Reborn as the Villainess

Inside th tin box, neatly tucked under a bundle of cash secured by a worn-out rubber band, was an old, frayed notebook and a remittance slip with a familiar bank account number, one that sent a shiver down Andrew's spine.

"Wait a minute. Andrew Felix's voice broke through the tense silence, thick with disbelief. "Isn't this the same account Gloria used to send us money? What's it doing with Eleanor's things?" His shock was palpable, his eyes darting between his brothers as if searching for answers etched in their expressions.

Andrew's expression remained stone-cold, but his grip on the tin box tightened, fingers trembling ever so slightly. Something gnawed at the back of his mind-a thought so explosive, he almost refused to entertain it. The implications of what he held in his hands began to unfurl like a dark cloud, overshadowing the fragile threads of their familial bond.

With a sense of foreboding, he opened the notebook, and the delicate, almost shy handwriting stared back at him, each carefully formed letter a haunting echo of the sister he had thought he knew. The words seemed to leap off the page. carrying with them the weight of secrets and unspoken truths. was Eleanor's handwriting.

He leaned closer to the notebook, his voice a smooth murmur as he read aloud the carefully penned notes, "May 19th. Sunny I heard Andrew's company took a hit today. He lost 70 grind. He must be devastated. How can i make that kind of money for him quickly enough?

May 30th. Cloudy. My brothers are running low on living expenses. I won't get paid until the end of June for my part-time jobs. I wish my boss would give me an advance.

July 3rd. Dylan sent me a text saying he missed me. It makes me so happy. But I can't respond. I tried calling Gloria, but she's overseas and doesn't pick up. I miss Dylan, too."

The entries were scrawled across the pages in her tiny, precise script, as though she was trying to conserve every inch of paper. Yet, within those small, fragile letters were her deepest emotions-her highs and lows, her love and longing.

Further on, the diary shifted from personal musings to meticulous records of expenses. Page after page of detailed expenses and income, every cent accounted for. Eleanor had juggled five jobs at one point, her only rest time being the cramped, noisy subway rides between shifts.

She earned around 10 grand a month, but spent a mere 50 dollars on herself. The rest was all transferred directly to their

accounts.

It was during that time-when the Vanderbilt family had just crumbled, and "Gloria" was supposedly sending them money so generously-that Andrew's newly-founded business had barely survived the crushing pressure. It was "Gloria", or so they thought, who had wired him 70 grand at the most critical moment to keep his company afloat.

They'd all wondered at the time how Gloria, from halfway across the world, had known so quickly about their financial struggles. They didn't think too much of it, assuming Gloria had been keeping a close eye on them from afar.

Then, Corey, Eleanor's second brother, had gone to study design, Patrick had entered medical school, Dylan had dived into research, Samuel had pursued his acting career, and Felix had focused on his studies-all thanks to Gloria's constant, timely financial support. She always seemed to know the exact moment they needed help.

But now it was all starting to unravel. The truth was staring them in the face and they were ridiculously wrong.

It wasn't Gloria who had been helping them. It had been Eleanor all along-the sister they had dismissed and neglected, the one they thought wanted nothing to do with them.

No... No, it can't be. Eleanor, no matter how capable, couldn't have pulled together tens of thousands of dollars. It has to be some trick. A cover-up, Andrew thought, struggling to accept what the notebook was revealing.

As he turned more pages, folded papers began to appear, tucked carefully between the lines. He unfolded them, revealing bold red letters that practically screamed off the page. They were a voluntary kidney donation agreement, a consent to participate in drug trials, and a blood donation consent form. Each document bore Eleanor's signature, dated and sealed.

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Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Gloria always claimed she was busy and avoided their calls, claiming she couldn't help. Every time they needed money, Gloria somehow knew instantly and wired the funds without question. The account was always local. It had been Eleanor all along-quietly sacrificing her body, her health, her future-to keep her brothers from drowning in ruin. And they'd never known. They never even thought to ask.

Outside, a deafening roar of wind shattered the suffocating silence. A storm was brewing, the sky turning dark and furious as a typhoon tore through the city. The world itself seemed to mirror the chaos swirling inside their minds, threatening to tear everything apart. On the film set, Eleanor snapped the romance novel My Six Bigshot Brothers shut with a loud thud, startling her assistant, who flinched in response.

Eleanor scoffed. Is the author of this trash one of my haters? Seriously? Same name and everything-fine, whatever. But did they have to kill me off in such a miserable way? And these brothers-they're supposed to be bigshots, right? How are they this dumb? Also, isn't the sister supposed to get pampered in this story? Who exactly is getting pampered here? Gloria, that clueless idiot?"

She furned, her voice rising. "And this Eleanor, too. What a moron. Throwing money at her brothers like it's her job. What, are they missing hands or something? Can't they make their own damn money?"

Eleanor's rant grew more heated, her chest rising and falling as her frustration bubbled over. She tossed the book to her assistant with a sharp flick of her wrist. "Get rid of it. No, better yet-burn it."

She, the renowned award-winning actress known far and wide, had faced her fair share of scandals, and never once did she Jet

any of it faze her. She'd laugh off the rumors like they were nothing. But today, a mere book had pushed her to the edge.

The assistant hesitated, clutching the book awkwardly. "Uh, are you sure you don't want to read the rest? I mean, after this, the six brothers get reincarnated, and-" Eleanor cut her off mid-sentence, still seething. "I don't care what happens next. If I read another word, I might lose it. Now pack it up. We've got a shoot to get to."

"Right," the assistant mumbled, carefully placing the book on the table before hurrying afier Eleanor.From NôvelDrama.Org.

The moment they stepped outside the dressing room, the clear blue sky they'd seen just moments ago darkened ominously. a thick layer of clouds rolling in fast. A gust of wind picked up, turning into a sudden, violent storm. Eleanor shook her head with a smirk. June weather, I swear. It changes faster than my lines on set. She had barely taken a few steps when she heard someone shout, "Eleanor, watch out. The billboard is about to fall down." The wind howled too fiercely for her to catch the full warning. Before she could process anything, a sharp pain shot through her skull. And then darkness consumed her entirely.

"Eleanor? Eleanor, wake up. What's wrong with her?" A chorus of voices buzzed around her, their urgency only intensifying her headache,

She blinked her eyes open, squinting against the bright lights. Hi instead of the familiar chaos of the film crew, what greeted her was the lavish interior of a mansion, chandeliers glitering overhead.

What the hell? She sat up abruptly, her mind racing. I was on set... so how am I here? Where is this place? She scanned the room and then froze in place, recognition tugging at the edges of her memory.

"Eleanor, what's wrong? Are you just going to sit there? Mom asked you to bring that red wooden box from her room. She's

in a hurry, so you need to go quickly," a girl's saccharine voice chimed in beside her.

The girl was dressed in an elegant blue gown, her makeup flawless, but the heavy scent of her perfume made Eleanor wrinkle her nose and step back instinctively. "Who are you?" Eleanor asked, her voice sharper than she intended..

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The girl blinked, confusion written all over her delicate features Eleanor, it's me, Gloria. What's gotten into you?" She tilted her head, giving Eleanor a sweet, innocent smile.

Gloria? The red box? The name hit Eleanor like a jolt of electricity. Isn't this a scene straight out of My Six Bigshot Brothers? How on earth did that end up here?' Her mind raced back to the book she'd just read-the one she'd been so furious about moments ago. The scene felt painfully familiar.

Ignoring Gloria's puzzled expression, Eleanor rushed to the shimmering edge of the nearby fountain. As she gazed into the glistening surface, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Leavy hangs obscured much of her face, and her sallow, emaciated features screamed malnutrition.

She looked so frail that a gust of wind could easily topple her over, and even the elegant dress she wore hung on her like a burlap sack. The person staring back at her was both her and not her at the same time.

No way. Did I just... transmigrate into that book?' she pondered a mixture of disbelief and dread washing over her.

Her thoughts scrambled as she connected the dots. This was the opening scene from the book-the one where the manipulative Gloria, pretending to be the sweet and helpful adopted daughter, used Diana's name to send Eleanor on a wild. goose chase for the red box after Eleanor had just been brought back to the Vanderbilt family.

Inside the box was a precious hairpin that Eleanor's grandmother had left for Diana. But when Eleanor returned, the hairpin had mysteriously vanished.

Diana's fury erupted like a volcano, and with Gloria fanning the lames, Eleanor found herself ensnared in a web of accusations. The whispers about her being a dirty, scheming country girl suddenly gained traction, pushing Diana to the brink of disappointment with her own flesh and blood.

Gloria, seeing Eleanor quietly lost in thought, grew impatient but kept her cool for her plan, her voice syrupy-sweet as she tried again. "Eleanor, the party's about to start. Mom is waiting for you to bring her the red box. If you keep her waiting. she'll definitely be upset. "You wouldn't want to make her angry or create any distance between you and Mom, would you? Especially not when you've just come back to our family."

"Make her angry?" Eleanor almost laughed out loud. How ridiculous. She felt a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, though she quickly hid it. Gloria clearly had some elaborate scheme to set her up in mind, and Eleanor had no intention of letting her pull it off so easily. The old Eleanor had been a pushover, someone they could mold and manipulate at will. But this new Eleanor was a whole

other story.

She wasn't going down without a fight. 'Let's see who's gonna win Gloria Eleanor scoffed inwardly.

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