The Kings Perfect Surrogate
A fresh breakup meant finding an exact lookalike of the other, a grotesque ritual of mutual torment that they played with sickening relish.
My tragedy? My childhood friend, Finn OConnell, was chosen by Veronica.
When they finally brought him back, he was barely alive.
He was a vegetable. Permanently and horrifically crippled.
His single mothers hair turned white overnight.
That same night, they drank a fatal draught together, never waking to see the next days sun.
And just like that, I lost the only two people I had left in the world.
Standing before their shared grave marker, I wiped my tears dry.
"You played the Surrogate Game, using other people's lives as your twisted foreplay."
"This time," I whispered to the cold stone, "I'm the one taking a seat at the table."
Later, the Gold Coast Set would be turned upside down.
No one could have predicted that Harrison King would personally push Veronica Sinclair into hell, all for the sake of a surrogate.
1
"OMG, I'm absolutely obsessed with Harry King and Ronnie Sinclair. They break up and immediately find a lookalike for each other, it's basically their secret way of saying, 'I still love you!'"
"This isn't a breakup, its peak, high-level relationship kink. The rest of us can't even afford a therapist; they're playing the Surrogate Game on ultra-hard mode."
"Seriously, their love is so real, even the fake versions have to be exact copies of the other."
"..."
I scrolled through the cheerful online comments.
And I fell into a deep, cold silence.
No one ever asks what happens to the surrogates.
I looked down at the bank card in my hand.
It held a quarter-million dollars, no PIN needed.
It was the money Finns mother gave me just before she drank the poison.
I knew it was the price Finn had paid with his body and his future.
The whispered rumors said Harry King had personally brutalized him. Of course, those kinds of messages were scrubbed from the internet almost as soon as they appeared.
With a final lift of my chin at my reflection, I headed to Fairhaven.
2
Veronica Sinclair, you already ruined my face, why cant you just let me go?
Please, leave me alone. I swear Ill never go near Harrison King again, Im begging you
The woman standing before me, wearing a cheap surgical mask, shrieked her desperate plea. Her eyes were wide with terror, the edge of hysteria cracking her voice.
Around the edges of the mask, I could clearly see the crisscross of pale, angry scars covering her skin.
I gently touched my own face. Do I really look that much like her?
The difference in my voice made the woman freeze. You youre not her?
I nodded. Im not her. But I intend to be. Help me.
She took the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
In return, she told me everything she knew about Harrison King.
Three days later, thanks to her introduction, I was working as a cocktail server at The Zenith, a top-tier nightclub that catered to the Gold Coast elite.
3
The lead hostess looked at my face, a deeply knowing, cynical smile playing on her lips.
Honey, the moneys easy. The price is steeper.
She wasn't wrong. The price the scarred woman had paid to Veronica was permanent.
With that warning, she pointed me toward the Onyx Suite. It held the club's most esteemed, powerful guest.
When I pushed the door open, seven or eight pairs of eyes swept over me.
They were appraising, expectant, and frankly, bored. The atmosphere immediately grew subtle, charged.
The man on the main sofa was lounging back, toying with an amber crystal tumbler, seemingly absorbed by the city lights outside the window.
The entire energy of the room centered on him, a heavy, silent pressure.
Harrison King. I saw him.
New girl? Interesting choice. Harry, man, look at this. Little Miss Sinclair's been out of the country for like, a minute, and someone already volunteered to be the next contender?
Holy crap, shes a dead ringer. Even more than that actress from the film academy last month. Especially those eyes. That jawline. The whole deal.
Wait, is this one of Mr. Sinclairs illegitimate kids? Its not totally out of the question, haha
The discussion was too loud, too close.
Harrison King finally, slowly, turned his face toward me.
My breath hitched, a pause I couldn't control.
His eyes were intensely dark, profoundly deep.
When he saw me, a flicker of surprise crossed them. But the surprise was instantly replaced by unconcealed annoyance. He was about to speak when the man beside him cut him off.
The slender-faced guy seemed drunk, leaning toward Harrison with a careless grin.
Harry, this one is insane, man. Looks completely untouched, totally natural. Since you and Veronica are on a break, and she hasnt found a replacement to piss you off yet, why not let your little brother have a turn with this one?
The moment the words left his mouth, the entire suite fell silent. Everyone stared at him as if he were an idiot.
And then, just as expected, Harrison King moved without warning.
He grabbed the nearest bottle of expensive scotcha bottle that had cost someones salaryand, without aiming, swung his arm.
Thud.
A sickening sound.
The slender-faced guy let out a tortured, desperate howl.
Blood gushed from his temple.
He pitched forward, crashing onto the floor in agonizing sobs.
Harrison King slowly straightened up.
He tossed the shattered neck of the bottle aside.
Then, he walked straight toward me.
He stopped directly in front of me, finally raising his gaze to mine.
He watched me for a long time, his eyes filled with a terrifying nostalgia.
His hand rose to cup my cheek, feeling the slight tremor in my fear-stricken body.
After what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice hard and icy.
So much alike. Truly too much like her, exactly like Ronnie when she was younger.
Your boss sending you here to me is both your luck and your misfortune.
Because you will never marry. I wont allow any other man to touch you.
He lifted my chin slightly.
And this place is certainly no place for you.
4
Harrison King stashed me away in a secluded estate in the Fairhaven suburbs.
There was only a quiet, gray-haired housekeeper, Mrs. Denton, who oversaw my meals and rarely spoke beyond necessary instruction.
Harrison dropped me here without explanation, without a timeline.
I didn't care.
I spent my days absorbing every detail of Veronica and Harrisons relationship story, studying every video of Ronnie, mimicking her every gesture, every look.
The arch of her smile.
The fleeting glance in her eyes.
The subtle tilt of her neck when she was listening.
I painstakingly pieced together the past of the Gold Coast princess.
Any fool could see that Harrison King despised the current Veronicathe one who fought him, the one who challenged him.
So, I would give him the pliable girl from his memory.
I never aspired to his love. My task was simple:
To perfectly play the part of the Veronica who had loved him unconditionally, the one who obeyed his every whim.
The teenage Veronica. The Golden Standard.
Waiting was torture, but I had infinite patience.
The image of Finns mangled body.
The sight of his mother and him after they drank the poison.
They surfaced every time I closed my eyes.
That was more than enough to quell any restlessness I felt.
Until that stormy dusk, when the rain was just beginning to fall.
The front door was kicked open.
Harrison King strode in.
His hair was messy. The stench of alcohol was thick on his clothes. Raw fury was rolling off him.
He spotted me instantly, sitting by the living room window, pretending to read a book.
The moment our eyes met, he roared, his eyes bloodshot.
Veronica Sinclair, what the hell do you want now? Are you finding a surrogate overseas just to spite me?
Three years ago, when we had our first major fight, I was the one who deliberately found a surrogate to hurt you. I was wrong, fine.
But ever since then, you changed. You bring it up every other week to provoke me, then you go find a surrogate. Do you think I cant match you? That Harrison King cant find a lookalike? Are we destined to keep doing this forever? When does it end? Do you even love me anymore? Do you want to marry me?
Three years, and youre still clinging to that one time I messed up? Youre so petty, so spiteful, its disgusting!
Listen to me, Ronnie, my patience is finite. The day I walk away from you, you will regret this so completely
His chest was heaving. He was venting an explosion of emotion. I even saw a strange, desperate catharsis on his face.
I guessed he and the real Veronica hadn't had an honest conversation in a long time.
My eyes were already brimming with tears.
My expression was a mix of alarm and wounded innocence.
I inhaled gently, and with the soft, timid, almost-pleading tone I had practiced countless times, I whispered.
H
Harrison Kings every movement, every syllable, cut off instantly.
The raging fury on his face froze. His eyes became vacant, lost.
He was seeing the ghost of the former Veronica.
H. It was the intimate nickname only she had ever used for him.
And now, I was the second.
At that moment, a single tear rolled down from my eyesthe eyes that so closely mirrored Veronicasand trailed down my pale cheek.
A fleeting look of clarity, of self-disgust, flashed in Harrisons eyes.
Slam.
A sharp, ringing slap hit my face. Hard.
The force sent me staggering, collapsing back onto the plush sofa.
Who told you to call me that?
He let out a low growl.
Do you think acting like her, copying her voice, copying her nickname, makes you her? What the hell are you? A cheap imitation? You think youre worthy of copying her?
It stung. It really, really hurt.
My cheek was already swelling.
But my heart was ice-still.
Good. The bigger his reaction, the more effective the imitation.
I kept my voice choked with sobs, channeling the desperate, pleading tone of a young girl trying to appease the man she adored.
H, please, dont be like this. Im scared.
I was wrong. Please dont be angry, okay? I promise Ill change. I wont do it again. Just dont shut me out, dont be so cruel to me.
I even stretched out a hand to tentatively touch his tightly clenched fist.
The moment of contact.
Harrison King went utterly still.
He looked at the tears staining my face.
He looked at my careful, fragile, pitiable expression.
His rage receded like a crashing tide.
In that instant, a strange illusion of time travel surged through him.
He was seeing the girl from years ago.
The one who tugged on his sleeve and charmed him.
The clean, innocent girl.
The Veronica who hadn't been hardened and weaponized by family politics.
His Ronnie.
He had fantasized countless times about her returning to the way she was.
Now, it seemed to have happened.
Emotions, complex and overwhelming, flooded him.
In a quick, wrenching movement, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his embrace.
Ronnie, yes, this is who you are, this is who you should be! Why did you change? Dont change!
I told you that one time was my mistake, it was three years ago, why do you have to keep holding it over me?
He held me in a crushing embrace, his voice shaking, pouring out a torrent of desperate words.
I felt the immense depth of his love for Veronica.
No. His desperate, agonizing love for the former Veronica.
Finally, Harrisons body stiffened, and he gently pushed me away.
My eyes remained tear-filled, fixed on him with a look that was helpless and pleading.
He reached out, softly brushing the tears from my cheeks.
Listen. From today on, you stay here. You cant go anywhere. You will be my Veronica.
I saw the crazed possessiveness in his eyes and obediently nodded.
And youre only allowed to be her for me.
With that, he turned and strode out of the villa, leaving in a hurry.
Watching his retreating back.
I lowered my head and let a small, subtle curve touch my lips.
5
I didn't sleep well that night.
I dreamed of the year I was seven, the year my parents car plunged down the mountain ravine.
I was pulled from the wreckage.
I stood in a daze, staring at the two stretchers covered with white sheets.
Relatives swarmed in.
They fought, red-faced, over the insurance payout and compensation money.
In my confusion, a stream of powerful uncles and aunts took turns looking after me.
For two years, I ate every meal under their judgmental gaze.
In the dead of winter, when I was nine, I accidentally broke my cousins toy. My aunt pointed her finger at me and screamed that I was a curse, a jinx who killed her parents.
Finally, I was thrown out of the house, along with a few threadbare clothes.
The snow was heavy. I curled up on a street corner, certain I was going to freeze to death.
Mrs. OConnell, Finns mother, found me while shoveling snow early that morning.
She didn't ask a single question. She took off her old coat and wrapped it around my nearly frozen body, leading me back to her tiny, third-floor walk-up.
It was there I first met Finn OConnell.
He brought me hot water, clumsily rubbing my frostbitten, purple hands.
He brought me a bowl of simple tomato soup with toasted cheese croutons, the most delicious thing I have ever eaten to this day.
The dream shifted.
Mrs. O'Connell kept me, carving out a slice of warmth from her meager salary.
Meat and vegetables always ended up in Finns and my bowls.
She always smiled and said, The kids are growing, eat up.
At school.
When I was bullied, mocked as an orphan, a piece of trash no one wanted.
Finn was always there, standing in front of me, arguing on my behalf, never backing down even when his nose was bloodied.
I had my sweet moments in life, too.
Char, Im heading to the city to work first. Take care of Mom at home. Ill come back for you just before the fall semester starts.
It was the summer after high school graduation. Finn was vibrant, full of hope for the future.
I nodded. Be careful in Fairhaven. You look too much like that awful Harrison King. I heard rich people like them play this surrogate game.
His ears turned pink. Youre no better. You look exactly like Veronica Sinclair.
The atmosphere went quiet.
Suddenly, he turned to me, his eyes shining.
Those rich jerks find surrogates to play their twisted games. Maybe us poor kids can make do with each other?
He spoke playfully.
But his eyes were serious. Brightly fixed on me.
The evening breeze was hot, carrying the scent of cut grass.
My heart skipped a beat. My cheeks burned. I looked away, mumbling.
Who said Id make do with you?
He didn't say anything more. He just secretly extended his pinky finger and hooked it around mine.
It was light, sweaty, but incredibly firm.
Neither of us looked at the other. We just stood there, fingers linked, watching the sun set.
Later, Finn called me. He said some woman had forcibly taken him, that hed find a way to escape.
Finn returned, just as he promised.
But all the life had been drained from him.
I watched Mrs. OConnells spirit break.
She never spoke a word of blame. She just handed me the bank card that had been sent back with Finn.
That night, she said she was hungry.
I went out to buy food. When I returned, I found both her and Finn foaming at the mouth, their bodies twisted, an empty bottle of lethal liquid on the floor.
Ah
I woke up, screaming.
My face was wet with tears.
I bit down, brutally scrubbing the moisture away.
Because now, I didnt have the right to cry.
Outside, the sky was a pale, pre-dawn gray.
Day was coming.
6
Three days later, Harrison King returned.
He brought me with him to a gathering of his peers.
They saw me, and no one was surprised.
The conversation revolved around mergers, polo matches, and overseas yachts. I didnt understand any of it.
All my attention was focused on Harrison King, my eyes fixed on him with a look of deep, practiced concern.
He was drinking heavily, downing one glass of hard liquor after another.
He accepted every toast.
Anyone could see the deep irritation weighing on him.
Hed likely just had another vicious fight with Veronica.
Come on, Harry, one more toast. We appreciate your guidance on the merger.
A portly man with a slicked-back hairline bowed slightly.
Harrison nodded, poured the whiskey, and raised the glass without hesitation.
But the next second, my hand pressed down on his glass.
I looked the man straight in the eye, my gaze firm, allowing for no argument.
Hes had enough.
The suite went instantly silent.
Everyone stared at me in disbelief, as if I were insane.
Who the hell do you think you are? they seemed to ask.
A surrogate? Daring to stop Harrison King from drinking?
Everyone waited for him to explode.
But he didn't move.
Harrison King looked dazed, lost in thought again.
Since my arrival, this was the second time.
Yes. His Veronica was exactly like this.
The girl whose world revolved around him.
The girl who valued him above all else.
The one who couldn't stand to watch him destroy himself.
She would get angry, shed worry.
She would yell at him, her eyes red, and then shed end up crying herself.
She would never be like the previous surrogates, who just smiled and egged him on.
Whatever he drinks, Ill take it.
Before I finished speaking, I grabbed his glass and downed the drink in one gulp.
The raw liquor burned all the way down, making my stomach clench.
Everyone was stunned, slightly confused.
Because Harrison King didn't show the expected fury. He was just staring at me.
I didn't stop.
The second glass.
The third.
The fourth.
I went around the table, taking the drinks for the men who hadnt yet toasted him.
When I picked up the fifth glass.
I could barely stand. My face was pale. Cold sweat was beading on my forehead.
Harrison King slapped the glass away.
He gave a low roar. Are you trying to kill yourself?
I looked up at him, forcing a weak smile.
H, my stomach hurts
With that, I collapsed into his arms.
Before I completely lost consciousness, I heard Harrison Kings voice, raw and panicked.
Get her to the E.R. now!
7
After my discharge from the hospital, Harrison Kings visits to the estate increased.
He never truly touched me in those early days.
He would just hold me in his arms.
Sometimes in silence.
Other times, he would talk endlessly about the past.
Finally, I delivered the line Id prepared: H, I have amnesia.
Harrison King suddenly came to his senses, pushing me away. He hissed at me.
Who are you? What is your purpose in getting close to me?
Tears welled up in my eyes. Im poor. Im an orphan. I just want a good life.
Harrison King fell silent.
He pulled me back into his embrace. You succeeded.
I spoke softly. From now on, my world is only you.
His body shook. He held me tighter.
After that time, he started calling me Char.
He would take me to the hole-in-the-wall diner in the old part of town.
The old proprietor didn't recognize me, greeting us with warmth.
Ronnie, Harry, you two havent been here in ages.
Harrison King paused slightly but didnt contradict him.
He took me to many places. I knew they were places he and Veronica had shared memories.
I must admit, experiencing them deepened my understanding of their past.
I became even more adept at manipulating Harrison King.
He and Veronica had daily phone calls.
But every conversation, starting calmly, ended in a screaming match.
After he hung up, Harrison King always looked utterly drained.
One night, he didn't leave.
That night, our relationship became intimate and physical.
Afterward, he started hanging up on Veronicas calls with blatant annoyance, seemingly having lost the will to even argue with her.
When Veronica's calls became fewer and farther between, I knew she was coming home soon.
8
The Onyx Suite.
The second time I stepped into this room, I did so as Harrison King's declared woman.
Because of the drinking incident and the subsequent change in Harrison's attitude, his friends treated me with noticeable respect.
I stayed quiet throughout, only stepping in to stop Harrison when I felt he was drinking too much.
He smiled faintly and, without needing to be told twice, stopped drinking.
This surprised everyone and earned me a quiet, deeper level of regard.
They weren't fools; they saw the change, the clear difference in Harrison King's feelings for me.
Suddenly, a loud crash.
The suite door was violently thrown open.
A woman walked in.
Her presence was immense, a towering wave of authority that outmatched everyone in the room except Harrison King himself.
It was Veronica Sinclair.
In that instant, our eyes locked.
We were both slightly stunned. We looked so much alike.
The difference: her features were sharp, hard-edged, while mine were soft, yielding.
The contrast was stark.
The whole room was frozen.
Just then, the man behind Veronicaher surrogatespoke carelessly.
Ronnie, my hands are incredible. When you finish your evening, Ill give you the best massage youve ever had.
Veronicas red lips curved into a smile. She walked straight to the sofa opposite Harrison, crossed her legs, and stared directly at him. That sounds lovely, she said.
My gaze fell upon the man behind her.
His brows were strikingly similar to Harrison King's. And devastatingly, similar to Finn's.
A sudden, icy terror gripped me. I felt like I was seeing the scene Finn had faced. The cold pierced me to the bone.
Just then, a warm hand closed around mine.
It was Harrison Kings hand.
Dont be afraid, his touch seemed to say. Im here.
I knew he thought I was terrified of Veronica.
Afraid of the oppressive power of the true owner of the face I wore.
He clearly had no idea what I was truly afraid of.
That intimate moment was seen, without error, by Veronica Sinclair.
The lazy smile instantly froze on her face.
She watched Harrisons tightly clasped hand on mine.
She watched the raw, protective posture he took.
I felt a gaze, poisonous and scalding, fix on me, wanting to rip me to shreds.
Harrison King didnt notice her change.
He stood up and walked toward the surrogate.
I couldnt focus on Veronica. My eyes were fixed on Harrison's every movement.
One foot.
I watched the most savage kick Id ever seen.
It went straight for the mans groin.
Aargh
An agonizing, inhuman scream echoed through the suite.
The surrogate curled up on the floor, his hands clamped over the bloody mess between his legs, rolling in pure, unadulterated torment.
Everyone watched the scene with cold indifference, their expressions bored, as if it were a common occurrence.
Veronica Sinclair was the same, her entire focus still fixed on me.
I sat there, my body rigid as stone.
Did Finn face this exact scene?
I began to tremble, my vision tunneling to black.
The mans pitiful screams merged with the imagined cries of Finn.
It felt like my nerves were being torn apart.
Tears poured from my eyes, uncontrolled and real.
Harrison King ignored the man writhing on the ground, kicking him repeatedly in the head until he finally fell unconscious.
Somebody get him out of here. Same rule: give him a quarter-million.
Then, he turned to walk back to me.
But Veronica moved.
Same rule, Harry. My turn.
A steak knife appeared in her hand. She walked straight toward me.
The people around us still didn't change their expressions.
Clearly, her next action was predictable.
The looks they gave me held a hint of pity, perhaps because I had blocked the drinks for Harry.
But pity wouldnt change the outcome.
I wasnt looking at Veronica. I was staring, tear-drenched, at Harrison King, my mind consumed by the brutal image of Finn suffering this exact humiliation.
Thats how a vibrant, hopeful boy was destroyed.
Veronica closed the distance, the knife aimed, without hesitation, directly at my face.
I still didn't move, entirely submerged in my own world of pain and memory.
Just as the tip of the blade was about to touch my skin
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