I’m a Professional Substitute

Im a professional substitute, specializing in high-stakes contracts for the city's elite.
My current target is Damian Thorne, the family's youngest sona spoiled, arrogant trust-fund brat.
My mission: tame him with love, get him to settle down, and stop causing trouble for the family.
I'm good at my job. Business was proceeding as usual until the "trophy" he won at a street race showed up.
The girl looked about seventy percent like me, but there was a stubborn fire in her eyes I could only ever fake.
I quietly pulled out my phone and messaged Damians older brother. "Boss, target seems to have found true love. Requesting final payment."
Suddenly, Damians hand clamped down on mine. "Who said you could leave?"
His brother's reply came a second later: "Change of plans. Stay put."

1
My name is Maya Willick. Im a professional substitute. I get paid to play a part.
My current contract comes directly from Adrian Thorne, the heir to the Thorne empire.
His younger brother, Damian, is the city's most notorious hellion, whose favorite hobby is finding new and inventive ways to create scandals for his family.
Last week, he put the sole heir of the Langston family in the ICU. The reason? The guy cut him off during a race.
Last month, at a yacht party, he tossed the daughter of the Zhao family into the pool because she tried to feed him a piece of fruit.
Thanks to his regular appearances on the nightly news, Thorne Industries' stock has been on a wilder ride than any rollercoaster.
When Adrian Thorne found me, I was sitting in a private suite at The Empyrean Club, idly flicking a lighter open and closed.
He pushed the door open, flanked by two bodyguards in black suits. The air crackled with his presence.
"Maya Willick?" His voice was flat, as if confirming an inventory item.
I glanced up but said nothing.
The club manager hurried to his side, offering a nervous smile. "Mr. Thorne, this is our most... compliant girl."
Adrian ignored him, his gaze fixed on my face, assessing me. After a long minute, he held out a hand, and his secretary immediately produced a checkbook. He scribbled something, tore out the check, and slid it across the glass coffee table toward me.
I glanced down. The number was enough for me to live lavishly for years.
"What's this for?" I didn't touch it.
The secretary stepped forward, his tone robotic. "The target is the second young master, Damian Thorne. Your objective is to make him fall in love with you, obey only you, and cease his troublemaking."
I raised an eyebrow. "Taming a wild animal?"
The secretarys expression didn't flicker. "The second young master responds to a soft touch, not force. He has a preference for women with long, dark hair who wear simple dresses. Your personality should be gentle, not overly opinionated. Most importantly, you must make him believe you are pure, that you're not after his moneyonly him."
I listened, then let out a small laugh. I picked up the check and flicked it with my thumb.
"That same amount, wired to your account every month," Adrian finally spoke again, his tone one of absolute certainty, as if bestowing charity.
I looked at the check and thought for three seconds.
Then I turned to him and gave him my most submissive, beatific smile. "Of course, boss."
There was no reason to refuse.
After all, acting is my profession.
And the pay was excellent.

2
The plan to get close to Damian went off without a hitch.
I played the part of a pure-hearted college student working part-time at the club, one who sold her art but not her body.
The third time he "coincidentally" came to my rescue was in a dimly lit back alley. A group of drunk men had cornered me, their hands getting bold. I could have handled them myself, but I didn't move.
I waited until I heard the distant roar of Damians obnoxious sports car before I let the tears fall.
He got out and kicked the man who was reaching for my face to the ground.
"Get lost," he said, his voice lazy with sleep, but his eyes were ice-cold.
The drunks recognized him, sobered up instantly, and scrambled away.
I huddled against the wall, hugging myself, my shoulders trembling just so.
Damian walked over and crouched down to look at me. His fingertips were cool as he brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek.
"You again?" He smirked. "Is being beautiful a crime?"
I was wearing a simple white cotton dress, slightly faded from many washes. The night wind rustled its hem and my long hair. I looked up, my eyes red like a rabbit's, and whispered, "I'm sorry... for troubling you again."
His friends found him then, whistling as they saw us.
"Damian, who's this? Hiding out here with a new girl?"
One of them swaggered over, a sleazy grin on his face, reaching for me.
Damian slapped his hand away, his brow furrowing. "You want to lose that hand?"
The others quickly changed their tune. "Are you blind? This is obviously Damian's girl. You can't touch her."
After they'd sulked away, I carefully, tentatively, reached out and tugged on the cuff of Damian's sleeve. He didn't pull away.
I tilted my face up to his, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears and total reliance. "They only leave me alone when you're here."
Damian studied me for a few seconds, then suddenly swept me up into his arms.
I let out a small gasp and instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck. "Whatwhat are you doing...?"
He carried me toward his car, his tone nonchalant. "Aren't you cold, dressed like that?"
His breath tickled my ear. People were watching.
I buried my face in his chest, my voice muffled. "I... I don't need a title..."
I thought I heard him laugh. He settled me into the passenger seat, and as he leaned in to fasten my seatbelt, his lips brushed against mine in a feather-light touch.
"Alright."

3
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
To the world, I was a Cinderella who had hit the jackpot, the girl who had captured the heart of Damian Thorne.
Pure, gentle, with eyes only for him.
I loved him to the point of self-annihilation. I fretted when he raced, worried when he fought, and grew anxious that other women would steal him away. But I had no right to control him, so I could only plead with him through teary eyes.
Fortunately, Damian seemed to have a weakness for this act. The moment my tears started, he would usually cave.
He stayed out of trouble for nearly six months. Everyone in his circle said Damian had changed, completely wrapped around a little girl's finger.
Adrian was very pleased and gave me a triple bonus.
I became Damian's gilded canary, the pet he paraded at every social event. In many people's eyes, I was a potential candidate for the future Mrs. Damian Thorne.
But I knew the truth. Adrian would never allow a woman with a "questionable background" to marry into the Thorne family, no matter how good my performance was.
In their world, I was, and always would be, just a toy.
So, when I once again begged him with tear-filled eyes not to participate in an underground race, for the first time, he didn't immediately agree.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, stuck one between his lips, and lit it.
"What are you afraid of?" he said, blowing out a ring of smoke and watching me through the haze. "Your man's a damn good driver."
I gripped his arm, shaking my head. "It's too dangerous, I'm scared..."
He patted my head, his tone a little dismissive. "Be good. I'll take you out for a late-night snack after the race."
Then he turned and walked toward the black, heavily modified car he hadn't driven in months. His sycophantic friends cheered and whistled.
A stone dropped in my stomach.
I slowly turned my head.
And there she was. A group of men were leading a girl onto the platform usually reserved for the winner's prize.
She was also wearing a white dress, with long hair, looking delicate. But in her eyes, there was a stubborn fire I could only ever fake.
A wealthy heiress who had long despised me stood nearby, arms crossed, a smirk on her face. "You missed out when you had that fever a few days ago. We were at The Labyrinth bar. She's a singer there. Some clients were harassing her, and Damian stepped in."
I blinked, saying nothing, my mind racing.
Did Adrian hire another one? No, he's not that stupid. Then... was this an accident?
I lowered my head and sighed. When I looked up again, my eyes were already brimming with tears.
This time, though, the sadness was real.
My double salary was probably done for.
The heiress saw my expression and sneered. "Did you really think you could marry into a family like that? It was only a matter of time."
I ignored her and quietly took out my phone.
I started searching: Resignation letter template.
How to write one that was sincere enough to make the boss feel a pang of guilt and maybe offer a little severance pay.

4
Damian won the race, of course.
But the guy he was racing against was a terrible driver and went straight through a guardrail on a turn. The scene descended into chaos, the wail of sirens growing closer.
No one dared to blame Damian. All their anger was directed at the girl.
"If anything happens to Paul, you're dead, bitch!"
The girl's face went pale with fright, and she shrank back.
Damian pulled her behind him, his cold gaze sweeping over the person who had spoken. "Say that again. I dare you."
I stood a short distance away, watching for a few seconds. Then I walked over, took the jacket Damian had draped over my shoulders earlier to keep me warm, and gently placed it on the girl.
She shivered and looked at me.
I gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "It's windy tonight. Don't catch a cold."
Then I looked at Damian. He was watching me, his expression complicated.
I forced a weak smile. "You... did the same for me once."
The girl whispered to Damian, "Who is she?"
Damian didn't answer. He just stared at me, his brow slightly furrowed.
I couldn't keep up the act with him looking at me like that. I had to look down to hide the true emotion in my eyes.
It's over.
Adrian was probably going to dock my entire month's salary. Worse, he might hold me responsible for failing the mission. The more I thought about it, the more panicked I became, and my face must have shown it.
But the girl just tugged on Damian's sleeve, her voice trembling. "Does she... hate me?"
Damian's gaze shifted from me to her. He patted her back, his voice softening. "Don't be silly."
I couldn't bear to watch any longer. I turned and walked away, the stares of the crowd like needles on my back.
Damian didn't follow. He was quietly instructing his men to take the girl to get changed.
I found a quiet corner, my palms slick with sweat. I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling slightly. I opened my email, found Adrians address, and sent the resignation letter I had just drafted. It was heartfelt, emphasizing my dedication over the past few months and my gratitude for his "patronage." I hoped he would, for old times' sake, let us part ways amicably without further repercussions.
Just as I hit send, my phone rang.
It was Maria, the manager from The Empyrean Club.
"Maya, dear, are you free to swing by tomorrow? You still have some things in your locker."
I thought for a moment. I did have a few personal items there. "Okay, I'll be there tomorrow."
After hanging up, I hailed a cab and went back to the small apartment I had secretly bought. I scrubbed off my makeup, took a long shower, and collapsed onto the bed.
No more maintaining a persona. No more worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing.
I took out my SIM card, played on my phone all night, and didn't fall asleep until dawn.
I woke up in the evening. I changed into a comfortable t-shirt and shorts, my face bare, and shuffled out in flip-flops to retrieve my things from The Empyrean.
Maria looked surprised to see me but didn't ask any questions, leading me straight to the locker room. I grabbed the small bag containing a few books and an old bracelet and said my goodbyes.
I had just reached the main lobby when I heard a voice I never wanted to hear again.
"This is the place?"
Damian's voice, laced with a casual disdain. He was with the white-dress girl, who was whispering something to him.
A few of his cronies followed, laughing. "Is Damian here to stand up for his new girl?"
"Whoever bullied her before, step up now!"
My heart seized. I quickly lowered my head, pulled my face mask up higher, and tried to slip out through the other side.
"Maya?" someone called out uncertainly.
I froze, cursing under my breath. How could they possibly recognize me?
I ran a hand through my messy hair, shook my head, and quickened my pace.
Maria tried to intervene. "Gentlemen, let me show you to your suite. That's just one of our new girls, you must be mistaken..."
Before she could finish, my wrist was grabbed from behind in a vice-like grip.
Damian's voice turned cold, commanding. "Look up. Take off the mask."
My body went rigid. I kept my head down, playing dead. The air grew thick with tension.
Finally, the girl spoke, her voice timid. "Damian... I-I don't feel so good."
The pressure on my wrist lessened slightly. He was silent for a few seconds before finally letting me go and turning to the girl.
I bolted without a second's thought, a cold sweat breaking out on my back.
It wasn't until I was safely in a taxi that I could breathe again. The faint, aggressive scent of Damian's cologne still seemed to linger in the air.
But now, it was mixed with a strange, sweet floral fragrance.
How long had they been together... for their scents to mingle like that?

5
The next few days were a blur of glorious, slothful bliss.
I ate, slept, played video games, and binged TV shows, my days and nights completely reversed. No more psychoanalyzing Damian's moods, no more maintaining that damn pure-and-innocent persona. I was almost grateful to the girl for her sudden appearance.
She had given me an early retirement.
Until I saw the local news. The young master of the Vanderbilt family, Paul, had taken a turn for the worse and was back in the ICU. The media went into a frenzy, pointing their fingers directly at Damian, calling him a malignant tumor on society who used his family's name to run rampant.
I crunched on an apple and sighed. It seemed the Vanderbilt family wasn't going to let this go. Paul Vanderbilt was their only heir, after all. Adrian was going to have a massive headache.
Just as I was savoring the schadenfreude, my doorbell rang.
I answered it with the apple still in my mouth. Two men in black suits stood outside, their faces impassive. "Miss Willick, Mr. Thorne would like to see you."
My heart dropped.
Damn it. The drama had found me again.
...
Adrian Thorne's office was even colder than I remembered. He sat behind a massive desk, his expression unreadable.
"Miss Willick," he began, his voice devoid of warmth. "Enjoying your vacation?"
I managed a dry laugh. "It's... been okay. Is there something you need, Mr. Thorne?"
"You may have forgotten, but our contract has not been formally terminated." He looked up, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through me.
I rubbed my nose. "Damian has... someone new now, doesn't he? I don't think I have much influence anymore."
Adrian didn't speak, just watched me. The silence was unnerving.
I pressed on. "Maybe... you could talk to the new girl? I'm sure he'll listen to her now."
"Not everyone is like you, Maya. Motivated only by money," he stated, as if it were a simple fact.
I was speechless. It felt like an insult, but I couldn't argue. It seemed Adrian had already approached the girl and been rebuffed.
"So, what do you want from me?" I asked tentatively.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, studying me. After a few seconds, he spoke. "Paul Vanderbilt is awake. He has specifically requested that you attend to him at the hospital."
Attend to him?
I was stunned.
"Does Damian know?" This was a calculated humiliation. Even if Damian didn't care about me anymore, he wouldn't agree to this.
"Your employer," Adrian said, tapping a finger on the desk, "is me."
I understood. Damian didn't know. Adrian was throwing me to the wolves as a tool to smooth things over.
I sighed. "Mr. Thorne, I already sent my resignation."
The office fell silent again.
I looked up and met his gaze directly. "But... I suppose I could come back to work. For a price."
After all, being a companion was a legitimate job. A much better one than being a substitute.
Adrian watched me, his expression unchanged. After a moment, he opened a drawer, took out his checkbook, tore out a blank check, and pushed it to the edge of the desk.
"The number," he said, "is up to you."
My eyes lit up instantly. I picked up the pen and, without hesitation, added a very long string of zeros.

6
I stood outside the door of the VIP hospital room, took a deep breath, and knocked.
A weak but still lazy voice came from within. "Come in."
I pushed the door open, the smell of antiseptic hitting me. Paul Vanderbilt was propped up in bed, his left arm in a cast and a sling, his face pale. He was idly flipping through channels with the remote in his right hand.
When he saw me, he raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk touching his lips. "I thought you'd refuse on principle."
I put on my professional smile. "You must be joking, Mr. Vanderbilt. Please, let me know if you need anything."
He looked me up and down. "So you're the one. Damian's little pet canary, the one who's so obedient?"
My smile didn't waver. "That's all in the past."
"Is it?" he drawled. "I'm thirsty. Give me some water."
I picked up the glass from the bedside table, inserted a straw, and held it to his lips. He took a few slow sips.
"My shoulder's sore. Massage it."
I moved behind him and began to knead his shoulders with just the right amount of pressure. He closed his eyes, enjoying it for a moment.
"Get me that magazine from under the TV," he said suddenly.
I bent down to retrieve it. As I straightened up, I heard a commotion outside the door, punctuated by Damian's furious voice.
"Get the hell out of my way! I'm here to see if he's dead yet!"
My stomach plummeted. Before I could react, the door was kicked open with a thunderous bang!
I froze, the magazine still in my hand.
Damian stood in the doorway, radiating pure rage. His eyes, like daggers, sliced from me to Paul in the bed. Behind him, bodyguards and nurses hovered, trying to restrain him but not daring to touch him.
The silence was deafening.
Paul was the first to break it, smiling. He looked at the magazine in my hand, his tone suggestive. "Maya, darling, put that down for now. We can look at it later."
Damian's fist clenched, his knuckles turning white. He lunged forward, his arm swinging toward Paul's face.
Without thinking, I stepped in front of Paul.
The punch stopped, the wind of it brushing my nose, less than an inch from my face.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Good, he didn't hit me. I was Paul's companion now; I had to protect my client. I was being paid too much not to be professional.
"Maya!" Damian stared at me, his eyes bloodshot, his voice squeezed through his teeth. "What the hell are you doing?"
I offered an awkward smile. "Damian, what a coincidence. Here to visit the sick?"
He grabbed my wrist, his grip terrifyingly strong. "I asked you what you're doing here!"
Paul leaned back against his pillows. "Isn't it obvious? She's with me now."
"You shut up!" Damian roared at him, his gaze drilling into me. "You've been ignoring my calls all this time just to take care of him?"
I bit my lip. I couldn't tell him Adrian had paid me.
"You got hurt because of him," I said, lowering my eyes, my voice growing soft. "I... I felt guilty. I wanted to come take care of you, as a way... to atone for his sin."
One of Damian's friends who had followed him quickly tried to smooth things over. "See, Damian? Maya's just worried about you. She's afraid the Vanderbilt family will cause you trouble, so she came here on her own. Her heart is still with you!"
Damian's expression softened slightly, but his tone was still harsh. "Since when do I need you to atone for me? Do you think I'm scared of the Vanderbilts?"
He started dragging me toward the door. "Come on! We're leaving! I'll hire ten nurses to wait on him!"
The bodyguards at the door blocked his path again.
Paul's voice was laced with amusement. "You can leave. But my companion stays."
Damian spun around, sneering. "Maya is my woman. The whole city knows it."
"Oh?" Paul raised an eyebrow. "Then why don't you ask her if she wants to go with you?"
Every eye in the room swiveled to me. Damian was staring, waiting for my answer.
I was silent for a few seconds, then slowly, deliberately, I pulled my wrist from Damian's grasp.
I looked up, my eyes welling with tears that threatened to fall. "Damian... I'm sorry. This time, I can't listen to you."
Damian stood frozen. He stared at me, his expression shifting from rage to disbelief, then finally hardening into a chilling coldness.
"Maya," his voice was a low rasp, "say that again."
I bowed my head, and a single tear finally fell, splashing silently on the floor. "I'm sorry... Damian, I'm so sorry..."
Damian didn't say another word. He gave me one last look, a look as cold as ice. Then he turned and walked out without looking back. His friends exchanged glances and hurried after him. The last one to leave shot me a look of profound disappointment. "Maya, you're a fool!"
Once they were gone, I wiped my face and walked back into the room.
Paul was watching me with a wry smile. "Not bad acting," he commented.
I ignored him, picked up an apple, and began to peel it.
"How much did Adrian pay you?" he asked suddenly.
My hand faltered. "What are you talking about?" I feigned ignorance.
He just chuckled and went back to playing on his phone.
I quietly finished the apple, then started on a pear, then a peach...
Then he held his phone up in front of my face again. The video was shaky, the lighting dim. It looked like a booth at a bar. A girl in a white dress was sitting on Damian's lap, feeding him a drink. The background was noisy, but I could hear her sweet voice. "Come on, Damian, just one more..."
I didn't even blink.
Then, the video descended into chaos. The sound of breaking glass, men shouting, women screaming.
I shot to my feet. Damian was fighting again!
I tossed the fruit knife aside and hurried out of the room. "I'm just going to the restroom."
Once I was at the end of the hall, I immediately called Adrian. The call connected instantly.
"Mr. Thorne, Damian is in a brawl at The Labyrinth bar. It's getting out of hand."
There was a two-second pause. "Understood."
The line went dead. Almost simultaneously, I received a text notification: a fifty-thousand-dollar transfer to my account.
I returned to the room, satisfied.
Paul glanced up at me. "You still care about him, don't you?"
I shrugged. "We had a good run."
My mood was excellent. I started humming as I peeled a lychee.
"I'm tired of lying down," Paul said suddenly. "Push me outside for some air."
What?
"No way," I refused. "It's not safe out there. What if we run into Damian..."
He just looked at me. "I want to go to The Labyrinth. See the show."

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