I Received a Text from 30 Years in the FUTURE—So I Sent My Billionaire Family to HELL Chapter 05

I Received a Text from 30 Years in the FUTURE—So I Sent My Billionaire Family to HELL Chapter 05

In September, we finished our part-time jobs.

Together, we headed north to college.

College life was fulfilling. Mia and I each got busy in our own fields—classes, research projects, clubs, and various side hustles.

We tried a lot of things. And we learned a lot.

Eventually, after getting grad school spots in our senior year, we started putting together our own team and founded a studio.

The early days of entrepreneurship were brutal. We had to juggle academics and work at the same time.

We barely made it to graduate school graduation. Then our company, which was finally starting to find its footing, ran into a massive funding problem.

I led the team through night after night of crunching numbers, but we couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

But Purple Cloud Group, which had promised us funding, insisted we failed to meet their requirements.

I was out of options. And the funding crisis was urgent.

After Mia found out that Mr. Smith, the head of Purple Cloud, would be at Aurora Lounge that night, I changed clothes and headed straight there.

Purple Cloud had worked with us before. He knew our business well.

And even if we really didn’t meet their standards, they should at least tell us where we fell short.

I gritted my teeth. Even if he wanted us to redo all our data according to their specs, I’d do it.

Just give us a clear reason. Not some vague reply like “not a good fit” or “doesn’t meet requirements.”

I cornered Mr. Smith in his private room. After one shot of hard liquor after another, he started to crack.

Slurring his words, he hinted, “Did you piss someone off?”

“Piss who off?”

We’d worked together a few times, so maybe that bought me some goodwill. He lowered his voice.

“The… the Astor family’s guy.”

Then he swayed to his feet, patted my shoulder, and said meaningfully, “Young lady, I actually respect you. But…”

“Sorry.”

I’d drunk too much myself. My head was spinning. I couldn’t think of any “Astor” I’d ever offended.

In business, you make enemies. I won’t deny that.

But going this hard after me, and from the Astors? I honestly couldn’t recall.

I never thought fate would play such a joke on me.

After puking my guts out over a toilet bowl, I overheard a conversation outside. I almost laughed.

Astor. Elias Astor.

The man I would’ve been engaged to if I hadn’t been swapped.

I recognized Vivian’s voice almost instantly. I’d only heard it once by accident, but somehow, years later, I still knew it was her.

Through the gap in the stall divider, her face looked far more mature than in the news photos I’d seen.

She was on the phone, whining. The person on the other end must have been Elias.

Staring at the mirror, she pouted.

“Please, Elias? It’s just a tiny company. Call Mr. Smith from Purple Cloud again, okay?”

I couldn’t hear what he said, but it didn’t sound like he was on board.

I’d never met Elias Astor. Couldn’t figure out why he’d be coming after me.

But Vivian’s next words made me think of another possibility.

“Hmph. Why? Well—”

A flash of cruelty crossed her eyes. She started making things up.

“That creep’s way out of his depth hitting on me! He tried to take liberties at the gala, and I’m gonna make him regret it big time!”

I leaned against the stall wall, watching that vicious-looking woman in the mirror.

Without thinking, I reached up and touched my own face.

The truth was, I’d never stopped following news about the Vanderbilts. What choice did I have? Lucas and “Miss Vanderbilt” were always in the headlines.

Their faces were in the gossip columns every other day.

Oh, and the Astor “golden boy” too.

Ever since that century-scale fireworks show in Ashford celebrating his fiancée coming of age, obsessed fans had been tracking their every move.

Childhood sweethearts come to life in the tabloids.

Anyway, they were permanent fixtures on the celebrity gossip circuit.

I touched my face again.

William had said blood didn’t matter that much back then. But blood makes you look more like each other as you grow older.

Especially… twins.