Chapter 1Who Are You Dating?

One day, a long-term client of mine hit me up. [15k to meet my online boyfriend for me? You can keep everything he buys you.]

I was about to type out a polite "no thanks" when she sent the next message. It was a picture of my nemesis.

My face went blank. [Are you telling me you’ve been using my photos and videos to date him?]

* * *

[You've been scammed, girl,] I typed back, trying to be gentle.

[Impossible,] she shot back instantly. [He's sent me so much money. He has to be the real Julian Henderson, the heir to the Henderson fortune.]

I sighed.

I dragged the photo she sent of Julian into a Google search. It was a stock image, used and abused by dozens of gossip blogs. I took a screenshot and sent it to her.

She was unmoved. [We've worked together for ages, would I lie to you? My online boyfriend is the Julian Henderson.]

I let out a slow, frustrated breath. From what I knew of the insufferable Julian Henderson, the swarm of women he dealt with in real life was more than enough to handle. The idea of him bothering with an online romance was laughable. Especially one where he had to look at my face. He wouldn't fall in love behind a screen; he’d probably just throw up.

[He saw my—well, my—photos and didn't say anything?] I asked.

[He said they were beautiful. I mean, you are,] she said, then quickly added, [I even used your voice notes! He sends me ten grand every time I use one!]

Oh, dear god.

If Julian actually heard my cutesy, high-pitched voice from those recordings, he'd lose his appetite for a week.

That settled it. There was absolutely no way the guy she was talking to was Julian Henderson.

With that comforting thought, I scrolled through the photos and videos I’d sold her. The pictures were just standard selfies, nothing too crazy.

The videos, however…

Me, in a series of tight mini-dresses, complete with a cutesy kitten-ear filter.

Whatever. It wasn't the real Julian. No harm done.

My client’s messages turned desperate. [Please, babe, just help me out. It's a totally safe, public meetup! I told him I'm not ready for anything physical. We're meeting at the downtown galleria, it's always packed.]

When I didn't reply, she sent another barrage of texts. [If you're nervous, just stay for one minute and leave! Please? If he thinks I'm a catfish, how am I supposed to keep getting money from him?]

A few seconds later, a notification popped up. A direct deposit of $50,000 had just landed in my bank account.

The fingers I’d been using to type my refusal froze mid-air.

Then again, what kind of person uses Julian Henderson’s photos for a dating profile and then has the guts to meet in person? Wasn't he afraid of getting called out for false advertising? This client could hire me to be her stand-in, but nobody could order the real Julian Henderson around.

You know what? I was curious. I wanted to see what kind of train wreck this guy was.

I deleted my half-written rejection.

[Fine.]

This client was playing with serious cash. Honestly, the fake Julian sounded more generous than the real one.

Fearing I'd change my mind, she immediately sent a flurry of screenshots of their chat history. It was a cringe-fest of "Hubby, kisses!" and "I only love you, hubby!" peppered with gifs of spinning cats and blushing kittens.

The fake Julian's replies were always the same.

[You're so beautiful, baby.]

Transaction Notification.

[You're so cute, baby.]

Transaction Notification.

Transaction Notification.

Transaction Notification.

Holy moneybags.

She quickly sent me the location. [This mall.]

I glanced at the address.

Well, what do you know.

The Crown Prince actually did frequent this place; it was near one of his family's villas.

Maybe…

I pulled up Julian's contact and hit dial. Wouldn't it be perfect to have the imposter see the real Julian Henderson show up right in front of him? Scare him half to death.

Ah. Right.

I forgot. He blocked me.

I silently closed my phone.