The Phantom Heiress And Her Fake Lover

Elwyn stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office.

The city sprawled beneath him, a sea of glittering lights. He held a crystal tumbler of whiskey, the ice clinking softly against the glass as he swirled the amber liquid.

Arthur Page stood two steps behind him, his posture rigid.

"Sir," Arthur said, his voice tight. "We initiated the Nightingale Protocol. We swept the estate and the surrounding five miles. Nothing. The intruder left zero digital footprint. Whoever it was, they are a professional."

Elwyn took a slow sip of his whiskey. The burn slid down his throat.

"I expected as much," Elwyn said, his voice dangerously calm. "What about the other matter? The Evans contract."

Arthur stepped forward and handed Elwyn a sleek leather folder. "Your grandmother, Cornelia, is refusing to budge. She insists the marriage is the only way to stabilize the medical tech division's stock. The Evans family's company is bleeding money, but they hold three critical biopharma patents we need."

Elwyn let out a harsh, cynical laugh.

"She wants to trade my life for a few patents," Elwyn muttered. "Classic Cornelia."

He turned away from the window. His dark eyes were cold, calculating.

"I am not marrying a stranger," Elwyn said. "Especially not an Evans. They are leeches. Call The Sovereign Club."

Arthur blinked, caught off guard. "Sir? The Sovereign Club only handles... highly sensitive, off-the-books requests. The clientele is entirely anonymous, and the fees are astronomical."

"Money is irrelevant," Elwyn snapped. "I want to post a private commission. I need a problem solver. Someone who can play a specific role, cause a massive, public scandal, and force the Evans family to break the contract themselves."

Arthur nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face. "I'll make the arrangements immediately."

Elwyn turned back to the window. His mind drifted back to the ozone smell in his bedroom. Two impossible problems in one night. He rubbed his thumb over the rim of his glass.

Across the city, Elodie guided her Ford sedan onto a dark side street. She found a vacant spot near a twenty-four-hour diner and killed the engine. She sat in the silence, the events of the past hour churning through her mind.

Her encrypted phone buzzed. She opened the secure chat with Scrap.

I need cash, Elodie typed. A lot of it. Find me the highest paying commission on the board. I don't care what it is.

Her screen lit up three seconds later.

Scrap: Funny timing. A new one just dropped. Client is using the alias 'Kaden Bryan.' Posted through The Sovereign Club. He needs a top-tier 'female companion' to play a role and ruin a situation. Payout is eight figures.

Elodie stared at the glowing screen.

Eight figures. That was enough to secure Gus's medical care for the rest of his life and buy her absolute freedom.

A female companion? Acting? It sounded pathetic, but she didn't care.

Accept it, Elodie typed back. Send me the file.

She shoved the phone into her pocket and leaned her head back against the headrest. Tomorrow morning, she would walk back into the Evans mansion one last time. She had unfinished business. But tonight, she had a new identity to prepare.

She started the engine and pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the night.