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— Oh, Catherine, Catherine, Catherine — Victor Lawrence’s voice rang out loudly in the luxurious room of his country mansion, while Catherine, her hands quietly folded on her lap, sat at the edge of the couch, looking up at him.
— You don’t look happy at all. — Victor stepped forward, closely examining her face. — Isn’t this cause for joy? I’ve restored your documents. You’re officially alive now. Catherine Lawrence. My Katie. I personally handled everything so that there would be no trace left of the past. Isn’t that wonderful?
Catherine, or rather Adam Winslow — the son of Victor’s main competitor, whose brain was now forcibly trapped in this perfect but alien female body — didn’t move. Her lips twitched slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. She lowered her gaze, landing on her enormous, heavy breasts, barely...