Chapter 1I got paid a million dollars to be a playboy's fake girlfriend.
His mom promised me another five million if I could make him settle down, plus ten million if I got him to agree to his arranged marriage.
Easy money, right?
I moved into his mansion and played the perfect girlfriend. Six months later, Weston was head over heels for me.
"Forget the Fischer heiress. I want to marry you."
Then the real bride came back.
Weston started ditching me for her, and everyone thought I was about to get dumped.
But I was secretly rooting for them.
The sooner he married her, the sooner I'd collect my bonus and retire rich.
Love? Please. I was here for the money.
...
I got hired to play someone's girlfriend.
The guy, Weston, was a notorious playboy.
He'd brought home plenty of fake girlfriends just to get out of an arranged marriage.
But his mom had a different offer for me.
She pulled out her checkbook and said, "I'll give you a million dollars to move into my son's mansion and keep him company."
I blinked. A million?
"Get him to settle down and stop chasing other women, and you'll get another five million."
"And if you can get him to agree to marry the Fischer girl, I'll throw in another ten million."
Then she transferred the first million straight into my account.
And handed me the keys to the mansion.
I was sold.
A million bucks, a mansion, and more money on the way? Hell yes!
I gave it everything I had.
For six months, Weston only had eyes for me.
One night, he even said, "Forget the Fischer heiress. You're the only woman I want to marry."
Then the Fischer girl came back from overseas.
Suddenly, Weston was always disappearing.
He'd ditch me at parties, and before long, the two of them were spotted together on a late-night river cruise. The photos even went viral.
Everyone thought I was getting dumped.
But I couldn't have cared less. I checked my bank account and smiled.
Fifteen million dollars.
At that point, I could live off the interest and never work another day in my life.
Honestly? I was already living the dream.
I couldn't stop smiling at my phone.
Should I build a mansion back home? Or buy a townhouse in the city?
Then I heard laughter behind me.
"Look at her. I bet she saw that trending post about Weston and the Fischer girl."
"Of course she did. Her sugar daddy's about to marry a real heiress. Her little gold digger days are over."
"She's pretending not to care, but I bet she's dying inside."
The gala was full of couples.
I was alone, which made me an easy target.
Some woman walked past and deliberately stepped on my dress.
The pale yellow fabric was instantly ruined. I sighed.
This dress cost over two hundred thousand dollars.
Weston bought it without blinking.
I was planning to resell it and pocket the money.
"Oops, sorry," the woman said with a smirk. "My foot slipped."
"It's fine," I said, brushing off the hem. "I didn't pay for it anyway."
They all froze.
"Weston bought it."
I stood up and grinned.
"He's got money to burn. If you can get him to buy you something, go ahead. I won't stop you."
They looked like they'd been slapped.
Weston was famous for being generous, but also insanely picky.
For the past six months, I was the only one he'd spent money on.
"Don't get cocky," one of them snapped, her eyes full of jealousy.
"Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you can act all high and mighty."
"The Fischer heiress is back. What makes you think you're special?"
"I'm a gold digger," I said innocently.
"And his mom gave me a mansion inside the Third Ring Road. Do you have one?"
She was pissed.
"You've got a sharp tongue!"
"But what good does that do? Miss Fischer twisted her ankle, and Weston ran straight to her."
"If he really loved you, would he leave you here alone?"
I grinned.
They had no idea I was the one who set up Fischer's twisted ankle.
Not just tonight.
Yesterday, I made sure she got caught in the rain without an umbrella.
The day before, I arranged for her to get stranded without a ride.
And the day before that, I had some thugs corner her in an alley.
All part of the plan.
I wanted Weston to play hero and bond with her.
Hell, even tonight's trending post? That was my doing.
But I wasn't about to tell them that.
Before I could say anything, my phone buzzed.
A text from Weston: "Come outside. I'm taking you to dinner."
My smile vanished.
Wait, what? Already?
Wasn't he supposed to be having dinner with Miss Fischer?
Why was he coming back for me?
But a gold digger can't panic. I had to stay cool.
I texted back, "Be right there."
Then I waved at the women.
"My sugar daddy's here. You ladies have fun."
"Oh, and—"
I pointed at my dress.
"Someone needs to pay for the dry cleaning. I'll send you the invoice."
I grabbed my dress and got out of there.
Weston's car was parked at the hotel's back entrance.
When I got in, he glared at me.
"Took you long enough. You didn't want to see me?"
I didn't have time for his attitude.
I glanced at the passenger seat.
"Where's Miss Fischer?"
Chapter 2
Weston crossed his arms and glared at me.
"Why do you care so much about her? I'm your sugar daddy!"
I touched my nose.
Both, technically. But I couldn't exactly say that.
"I just thought... you know, since Fischer's back, you two should spend some time together—"
He cut me off by cornering me against the wall.
"So you're throwing me at another woman?"
"The ankle. The trending post."
"You think this is funny?"
Busted.
Tonight was supposed to be simple.
Weston brings me to the gala. We play the happy couple like we'd been doing for six months.
But his mom kept texting me.
"Still no progress on the engagement? Keep stalling and I'm docking your pay."
Hell no. I needed that money.
So I stayed up two nights straight writing this whole elaborate plan.
Fischer twists her ankle by the river.
Some homeless guy bothers her.
Weston shows up right on time to save her.
Hero moment. Romantic dinner. Maybe even spend the night.
That was the plan.
So when Fischer's ankle thing happened at the gala, I casually mentioned it to Weston.
He immediately ditched me and ran to her.
Perfect.
Except now he was back. Standing in front of me. Pissed.
Before I could explain, he kissed me.
"Lola, listen."
His voice softened.
"I don't care about Fischer. I told you—you're the only one I want."
I nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Otherwise you wouldn't have kept this whole fake girlfriend thing going for six months."
That's what he thought, anyway.
He didn't know I had another job. The one his mom was paying me for.
When I took his hand, he finally relaxed.
He picked me up and set me in the passenger seat.
"You hungry? Let's grab dinner."
I nodded.
They were getting engaged soon anyway.
Might as well enjoy the free food while it lasted.
At a red light, he spoke.
"Fischer's fine. Just a twisted ankle. Her family's butler took her to the hospital."
I glanced up from my tablet. "Oh."
Why was he telling me this?
He shot me a look.
"You don't need to keep doing this."
"Lola, I don't need an arranged marriage. I'll make the Gardner family successful on my own. And you'll never have to worry about anything."
I knew it was all fake.
But when he said it like that—so gentle, so sincere—my heart skipped anyway.
"Okay."
The next few days were normal.
Weston worked. We had dinner. Went out.
Just like the past six months.
But then one night, Fischer called him.
She was crying.
Weston got out of bed and rushed out.
He moved quietly, trying not to wake me.
The moment the door closed, I opened my eyes.
I hadn't been asleep.
I watched his car disappear down the street.
Then I just lay there.
My chest felt empty.
I was exhausted, but I couldn't fall asleep.
He didn't come back until five in the morning.
When he saw the light on, he started explaining.
"Fischer had stomach pain. She was alone. She didn't have anyone else to call."
"I took her to the hospital."
He looked guilty.
I pretended not to see the lipstick stain on his neck.
"You should've. She just got back. Of course you should take care of her."
His expression changed.
"Lola. That's it? That's your reaction?"
I blinked.
"What else do you want me to say?"
Did he expect me to throw a party for them?
His face went cold. He repeated himself.
"Lola. I left in the middle of the night to see another woman. And THIS is how you react?"
I thought about it. Then smiled.
"When you two get married, I'll send you a really nice wedding gift."
He froze.
Then he laughed. But it wasn't a happy laugh.
"Wow. You're so generous."
"For someone who loves money as much as you do, that must hurt."
His voice was bitter.
I smiled back.
"I will."
Because that's how I'd remind myself.
It was over.
I had to let go of Weston.
Chapter 3
After that night, Weston buried himself in work.
He stopped talking about marrying me.
He stopped mentioning wedding dresses or our future.
On the seventh day of his business trip, he finally texted.
"Home at eight tonight."
Finally.
I started cooking at six. Two hours later, the table was full.
"Welcome ho—"
I stopped.
Weston wasn't alone.
A woman stood behind him.
"Hi, I'm Claire Fischer."
She held out her hand.
I froze. "I'm—"
She cut me off.
"Lola Grant. I've heard about you. You're even prettier in person."
Yeah. A lot of people had heard about me.
Two years ago, the Fischers and Gardners arranged an engagement.
Weston had never met Claire. She'd been overseas. He assumed she was boring.
He refused.
So he started bringing home a different woman every month just to piss off his family.
I was nobody.
Just a three-hundred-dollar fake girlfriend he hired for one night.
Then his mom paid me a million to stick around.
So I did. I went from temp to full-time.
I used every trick I had to keep him hooked for six months.
His mom looked me over and said, "With your face and body? You'll have him eating out of your hand."
She was right.
And I became famous for it.
The most notorious gold digger in their circle.
So yeah. Claire knew who I was.
After some small talk, I turned to Weston.
"I made dinner. Do you want—"
The food was cold. I'd been waiting for hours.
"No. Throw it out."
He didn't even look at me. He walked upstairs with Claire.
"Pick whichever room you like."
I just stood there. "Miss Fischer is staying here tonight?"
"Not just tonight."
His voice was cold.
"She's moving in."
"Oh."
I turned around and dumped everything I'd spent two hours making into the trash.
It was the last meal anyway.
Claire walked around upstairs and stopped at my room.
"Weston, I want this one."
I looked at him.
This room had two big windows. Perfect light.
I needed it. The darker rooms made me break out when it rained.
Weston had knocked down a wall himself to add a window for me.
Now he looked at me coldly.
"Give it to her."
I didn't argue. I packed my things.
Claire smiled.
Then she started ordering me around like hired help.
"Miss Grant, you're so handy. Why don't you make the bed while you're at it?"
Weston just watched.
"Do it."
"Claire's not used to this kind of work."
Okay. That was enough.
I didn't mind working. But not for free.
"Five hundred to make the bed."
Weston scoffed.
"Clean the bathroom too."
"A thousand for the bathroom."
Claire laughed.
"I thought you had some pride. That's all?"
She pulled out a thick stack of bills and tossed them in the air.
"Pick it up."
I crouched down and started collecting them.
My hair fell over my face. Hiding my reddened eyes.
I didn't let them see anything.
But inside, I felt pathetic.
Lola, what are you being dramatic about?
You've always been a worker. That's all you've ever been.
I picked up every bill.
Looked up and smiled.
"Thank you, Miss Fischer. You and Weston are both so generous."
"I hope you two are very happy together."
