She wakes up as the infant daughter of a feared, psychotic Grand Duke villain—someone whose name alone makes kingdoms tremble. Everyone whispers about his cruelty, his madness, his obsession with power. But our MC? She sees something different.

💎 Not the bloodshed. Not the terror. But the unlimited money, power, and status.

In her last life, she was a cashier scraping by on minimum wage, secretly harboring gold-digger tendencies. Now, she’s living the dream: no rent, no bills, no clocking in at 9 AM. She’s the villain’s precious daughter, and she’s determined to cling to that diamond leg like her life depends on it. After all, no mail lead is better than him.

The first time she decided to weaponize her crying, it wasn’t even subtle.

If the Grand Duke wasn’t in the room, she wailed like her tiny body was falling apart. Red cheeks, scrunched eyes, flailing little fists—the whole pitiful package. The maids panicked, rocking her, whispering lullabies, offering expensive silks as makeshift toys. Nothing worked. Her screams could have cracked the chandeliers.

But the moment the Grand Duke’s boots clicked against the marble floor and his icy presence filled the nursery—

Silence.

Like a switch had been flipped, the tears stopped mid-hiccup. Her little head turned, mismatched eyes locking on him. Then came the final blow: two fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she reached out her arms and whimpered, “Ah—ahhh…”

The room froze.

The maids had seen him crush a goblet with his bare hands for less noise than that. They had heard the story of the foolish duchess who dared cling to his sleeve at a banquet, and how he had her dragged out screaming with one wrist forever crippled. He was a man made of ice and wrath.

So when he stopped at her crib, staring down at her, everyone held their breath.

And then—the unimaginable.

The Grand Duke picked her up.

Awkwardly, stiffly, like he was holding a weapon he didn’t understand. But the baby—oh, she nestled. Pressing her warm cheek against the cold metal of his embroidered shoulder guard, tiny fists curling into his cloak. She cooed, of all things, and then gave a sloppy baby giggle.

The servants nearly fainted.

“She… l-laughed?” one whispered.

“She’s not afraid of him?” another croaked.

Her father’s face remained its usual stone mask, but his arm around her tightened ever so slightly. The temperature in the room shifted—not warmer, but steadier. Calmer.

And in her little baby mind, the reincarnated cashier-now-gold-digger smirked.

Hook, line, and diamond-encrusted sinker.

If a murderous Grand Duke could melt even a little at her clinging act, then she knew exactly what her new life’s goal would be.

Step one: Make Daddy the biggest daughter-con in history.

Step two: Profit.