fists, glaring at the translucent blue interface only I could see.

"This is a joke," I hissed, my voice rasping. "That interloper spent three years turning my body into a two-hundred-pound disaster. Forget Zack Blackwoodat this point, a blind man wouldn't look at me twice, let alone an elite CEO."

The System seemed to falter, a momentary glitch in its processing. [Well...] it paused, searching for a logical out. [Perhaps Zack Blackwood prefers a... more substantial presence?]

...

I let out a harsh, dry laugh as I faced the full-length mirror.

My thighs were like pillars. My midsection looked like I was wearing a permanent life buoy. Two hundred pounds of soft, neglected weight.

That brain-dead transmigrator had abandoned my company, ignored my legacy, and spent every waking hour playing the part of Zacks pathetic, groveling lapdog. When she realized her "mission" was going nowhere, she gave up entirely, drowning her sorrows in grease and sugar.

She had taken my supermodel framethe body I had spent years honing with Pilates and disciplineand turned it into a mountain of grease.

Looking at the mirror, seeing that I barely fit in the frame, I felt a wave of existential dread.

"No more sugar. No more carbs," I muttered. "Im welding myself to the treadmill."

[That is wise, Host. This System will assist in your weight loss. After all, conventional data suggests men prefer a leaner aesthetic. It will aid the mission.]

"Shut up," I snapped.

I started the treadmill, the belt groaning under the unfamiliar weight. As I felt the first beads of sweat break across my skin and the agonizing tremor of my muscles, I gritted my teeth.

"Whether I 'conquer' him or not, I refuse to spend another second trapped in this version of myself. And another thingwhy did that idiot get three years while I only get thirty days? Is your software refurbished or just cheap?"

The System bristled. [Host! This unit has been ranked number one in the Central Bureau for three consecutive months!]

I suspected it was lying, but I didn't have the energy to argue.

I hadn't even finished five miles when my secretarys name flashed on my phone. A crisis at the office.

I showered quickly and moved to the walk-in closet. The moment I slid the doors open, I nearly had a stroke. Neon pink lace dresses. Tight, leopard-print spandex leggings.

What kind of deranged, tacky aesthetic had that girl been sporting?

Resisting the urge to set the entire wardrobe on fire, I settled for an oversized black tracksuitthe only thing that didn't make me look like a burst sausageand headed straight for the company.

In the back of the car, I scrolled through the archived chats. Every single message was a masterclass in desperation.

[Zack, are you tired at work? Did you eat lunch?]

[Zack, its okay if you dont reply. Ill always be right here waiting for you.]

It wasn't just the words. She had attached "cutesy" selfies to every single text. I felt a surge of nausea so violent I had to look away. At least she had stopped the photos after shed put on the weight, or I might have thrown the phone out the window.

When I stepped into the Rossi & Co. headquarters, the lobby went silent.

The staff looked at me with a mix of pity and suppressed laughter. For three years, that waste of space hadn't set foot in the building. Shed forgotten where the entrance was, let alone how to read a balance sheet. The fact that the company hadn't folded was a testament to the sheer grit of my senior VPs.

I ignored the stares and threw open the boardroom doors.

One look at the disastrous financial reports and the veins in my forehead began to throb. I spent the morning like a hurricane, firing two executives who had been cooking the books within the first hour. By noon, the whispers of ridicule in the halls had shifted back into the terrified, reverent silence I remembered.

The System chimed in, opportunistic as ever.

[Host! Reclaiming the company is fine, but Zack Blackwood is the priority! You have 27 days left before total erasure.]

[First Sub-Mission: Straighten Zacks tie. Reward: One 'Metabolic-Accelerant' pill.]

"That's it? That's the mission?" I asked, skeptical.

[Host, do not be deceived. The previous occupant failed this simple task for three years straight.]

I paused, surprised.

[Zack Blackwood is notoriously untouchable. Despite being married to the previous occupant for three years, he never allowed her within three feet of his person. Their marriage has been entirely in name only.]

A strange, sharp spark of satisfaction flickered in my chest. So, my old protege had kept his standards high. Good for him.

"Fine. I'll take the mission."

[Excellent! Let us go find him immediately!] the System chirped.

"Not yet. I have a company to stabilize first."

Conquering Zack was a matter of survival, but I wasn't like the girl who came before me. I wasn't going to set my empire on fire just to warm a mans hands.

The System went quiet, sounding distinctly disappointed.

I worked until nine in the evening before finally heading back to the villa. To my surprise, the lights in the living room were on.

I stopped in the doorway, taking in the man sitting on the sofa. His charcoal-gray suit was impeccable, draped over a frame that had grown broader and more imposing in my absence. Three years hadn't aged him; they had simply polished him into something lethal and expensive.

The moment he heard me, he stood up. For a split second, I saw a flickera shimmering ghost of a look in his eyesbefore he masked it.

"You went to the office today," he said. His voice was like a low cello note, vibrating with something that sounded suspiciously like a tremor.

I didn't answer. I walked straight up to him.

I reached out and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him slightly forward as I smoothed the silk of his tie. Zack froze. He didn't pull away, but he went rigid, his breath hitching in his throat.

The System began to scream in my head.

[WAHHH!! Host, you did it! Mission accomplished in one move!]

[But be careful! Records show the target prefers gentle, domestic women. Don't break character!]

I took a deep breath, swallowing the sharp, sarcastic retort that was already on the tip of my tongue. For the sake of my life, I could play nice. Just for a moment.

I forced a smileone I hoped looked soft but probably looked like I was baring my teethand pitched my voice into a breathy, feminine lilt.

Zac, darling... I just wanted to see how things were going at the firm."

The silence that followed was so thick it felt like the air had turned to lead.

The light in Zacks eyes vanished instantly. He looked at me with a cold, piercing detachment, seasoned with a heavy dose of disappointment.

"Don't do things that don't suit you," he said, his voice flat.

He stepped back, breaking my hold and creating a vast, chilly distance between us.

"I have work at the office. I won't be back tonight."

He turned on his heel and walked out without a second glance.

I stood in the middle of the room, fuming, while the System wailed.

[What happened?! It was going so well! Why did his face turn like that?]

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. "Because you told me to act like a 'gentle' idiot. He was probably repulsed."

I collapsed onto the sofa, the plush velvet straining under me.

Memories of the old Zack surfaced unbidden. In high school, he hadn't been this untouchable titan. He had been the "bastard son" of the Blackwood family, the one his half-brothers used to kick into the dirt behind the gym.

I had picked him up because he had a face that belonged in a museum and eyes that looked like they could burn the world down if someone gave him a match. I made him mine. I made him my shadow.

Back then, I was the only one allowed to bully him.

I remembered making him walk across the city in a blizzard just to get me a specific brand of hot chocolate. I remembered making him kneel in front of the entire student body to tie my loose shoelaces. He had been a silent, loyal dog, never once flinching, never once complaining.

Who would have thought that after graduation, his brothers would meet their ends in a "tragic accident"? He had been plucked from the shadows and made the sole heir to the Blackwood fortune. And when my parents died, and I needed a strategic alliance to save the company, I chose him.

Now the tables had turned. I was the one who had to play nice? The thought made my blood boil.

I swallowed the Metabolic pill the System awarded me and headed for the treadmill.

The next morning, the scale showed a ten-pound drop. The Systems tech was apparently more reliable than its romantic advice. I was still a "substantial presence," but I could breathe a little easier.

I went back to the office and spent the day tearing through the restructuring. The System, unable to help itself, popped up again.

[Second Sub-Mission: Deliver a 'Meal of Love' to Zack Blackwood. Reward: One 'Metabolic-Accelerant' pill.]

"Busy. I have a board meeting."

I had three days to complete the mission. I decided to let Zack stew for two.

In those forty-eight hours, fueled by a murderous workout regime and the lingering effects of the Systems pill, I dropped another twenty pounds. By the third day, the Systems countdown was driving me insane.

[Life span: 27 days! Deliver the food NOW or face the consequences!!!]

"Fine! Stop nagging."

I picked up a high-end takeout container from the most exclusive bistro in the citythe kind where you need a three-month reservationand headed to the Blackwood Building.

Even thirty pounds down, I felt like a tank moving through the sleek, minimalist lobby. I could hear the whispers as I passed.

"Shes here again? God, give it a rest."

"Two hundred pounds of desperation in a tracksuit. If I were Mr. Blackwood, Id lose my appetite too..."

I stopped.

My gaze swept over the cluster of receptionists like a cold blade. I looked them dead in the eye.

"Is Blackwood Industries paying you to provide a lunch-hour commentary, or are you just naturally this unprofessional?"

They turned pale, scurrying back to their monitors. I wasn't in the mood to swallow insults today.

[Host! Calm down! They don't matter! Remember: Be gentle when you see Zack!]

"I know!" I hissed.

I shoved open the door to the penthouse office. Zack was behind a desk that probably cost more than a suburban house. He didn't even look up at first.

"What do you want?" Cold. Harder than the Systems voice.

I set the bag on his desk, forcing a pleasant expression. "Zack, I brought you lunch."

Zacks eyes flicked to the bag. His face darkened instantly. With a sudden, violent motion, he swept his arm across the desk.

CRASH.

The expensive meal hit the trash can with a wet thud.

"I hate that place," he said. His voice wasn't just cold now; it was lethal.

I stood there, my hands curling into fists. You ungrateful little...

Back in school, I was the one who made sure he ate. He used to eat the scraps I gave him in the corner with tears in his eyes. Now he was too good for the best bistro in the city?

[AHHH! Host! I told you to cook it yourself!] the System shrieked. [The previous occupants cooking was terrible, but he never threw it away! Look at what you've done!]

I don't cook, I snapped back internally.

That bistro had been my favorite place. Back in the day, I used to make Zack stand in line for an hour to get me their signature tartare.

Looking at the trash can, it clicked. He didn't hate the restaurant. He hated that I was bringing him something the real me loved. He thought it was a sick joke.

"Stop this," Zack said, looking up at me, his eyes full of warning. "We agreed to a marriage of convenience. Stay on your side of the line."

[Host! Say something sweet! Fix it!]

Sweet? There isn't a sweet bone in Diana Rossis body.

"A marriage of convenience, right." I let out a sharp, jagged laugh, suppressing the weird ache in my chest. "I was just checking the 'Dutiful Wife' box on my way to a real meeting. Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Blackwood."

I turned and slammed the door behind me.

[You're insane! You can't talk to him like that!] the System wailed. [No man likes a woman with a temper like yours! You're going to fail!]

"Shut up and give me my reward."

[But you made him angry]

"The mission was to deliver the meal. I delivered it. Give. Me. The. Pill."

I swallowed the second pill. Between that and the grueling hours at the gym, I lost another twenty pounds over the next two days. My face was starting to emerge from the puffinessthe sharp line of my jaw, the high set of my cheekbones. I was still "big," but I was starting to look like a version of myself again.

[New Mission: Create a grand birthday surprise for the target!]

I rolled my eyes. A birthday surprise? Id never thrown a party for anyone but myself.

I delegated the entire thing to the house staff.

That evening, the villa was transformed into something out of a Pinterest nightmare. Balloons, flowers, a three-tier cake. I even found his bedroom covered in rose petals.

It was the first time Id stepped into his private suite.

On his nightstand sat a framed photo. I froze. It was a photo of me from high school. I didn't even know it existedit was a candid shot, taken from a distance.

I glanced at a half-open drawer and saw a flash of color. A deep burgundy silk ribbon. My favorite hair tie from years ago.

I pulled the drawer open fully. My breath caught.

Next to the ribbon was a stack of photos. All of them were me. Me sleeping on a desk in senior year. Me laughing on the university track. Me, me, me.

He had been stalking me for years.

I moved to the closet. One side was filled with his suits. The other side? It was filled with my old clothes. The ones from before the accident.

A strange, heavy emotion settled in my throat. I dialed his number.

"You need to come home. Now."

There was a five-second silence. Then, a clipped, "Fine."

I couldn't fit into those old clothes yet, so I just took my old silk ribbon. I needed to confront him about the photos.

But ten o'clock came and went.

The food grew cold. The candles on the cake melted into stubs. Not a soul came through the door.

[Don't be sad, Host. Hes probably just stuck in a meeting. Call him again?] the System whispered.

"Waste of my time," I snapped.

I tore off the restrictive floral dress Id forced myself into. I put on my gym geara sports bra and leggingsand tied my hair up high with that burgundy ribbon.

If he wasn't coming, I wasn't going to waste the night. I still had three miles to run.

I ignored the Systems nagging, put on my noise-canceling headphones, and cranked the treadmill to a sprint. I let myself drown in the music and the burn of my muscles.

Suddenly, a hand yanked my hair from behind.

The ribbon was torn away. My hair tumbled down. At that speed, I lost my balance instantly. I gasped, stumbling back, waiting for the impact of the floor.

It never came.

I slammed into a solid, warm chest.

Zack caught me, but he didn't hold me. The second I was stable, he shoved me away like I was radioactive.

I staggered, catching my breath, ready to tear his head off. But when I looked up, I saw his eyes. They were bloodshot. His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.

He was clutching the burgundy ribbon in a white-knuckled grip.

"I warned you," he hissed, his voice trembling with fury. "Stay. Out. Of. My. Room."

In that moment, every ounce of "playing nice" evaporated. Everything the System told me about being gentle went out the window.

I have spent my entire life as the sun that everyone else revolved around. No oneno oneshouts at me. No one lays a hand on me. And especially not the boy who used to follow me around like a shadow.

My body moved faster than my brain.

I lunged forward and snatched the ribbon back out of his hand. I shoved my finger into his chest.

"Zack Blackwood! Who the hell do you think youre talking to? This is my house! This is my ribbon! You have no right to tell me which room I can or cannot enter!"

Zack stood frozen, stunned. "You..."

I wasn't finished. I was tired, I was hungry, and I was done being pushed around. I hauled off and kicked himhardright in the shin.

"OW!"

His six-foot-two frame buckled. He groaned, doubled over, his face turning a ghostly shade of pale.

Oh. Oops.

I might have aimed a little... high.

Zack looked up at me, his eyes watery and red. I couldn't tell if it was from the pain or something else.