My Fake Boyfriend’s Real Vendetta

Carlos's face darkened, his expression grim as he strode over and plucked the script from my hands.

"Who let you into my study?"

"Don't you have any idea how important this is to me, Aurora?!"

It was the first time in four years he’d ever raised his voice at me, the mask of the gentle, perfect boyfriend slipping for the first time.

My eyes reddened as well, and I looked straight at him.

"How important? More important than me?"

Carlos carefully placed the script back on the bookshelf and locked it.

His six-foot-two frame felt particularly imposing at this moment. With his back to me, he said in a low voice,

"Ten years ago, I ran away from home. If it weren't for the person who gave me this script, I might have died on the streets of Hollywood."

As if realizing he had said too much, Carlos turned back to me and added,

"Aurora, she is my benefactor, and my mentor."

I forced a bitter smile.

"Are you sure? Just a benefactor?"

Carlos frowned, but his gaze flickered for a moment.

"Of course."

For four years, Carlos and I had never even had a single argument.

He was a newly crowned Hollywood movie star.

I was a dancer on the verge of signing a principal contract with the Paris Opera Ballet.

Everyone thought we were a match made in heaven.

But today, on the day he won his Oscar, and with me twelve weeks pregnant.

I had to overhear such a conversation.

And see so many private photos filled with love.

The cruel truth sliced through the sweet facade like a scalpel.

It made me realize that these four years of what I thought was genuine love were all part of a script meticulously designed by Carlos for his revenge on my mother.

My heart ached so much I could barely breathe.

I had always known that Richard had a son, and I knew he had issues with Richard and my mother remarrying, refusing to come home for years.

But I never knew that he was Carlos.

The same Carlos who had filled my college years, the man I had been in love with for four whole years.

Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes.

With red-rimmed eyes, I spoke in a voice that threatened to break,

"Carlos, in these four years, have you ever lied to me?"

Carlos looked at me, a complex struggle appearing in his eyes.

He raised his hand, as if to wipe away my tears, the gesture still terrifyingly gentle.

"Never, Aurora. I love you so much, how could I ever bear to lie to you?"

He truly was a phenomenal actor.

Carlos had a face that could make all of Hollywood swoon.

A pair of captivating eyes, a high-bridged nose, and chiseled features. When he lied, not even his eyelashes trembled.

At our graduation ceremony, in front of thousands of people, he had knelt on one knee and said he would marry no one but me.

He'd even given me control of all the money he earned from acting.

Everyone said that Aurora James was the happiest woman in the world.

Even I thought so.

But his next words shattered what was left of my frozen heart.

"Next week, I'll take you home to formally introduce you to them."

Carlos's hand caressed my cheek, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

"It's just that, Aurora, you know I don't have a good relationship with my dad. But to marry you, I'll go back and see him. So you must wear the gown I've prepared for you and make a stunning entrance as my fiancée at his charity gala in Beverly Hills."

He wanted me, his stepsister, to appear at my own mother's side, pregnant with his child, and be introduced as his fiancée.

What a vicious, sick melodrama.

How absurd.

How laughable.

Carlos held me tightly.

But his embrace felt so cold.

Tears silently streamed from the corners of my eyes.

It turned out that from the very beginning, he had never felt a single genuine thing for me.