Love-struck sister falls for a peeping tom

My name is Malia Petrov, and my sister Fiona Petrov is obsessed with voyeurs. She deliberately changes clothes in front of surveillance cameras.

In my previous life, I discovered dozens of tiny cameras hidden in her bedroom. I immediately called the police and helped remove all the devices.

But the exposed voyeur, seeking revenge, broke into my home and stabbed me over a dozen times with a knife.

As I lay dying, I called Fiona for help, but she said coldly over the phone: "I'm the one who leaked your address. It's all your fault for meddling and ruining my true love, destroying my dream of becoming a rich woman! You deserve to die!"

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I discovered those cameras!

This time, I won't tell Fiona that behind those cameras lurks a disfigured, twisted man.

My body still aches with the phantom pain of being stabbed repeatedly. I stood frozen in place, unable to believe it, finally realizing—I've been reborn!

Right now, I'm standing in Fiona's rental apartment. My heart races and my hands tremble slightly as everything from my past life remains vivid in my memory.

Ever since Fiona watched that movie, she became obsessed with the handsome, wealthy voyeur protagonist. She fantasized daily that the movie's male lead would actually walk into her real life.

To make this happen, she posted her address online along with carefully made-up, provocatively dressed selfies, specifically noting: "Living alone and lonely, currently single, welcome to chat with me."

Whenever I advised her to be careful about privacy and safety, she'd always roll her eyes and respond: "What do you know? Only completely open love can attract quality men. You're just jealous that someone likes me—you can't stand seeing me happy. Once I find my handsome, wealthy boyfriend, I'll show you what you're missing."

I could only shake my head helplessly.

Later, Fiona claimed she'd read a horror novel and was too scared to sleep alone at night, insisting I stay with her for a couple of days.

In her rental apartment, there was a toy bear with a red light flashing in its left eye.

My heart tightened. Following methods I'd learned online, I drew the curtains and used my phone's flashlight to scan around in the darkness. Immediately, I broke out in goosebumps.

The ceiling, bedside, bathroom... everywhere was covered with countless tiny glowing dots.

Fiona's rental apartment was packed with cameras!

My blood ran cold as I immediately called the police. After collecting evidence, they removed all the cameras. I even contacted building management to strengthen security and thoroughly eliminate all hidden dangers.

I thought I'd helped Fiona dodge a bullet.

But two weeks later, a man wearing a black mask and baseball cap suddenly broke into my home, gripping a sharp fruit knife.

Just then, Fiona called, and I desperately reached for her like a lifeline, trembling as I begged for help.

But from the other end came her mocking voice: "Malia, so you have days ...