Camilla let out a quiet, internal sigh.
"If not for this stupid transmigration, I would have shown her what real wealth is," Camilla thought proudly.
She remembered her life. She remembered the massive bank accounts hidden in different countries around her world. She remembered the luxury cars, the private jets, and the secret safe houses filled with pure cash.
"I did not inherit my money from a rich father," Camilla continued her thoughts, her dark eyes staring straight ahead. "I built my wealth myself. I built it from the age of thirteen."
She remembered the cold nights, the hard training, and the blood on her hands.
"I started acting as a decoy for simple missions," she remembered, her mind flashing back to her dangerous childhood. "I would stand in the street and cry so the target would stop his car. Then, as I got older, I moved on to taking out the high and mighty. Corrupt politicians, evil businessmen, rich criminals. I took their lives, and I get paid big."
