Chapter 3

3

Lilah was wearing nothing but one of Landon's oversized dress shirts. Her long, slim legs were on full display.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. "Landon dumped you. Stop stalking him."

I stared at her bare legs, my voice trembling. "Why are you in his room? Are you two...?"

Lilah narrowed her eyes, a smug, cat-like grin spreading across her face. "We slept together."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt the world tilt on its axis.

Lilah wasn't wearing makeup. Her face was clean and innocent, nothing like the wild woman in the scandal photos.

No one would ever guess she was the star of that bedroom tape.

"I have you to thank, actually," Lilah purred. "You kept posting those intellectual articles on my social media. Landon started commenting, and he fell for the girl in the posts."

As her double, I had to manage her online presence. I wrote about textile history, global culture, and philosophy.

I had built her a following as a refined, cultured woman. And every time Landon commented, I was the one who replied.

I thought I was having a soulful connection with my boyfriend. Instead, I was hand-delivering him to Lilah.

Landon thought Lilah was his soulmate. He thought she understood him better than I ever did.

Lilah lit a cigarette, blowing smoke in my face. "Landon is amazing in bed. He's got that brooding, intellectual vibe. I should have stolen him from you sooner."

I was shaking with rage, but my heart was breaking. The door opened, and Landon stepped out in his bathrobe.

He froze when he saw me. I turned and ran, my body feeling like it was made of ice.

It was over. Five years of memories were shattered in a single afternoon.

I saw our college days playing in reverse in my mind―meeting in the library, his white shirt, my blue dress, the way we used to talk about history for hours.

"Lyra!" Landon caught up to me, grabbing my arm. I flinched away as if he were radioactive.

He had touched her. He was tainted.

Landon saw the disgust in my eyes and sneered. "You think I'm the dirty one? You're the one who cheated first!"

I knew I was wrong to hide the truth from him. I should have told him about the identity swap.

But I had signed a contract. I had given my word to Mrs. Vance.

"I know we're over," I sobbed. "But why her? It hasn't even been a month!"

Landon's words cut deep. "Because Lilah has a mind. She's cultured, moral, and decent. She's everything I ever wanted in a partner. And she looks just like you."

I looked up, a tiny spark of hope igniting. Maybe he had noticed something. Maybe he knew the woman online wasn't the real me.

But he crushed that hope instantly. "She looks like you, but she's the better version. She's superior to you in every way. You aren't fit to tie her shoes!"

I started to laugh. It was a hysterical, broken sound.

He thought I was the loose woman, while he worshipped the actual woman who was sleeping her way through the city.

"Landon, do you realize how much you're going to regret this?"

His face was a mask of cold indifference. "I already regret knowing you. Loving you is the biggest stain on my life."

For months, his words haunted my dreams. I buried myself in work to keep from drowning in the pain.

The IPO was in full swing. I traveled to thirty different cities for the roadshow, pitching our business model to investors.

I wore a mask during every speech, citing health precautions. In reality, Mrs. Vance had ordered it.

She didn't want anyone getting too familiar with my face. She was already planning for the day Lilah would take over.

It was a mother's devotion. She was protecting her daughter's future while sacrificing mine.

I had no one. No parents, no lover. Just a brother who didn't recognize me.

During the final leg of the tour in DC, I finally collapsed. The stress had broken me.

When I woke up, I was in a warm room filled with the scent of fresh strawberries. I looked toward the window and saw a sharp, elegant silhouette.

A man in a perfectly tailored black suit stood there, smoking a cigarette. He turned to me, his long lashes fluttering. "You're awake."