Tiff_Lin

After fighting with her boss and vowing never to return, Aysel kept her word. Well, she died while trying to save a girl and was transmigrated into a novel world.

In her new life, she is a wealthy heiress and a popular celebrity. This made her excited at the thought that her dream of living like a salted fish was about to come true! However, reality slapped her in the face and pinched her awake.

Wealthy heiress? Her bank account is in the negative! She owes money to the bank!

Popular celebrity? The entire country hates her!

Aysel finally understands the phrase: "Out of the frying pan into the fire."

Now, she can’t even live in peace.

Well, maybe Heaven isn’t so cruel after all—at least she has a life-saving system!

System: Host, you need to harvest points. A lack of points means death!

Aysel: What should I do?!

System: Marry Young Master Grant.

Young Master Grant? The tetraplegic boss who’s also a sadist?

System: ...Exactly.

Aysel finally realizes what it means to be unloved...

But marrying Young Master Grant seems appealing. After all, he can’t do anything, right?

Perfect! She just has to wait for him to die, inherit his wealth, and finally become rich!

But she’s proven terribly wrong when the man pins her down, his hands roaming over her body, igniting a fire as he meets her gaze and whispers huskily...

"I don’t know how to inflict pain, but I know how to make you cry for release."

Wait, is he still tetraplegic?

Had she... misread?

Transmigrated With A System: I Became The Billionaire Contracted Wife

The address even made the system chuckle.

Yes, Aysel had identified herself as Mr. Dick. One could only imagine the expression of the paparazzo when he read it.

After all, surnamed Dick people were very rare.

Aysel's eyes scanned the rest of the text:

"I'm Johnson Wema, one of the senior reporters at FRM. Please send me the recording you mentioned, and I will fairly determine how much we can pay."

"Tsk tsk… I want a huge sum though." Aysel muttered, scratching her chin as she pulled the laptop closer, preparing to edit the recording.

Meanwhile, she was chatting with the system in her head. "Hey, how much do you think he would offer?"

[Probably a few hundred dollars?] The system threw back the question, and Aysel rolled her eyes, her fingers on the mouse pausing for a bit. "That's too small."

[Beggars doesn't complain.] The system retorted.

Game Changer