One Hundred Rumors To Marry Him

My younger sister, Tiffany, moved to the city to find herself, but all shes found so far is reasons to complain about my apartment. To her, my cozy one-bedroom in a decent zip code is a cramped, pathetic dump.

I tried to be the good sister. I cleared out my guest closet and bought an expandable room divider to give her some privacy. Her gratitude? She went straight to the family group chat and started a wildfire of lies, telling everyone I was being kept by a "sugar daddy" and that I only lived in this "shithole" because hed dumped me.

This afternoon, I was out on the balcony taking down my laundry. In the penthouse unit of the adjacent buildinga glass-and-steel monolith that housed the city's eliteDominic Thorne was finishing a workout on his private terrace. Hes the crown prince of the Thorne Group, a man worth eleven figures, and as he wiped sweat from his brow, his gaze drifted momentarily toward our building.

Tiffany leaned against the doorframe, watching him, then rolled her eyes at me with a sneer.

"With those wrinkles and that tired look, you aren't even fit to shine his shoes," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't tell me you actually think a man like that would look at someone like you."

She got louder, feeding off her own cruelty, pointing a manicured finger toward the penthouse.

"What, are you going to tell me hes here for you? That the city's most eligible bachelor is your secret husband?" She laughed, a shrill, mocking sound. "If you have the guts to walk over there and call him 'husband,' Ill get down on my knees and bow to you right now. But we both know the truthhis security would toss you out like the trash you are. Youre just a smudge on his view."

She didn't know about the Rumor-Manifestation System.

It was a strange, silent pulse in the back of my mind. If a rumor is repeated ninety-nine times, I can choose to make it reality.

I listened as the mechanical chime echoed in my head: [Rumor count reached: 99. Activation ready.]

I turned my head and looked at the man across the waythe man whose net worth could buy my entire life a thousand times over.

Since you insist he's my husband, Tiffany, I think Ill take you up on that fortune.

...

I stared at Dominic as he draped a towel over his neck.

"What are you gawking at? Put those thirsty eyes away," Tiffany snapped. She was holding my favorite silk blousethe one Id painstakingly steamed for my interview tomorrow. Before I could stop her, she crumpled it into a ball and used it to wipe the dust off the balcony railing.

"Look at yourself," she scoffed, tossing the ruined silk onto the floor and grinding her heel into it. "Youre thirty, single, and pathetic. You arent in his league. You arent even in the same universe."

I clenched my fists. "Tiffany, that was for my interview."

"Oh, please. Its a cheap rag." She pulled out her phone, the camera lens glowing red. "Hey guys, look at this! Heres my 'successful' big sister in the city. Living in a thirty-square-meter shoebox, thirsting after the billionaire next door while she won't even buy her own sister a decent outfit!"

She made a face at the screen, her eyes sparkling with malice.

"You should have seen the way she looked at him just now. Like she wanted to eat him alive. Honestly, Claire, youre an embarrassment to the family."

The comments began scrolling wildly on her livestream. A second later, my phone buzzed. It was a voice note from our mother in the family chat.

"Claire! Have you no shame? I told you to take care of your sister, and this is how you treat her? Tiffany just graduated! You have her living in a kennel while you spend your time chasing rich men? Don't you dare ruin her reputation with your filth!"

Then came another, longer message.

"I heard from Tiffany that a big-shot CEO lives next door. Don't you start getting ideas, you hear me? I know your type. Last month, Mrs. Gable said she saw you getting out of a luxury car. I knew you were up to no good! You clear out of that apartment and make room. Tiffanys boyfriend is coming to visit in two days. Hes from a real wealthy family, a proper heirhe cant stay in that dump. Give them the master bedroom. You can sleep on the balcony or go live in your office for all I care!"

A familiar ache tightened in my chest. Since we were kids, I only got what Tiffany didn't want. I worked my way to the city, built a life, and yet, they still followed me like a shadow, ready to dim my light.

"You hear that?" Tiffany smirked, waving her phone. "Mom wants you out. My boyfriend, Rico, is actually a close friend of Dominic Thorne. Hes used to the best. If youre smart, youll pack your bags before I throw them out the window."

I stared at her, my nails digging into my palms. "I pay the rent here, Tiffany. Every cent."

"So? Your money is Mom and Dads money. Youre just a liability. They should have sold you off for a dowry years ago." Tiffanys eyes darted back to the penthouse terrace. "What? You still thinking hes coming for you? Your 'secret husband'?"

She shouted it toward the open air.

"If you go over there and he actually knows your name, Ill kiss your feet! But lets be realyoure nothing but a stain on his sidewalk!"

[Ding! Detection: The rumor 'The Billionaire is my husband' has reached 99 counts.]

[System fully charged. Host may manifest this rumor at any time.]

The tension in my shoulders suddenly evaporated.

I looked at the neighboring balcony. Dominic was frowning now, looking toward the noise.

If they wanted him to be my husband so badly, I was happy to oblige. But not yet. I wanted them to feel the full weight of their own trap before I sprung it.

I felt a ghost of a smile touch my lips. "Go ahead and post whatever you want, Tiffany," I said quietly, turning back toward the living room. "Just make sure youre ready for the consequences."

"Whats that supposed to mean? You think youre a threat?" Tiffany followed me in, her voice rising. "Im warning you, Claire. If you aren't out by tomorrow, Im taking those pathetic diaries I foundthe ones where you obsess over the CEOand Im posting them all over the neighborhood. Ill make sure you can never show your face in this city again!"

The diaries were fakes shed mocked up yesterday.

"Post them," I said, looking her dead in the eye. "I dare you."

The next morning, my suitcases were sitting in the hallway.

A piece of paper was taped to my own front door, written in thick, black marker: BEWARE OF THE SOCIAL CLIMBER. HER NAME IS CLAIRE.

The door code had been changed.

Inside, I could hear music playing and the smell of expensive takeout. I stood there for a moment, remarkably calm. Then, I pressed the doorbell.

It took a long time for the door to crack open. A cloud of cigarette smoke and the smell of cheap grease hit me. A man stood there, wearing my brand-new silk robethe one I hadn't even taken the tags off yet. There were stains on the collar, and he was picking his teeth with a distracted air.

"Whos this?" He blew a whistle, his eyes roaming over me. "Oh, the big sister? Youre a lot cuter than Tiffany described."

"Move," I said.

"Hey, don't be like that." He reached out to grab my arm. "Tiffanys inside making lunch. Why don't you come in and have a drink with Rico? I can introduce you to some real players, way better than that stiff in the penthouse."

I stepped around him and walked into my own living room.

It looked like a crime scene. Cigarette butts were crushed into my white rug. Red wine was splashed on the cushions. Tiffany was sitting on the coffee table, scrolling through her phone.

"Claire? You actually came back?" Tiffany laughed, gesturing to the man. "Meet Rico. Hes a big deal in the city's inner circle. Best friends with Thorne next door."

Rico puffed out his chest, adjusting the robe that was two sizes too small for him. "Stay humble, babe. I mean, yeah, Dominic and I grab drinks, play some golf. Its whatever."

I almost laughed. "This is why you broke into my home? To turn it into a frat house?"

I pointed at the door. "Get out. Both of you."

Smash.

Tiffany dropped a wine bottle. "Who are you telling to get out? Mom said this place is my dowry. If you don't like it, call the cops! See if they care about a 'family matter'!"

She wrapped her arms around Ricos neck. "Babe, look at her. Shes just jealous that I found a real man. Shes bitter because shes alone."

Rico glared at me. "Listen, lady. Tiffanys carrying my kid. You stress her out, and youre dealing with me."

I looked at Tiffanys stomach and felt a cold, sharp satisfaction. "Fine," I said, pulling out my phone and snapping a photo of the mess.

Before I could dial, my phone rang. It was my mother.

"Claire! You ungrateful brat!" her voice wailed through the speaker. "If you report your sister to the police, Ill come down there and hang myself in front of your office! Ill tell the whole world youre a monster who tried to kill her own mother!"

"Mom, hes a thug. Hes trashing my home."

"Shut up! Hes an heir! Rico said hes buying Tiffany a villa! Youre just jealous! If you ruin this for her, I will never forgive you!"

The line went dead.

I looked at the two of them. The last thread of familial obligation finally snapped.

"Fine," I said, putting my phone away. "Stay here then."

I turned to leave.

"Wait! Where do you think you're going?" Tiffany called out. "Go to the drugstore and get me some vitamins. And Ricos hungryget some lobster and peel it for him. Don't let him get his hands dirty."

Rico laughed, sliding his hand under her shirt.

I picked up my bag. "Sure. I'll get right on that."

Downstairs in the lobby, I saw Dominics concierge. He looked at me for a moment, recognizing me from the building next door, but I kept my head down and walked out.

A group of neighborhood women were whispering as I passed.

"Is that her? The one Tiffany posted about?"

"Yeah, the one whos obsessed with the billionaire. Apparently, she knocks on his door every night."

"I saw the photos in the residents' chat. She looks so normal, but I guess you never know who the real crazies are."

I stopped and opened my phone. The neighborhood WhatsApp group was blowing up. Tiffany had used a burner account to post photos of me in my pajamas, taken from behind.

The lonely spinster in Building 8 was at it again last night, rubbing up against the CEOs door handle. So pathetic!

The comments were brutal.

My hands shook, but not from fear. From the sheer, icy heat of my rage.

Tiffany, you want to play a high-stakes game? Lets play.

I spent the night in a cheap motel and went to the office the next morning. The atmosphere was different the moment I walked in. The receptionist looked away. The laughter in the breakroom died down as soon as I entered.

Id barely sat down when the HR assistant appeared. "Claire, the CEO wants to see you."

Her eyes were full of disgust.

In the office, a stack of photos was thrown onto the desk. "Explain this," my boss barked.

I picked them up. They were poorly photoshopped, but effectivemy face spliced onto bodies in compromising positions, in clubs, and in scenes meant to suggest I was an escort.

The anonymous email sent to the company had a familiar tone: Your executive, Claire, is a high-end call girl by night. Heres the price list...

"Sir, this is a smear campaign. I can prove"

"I don't care!" he snapped. "The board is already breathing down my neck. Youre on administrative leave, effective immediately. If this turns out to be true, don't bother coming back."

I packed my desk into a single box.

As I walked out into the plaza, a bucket of red paint splashed across my front.

"Look! There she is! The gold-digger!"

Tiffany was standing there with a megaphone. Rico was beside her, livestreaming.

"This is my sister! She tried to steal my boyfriend, she owes thousands to loan sharks, and now shes trying to sell me off to pay her debts! Help me!" Tiffany wailed for the camera.

A crowd gathered. Phones were everywhere.

"Shed do that to her own sister?"

"She looks so professional, what a snake."

"Trash!"

Someone threw a water bottle at me. I wiped the stinging paint from my eyes. Rico shoved his phone in my face.

"Look at her, guys! This is what happens when you get fired for being a slut! Follow Tiffany for more updates. Lets make this bitch famous!"

The comments were a sea of death threats.

Tiffany looked at me over the megaphone. For a split second, the "victim" mask slipped, and she gave me a sharp, triumphant grin. "Claire, just admit you were wrong! Tell everyone youre sorry, and maybe Mom will take you back!"

I looked at her. I looked at the mob.

[Detection: Social rumor threshold almost reached.]

[Current count: 98/99.]

One more.

I took out my own phone, snapped a photo of Tiffany and Rico in their moment of glory, and walked away without a word.

"Yeah, run away! Coward!" Tiffany screamed.

The price for this, Tiffany, is higher than you can afford.

Three days later, my mother called.

"Get over here, you brat! Rico got us VIP passes to a gala hosted by that Dominic Thorne fellow. Were going to the penthouse tonight to see how the other half lives! Youre coming along to wait on us. Don't embarrass us!"

A gala? At Dominics?

I looked at myself in the mirror. "I'll be there," I whispered.

At 7:00 PM, I arrived at the gates of the Thorne Estate.

The driveway was a parade of Ferraris and Rolls-Royces. Tiffany, Rico, and my parents were arguing with the security guards at the entrance.

"Don't you know who I am?" Rico was shouting, his rented suit bunching at the shoulders. "Im Dominics best friend! These are my in-laws!"

The guard was unmoved. "Invitation, please."

"I told you, I forgot it! Just look at my face!"

Tiffany saw me and ran over, grabbing my arm. "Tell the guard youre the cleaning lady! Get us inside or Ill tell everyone youve got a disease!"

I looked at the wealthy guests staring at the scene, and I smiled. "Sure."

I walked up to the guard. Before I could speak, a man in a sharp tuxedoDominics personal butlerstepped forward. He looked at me, then at the loud, tacky group behind me. He stepped aside and bowed.

Tiffany, assuming it was Ricos influence, grabbed Ricos arm and strutted inside. "See? Thats what Im talking about! Status!"

Once inside the ballroom, my family was a disaster. My mother was stuffing lobster tails into her handbag. My father was trying to toast people with empty glasses. Tiffany was frantic, taking selfies against the gold-leaf pillars.

"Wait, isn't that the escort who got fired?" a voice called out. It was one of Tiffanys "influencer" friends.

The room went quiet.

Tiffany, sensing the shift, suddenly shoved me into the center of the floor.

"Im so sorry, everyone! My sister forced us to come! She told us she was Mr. Thornes secret mistress! She said she owned this place and told us to come in!" Tiffany shouted, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.

"I knew she was lying! A piece of trash like her doesn't even know a man like Dominic!"

The whispers turned into an ugly roar.

"Is she the one from the news?"

"How dare she use Mr. Thornes name?"

"Wheres security?"

Rico jumped in, pointing a finger at me. "Yeah! This crazy woman lured us here! Dominic, man, come down here and deal with this stalker!"

On the grand staircase, Dominic Thorne appeared. He was the picture of cold, distant power.

Tiffany ran to the foot of the stairs. "Mr. Thorne! This woman has been obsessing over you for months! Shes been telling everyone shes your fiance! Its disgusting! Throw her out!"

Everyone was looking at me. My mother stepped forward and slapped me across the face.

The sound rang through the hall.

"You shameless girl! Kneel down and apologize! Do you want to ruin us all?" She then turned to Dominic with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Mr. Thorne, please don't be angry. Shes nothing to us. We disown her! Do whatever you want with her!"

I touched my cheek, tasting blood. I looked at the greed in their eyes, the malice in Tiffanys, and the cold stillness of the man on the stairs.

"Here he comes," Tiffany hissed. "Hes going to personally crush you, Claire. Youre dead."

Dominic descended the stairs, his handmade oxfords clicking on the marble.

I waited.

[Ding! Detection: The rumor count has reached 100.]

[Activation condition met. Manifest the rumor: 'The Billionaire is my fianc'?]

In the silence of my heart, I whispered: Yes.

Dominic stopped in front of me.

"Mr. Thorne, give the word and Ill toss her out myself" Rico started.

Dominic ignored him. He reached out, his hand gentle as he wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth.

A look of profound, aching tenderness crossed his face.

"Im sorry," he whispered, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Im so sorry Im late."