I Said You Too and My Three Secret Lives Came Crashing Down

“She’s back. You need to leave.”
When Rhys said the words, his voice was flat, devoid of emotion. I let myself freeze for a moment.
One… two… three.
I lowered my head, my body beginning to tremble almost imperceptibly. When I looked up again, my eyes were shimmering pools of unshed tears. I bit down hard on my lip, letting the color drain from my face. My slender frame, silhouetted against the afternoon sun, seemed fragile, on the verge of collapse.
Rhys’s brow furrowed. He turned, leaned over his massive mahogany desk, and scribbled furiously on a check.
“This is for your trouble,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes. “You knew this was the deal. Isabelle is back. There’s nothing I can do.”
Jackpot.
I nearly broke character when I saw the string of zeros. I dug my nails sharply into my thigh, forcing a single, perfect tear to trace a path down my cheek. My voice trembled as I asked, “Is there really no chance for us?”
The sadness, to be fair, wasn’t entirely an act. In this economy, a golden goose this plump and this guilt-ridden was a rare find.
Rhys looked away, a flicker of pity in his eyes. He pressed the check into my hand, then pulled me into a brief, stiff hug. “You’ll find someone better,” he murmured, his voice raspy.
No, I really won’t.
The thought was immediate and certain. I’d been in this business for years. A mark this wealthy and this sentimental was practically a unicorn.
Fearing he might try for some kind of dramatic, drawn-out farewell scene, I gently pushed him away. “I understand,” I whispered, my voice thick with manufactured grief.
Without another word, I turned and walked away. I heard him call my name, but I didn’t stop.
An hour later, I was gone. My luggage was packed, and the sprawling villa held no trace that I had ever existed. I didn’t relax until the eight million dollars from the check was safely transferred into my bank account.
Then, a text from Rhys buzzed on my phone.
— Where did you go?
I could understand his concern. In his mind, I was a delicate, helpless flower, a girl who was constantly being wronged by the world, a girl who loved him beyond reason. He was probably picturing me sobbing in some cramped, lonely apartment.
The reality was slightly different.
At that moment, a team of young, handsome male masseuses was diligently working on my shoulders and feet. One was peeling grapes with long, slender fingers and feeding them to me between sips of vintage Bordeaux. I was so blissfully relaxed I couldn’t even be bothered to open my eyes, let alone reply to a text.
But then, for the next two or three days, Rhys kept calling. And texting. Over and over.
I found it… odd.
Wasn’t the ghost of his past love finally back in the flesh?
2
Ordinarily, I would have replied. As a professional girlfriend surrogate, my philosophy was always customer-centric. You never know when a client’s idealized memory might tarnish and they come looking to rent your services again.
I glanced at my studio’s financial reports and then at my swelling bank balance. With a sigh of resignation, I texted Rhys back a simple, curated message: I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.
The less you say, the more they wonder. The more you tell them not to worry, the more they do. It’s a fundamental flaw in the male psyche, and I knew exactly how to exploit it.
The next day, I opted for a bright, vibrant makeup look, baked a cake from scratch, and headed to the Wyatt Corporation headquarters.
Wyatt Hayes, one of the city’s most notorious heirs, was the epitome of the reckless playboy. His profligacy was legendary, rivaling even Rhys’s quiet wealth.
I pushed open the door to his office and found him with a young, ponytailed woman perched on his lap, the two of them tangled in an intimate embrace.
I froze.
I didn’t even have to act. A genuine wave of disappointment washed over me.
Seeing me, Wyatt panicked, shoving the woman off his lap. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Uh… Lily, why don’t you head out for a bit.”
The woman shot me a resentful glare before reluctantly leaving.
Unlike Rhys’s preference for the fragile, damsel-in-distress type, Wyatt’s ideal was the stubborn, scrappy Cinderella. So, I just stood there, my eyes downcast, silent.
“As you can see,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the empty space where the girl had been. “She looks more like Vivian did back then. We should break up.”
I counted to thirty in my head before finally whispering, “Okay.”
I sniffled, then walked quickly to his desk. My words came out in a rush, laced with a tremor, a kind of panicked energy as I carefully placed the cake box before him.
“I won’t bother you again. I know you love sweets, and I spent a long time on this cake, but…”
I lifted my head to look at him, my expression earnest, heartbroken, my voice trailing off.
“Could you… not share it with her? I made it for you…”
It was a pathetic, desperate plea. My eyes welled with tears that refused to fall as I held his gaze.
He looked flustered, grabbing a tissue and taking a step toward me.
I took a step back.
“Stella…” he sighed. “I’ll eat the cake.” He picked up his desk phone. “Liz, get the paperwork ready. Transfer the title of the downtown Park Avenue condo to Stella’s name.” He looked back at me. “It’s the only thing I can do. Please, take it. Forgive me.”
My heart skipped a beat.
The next second, I found my voice, shouting through my tears, “You think this is what I wanted?”
And with that, I fled his office, not even waiting for the elevator. I ran all the way to the fire escape.
Once inside the stairwell, out of sight, I burst out laughing.
Sorry, but this was exactly what I wanted.
3
I heard later that Wyatt actually chased after me, that he’d been searching for me everywhere.
By then, I was busy moving.
The Park Avenue condo was one of the smaller units, but it was still worth over thirty million. The sale I’d arranged wouldn’t close for another month, so I figured I’d live in it for a while.
I was so close to my goal.
My elation, however, was short-lived. That same afternoon, I was summoned to the office of Titan number three: Declan.
His voice, when he spoke, was a cool, magnetic baritone.
“We’re done.”
A spark of irritation flared through me, and before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. “You’re breaking up with me, too?!”
The moment the word left my mouth, I clapped a hand over it, wanting to smack myself.
Declan’s eyebrow arched. A dangerous chill crept into his gaze as he lifted his head. “...Too?”
My throat went dry. I couldn’t force out a single word.
I watched as he slowly removed his black suit jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. He leaned against his desk, loosening his tie with a deliberate tug. Then, he extended a hand and beckoned to me with one finger, his face a blank mask. “Come here.”
Looking at the set of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed…
He wasn’t going to hit me, was he?
That broad chest, those powerful biceps… he looked like he could end me with a couple of punches.
When I didn’t move, he started walking toward me.
I immediately backed away, stammering, “No, no, it’s not necessary. I wish you all the best, good fortune, happy breakup.”
I had almost reached the door when his foot shot out, kicking it shut. He braced one hand against the door, trapping me.
A slow, cold smile spread across his lips, but his eyes were terrifying. “Why don’t you translate for me? What, exactly, does ‘breaking up with you, too,’ mean?”
“It’s… well…” I managed a weak, awkward laugh.
“Hmm?”
“…”
“Are you two-timing me?”
I shook my head violently.
“Three-timing, then?”
I froze. The smile on his face turned to ice.
He raised his hand, and I instinctively ducked, covering my head. I started babbling, trying to explain and defend myself all at once. “I know this violates our agreement, but you were chasing your old flame, and I was just doing my job as a stand-in. It’s just a few side hustles in my spare time, that’s all! Fine, I don’t want your money, okay? Wait, no…”
My brain caught up with my mouth.
“Wait a minute, we never actually signed a contract, did we?”
The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. The middleman, old Wang, had just said he was introducing me to a similar gig, the CEO of the Hale Corporation. We’d met, things had started, but the paperwork was never finalized. I’d figured the head of a company that big wouldn’t stiff me over a few bucks, so I hadn’t pushed it.
Ha! Perfect!
My spine straightened instantly. “Break up, then. Fine. We never signed anything, so you can’t sue me for breach of contract.”
“What contract?” He frowned.
“The stand-in contract, obviously! I don’t want your money anymore. Ah, what a waste, though. All those dinners, movies, and trips over the last six months…” I trailed off, genuinely mourning the lost income.
Declan’s eyes darkened. He enunciated each word, his voice dangerously low. “Are you saying… that for the past five months, our dates, the movies, even…”
He stopped, his jaw tight.
“You did it all for money?”
The last few words were practically ground out between his teeth. He looked like he wanted to hit me again. A shiver went down my spine. “But… I’m a professional stand-in. An actress. A professional…”
He lowered his head, closing his eyes.
For a long moment, there was silence.
Then, he slammed his fist into the door right next to my head.
I saw that his eyes were red-rimmed when he looked at me again, his voice trembling slightly. “And them… did you…?”
He struggled with the words.
“I mean…”
“You and the others… did you ever… you know…”
He couldn’t finish the sentence, his meaning veiled and hesitant. But it made my heart do a strange little flutter. It was almost as if we had been in a real relationship.
“Are you talking about… sleeping with them? No. Never. I sell a performance, not my body.”
“Then that time with us…”
“All fake. A harmless, non-toxic hallucinogen.”
A wave of relief washed over his face, so potent he seemed to deflate like a balloon.
“Get out,” he said, his voice hollow.
I left, completely bewildered.
I thought that was the end of it.
Until, at a gala a few weeks later, I saw them.
The three men, dressed in starkly different suits, were sitting together, drinking.
And then, in unison, they all looked at me.
4
I wanted to run. I truly did.
Rhys, in a pristine white suit, looked elegant and coolly detached. Wyatt was in a flashy burgundy number, open at the chest, exuding a roguish charm. And Declan, tall and imposing in a classic black suit, radiated an even more intense pressure than usual.
Three of the city’s four most eligible bachelors.
Yes, they were handsome. Yes, it was a beautiful picture.
But I didn’t dare look.
I was terrified they were plotting my demise.
I took a sharp breath and turned, planning to melt into a less conspicuous corner of the ballroom.
Then I heard my name called from behind me.
“Stella.”
The voice was sharp, arrogant. It was Wyatt.
I froze, took a deep breath, and channeled my inner “stubborn Cinderella.” Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to turn back around.
To my horror, all three of them were now walking toward me.
Wyatt continued, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t chase me? Following me all the way here, huh?”
Rhys’s brow twitched. He shot Wyatt a look before turning to me. “Why didn’t you answer my calls? I was worried about you.”
I was starting to panic.
My eyes darted instinctively to Declan. His face was a mask of cold indifference. “Yes,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I’d like to know the answers to both of their questions as well.”
I stood there, stunned, for three long seconds. Then, I pressed my hand to my forehead, feigning a sudden illness. “My head hurts.”
Rhys reacted first, stepping forward and gently massaging my temples. “You can’t even take care of yourself without me. Isabelle has plans tonight. Will you be my date?”
Before I could refuse, Wyatt yanked me away. “She came here for me! Why should she be your date?”
As they started to bicker, I tried to catch Declan’s eye, desperately trying to signal him, to ask if he’d told them everything.
Instead, he spoke up, his tone leisurely. “I don’t have a date either.”
I just… stared.
The other two, having reached a stalemate, started escalating their offers.
“Stella, be my date. You can walk the red carpet with me next month. I’ll get you a custom couture gown.”
Ooh. That was tempting. My eyes lit up.
“A dress? What’s that?” Wyatt scoffed. “Stella, a red Ferrari LaFerrari. Think about it.”
My eyes got even brighter.
It was Declan’s turn. He looked at me, his expression cold and impassive. He uttered a single word.
“No.”
I mentally waved a little white flag. He was out.
“Are you all holding an auction? In that case, I offer ‘Willows and Green Mountains’ by the master painter Su Yunchuan.”
The voice was warm and clear. I immediately turned to see him.
Ethan Fang.
Great. Now the whole set was here. All four of New York’s princes.
He was also one of my targets for the evening.
I gathered my skirt, ready to glide over and give him my most dazzling introduction, when I heard Declan’s chilling voice. “Stella, you’d better choose… carefully.”
The threat was unmistakable.
My smile froze on my face. “Maybe you could add a little something to your offer? Like, some Bvlgari jewels or…”
Declan swirled the wine in his glass, shaking his head like the world’s most handsome cheapskate. “No.”
5
I was starting to suspect Declan was here purely to sabotage me.
Which is why, during our obligatory dance, I “accidentally” stepped on his feet several times.
As the orchestra played a sweeping waltz, Declan finally spoke. “What are you doing here tonight?”
“Business,” I replied curtly, my eyes scanning the room for my real target.
“Scouting for your next meal ticket?”
I couldn’t read his tone. I didn’t feel angry, but I didn’t feel like answering him either.
Declan let out a short, humorless laugh. “All that ambition and no sense.”
My head snapped toward him, my brow furrowed.
“Because I’m richer than all of them,” he explained simply.
“But you’re cheap!” I shot back, launching into a list of grievances. “On our first date, you took me to your company cafeteria. For holidays, all I got were these awful little pastries. And my Christmas gift was corporate swag with the Hale logo on it!”
I continued, “Rhys gave me a six-figure credit card right at the start, and Wyatt just gave me a condo downtown…”
Declan’s face grew darker and darker.
He cut me off before I could finish. “Do you really want to be discussing your three-timing ways in the middle of a crowded ballroom?”
I clamped my mouth shut.
Then I lowered my voice, defending myself in a whisper. “Don’t spread rumors. I was a perfectly legitimate contract stand-in. I just took on a few extra clients…”
I sighed dramatically. “You capitalists will never understand the struggles of us common folk…”
As I spoke, I caught a glimpse of Ethan leaving the room. My heart leaped.
I pushed away from Declan. “I have to go to the restroom.”
Without a second thought, I hurried after him, completely missing the sudden, predatory glint in Declan’s eyes.
6
The meeting was a resounding success.
Even in a place as unglamorous as a public restroom hallway, Ethan’s refined, aristocratic air was undeniable. It took all my willpower to suppress my giddy excitement.
But as I rounded a corner…
I was slammed violently against the wall.
Declan’s pupils were so dark I couldn’t read the emotion in them, but his hands trembled with rage, and his face was a thundercloud. I felt the ghost of his fingertips trail across my neck, making me flinch.
Then his husky voice was right beside my ear.
“If you’re going to be a gold-digger, you might as well dig in my backyard. Hmm?”
The last syllable curled upwards, his breath warm against my skin.
For a split second, something exploded in my brain, and my face flushed hot.
I couldn’t help it. The leading man was just too handsome. The leading lady was losing control. The air crackled with a romantic, cinematic tension.
And in the next moment…
Declan was knocked to the ground by a single punch.
And I, elegant and beautiful in my midnight-blue gown… ended up on the floor with a bruised tailbone from trying to break up a fight between two grown men.
7
It’s not that Wyatt was deeply in love with me. It was more likely his possessive streak acting up. But his little outburst was enough to snap me back to reality.
“Look, whatever. The three of us are done,” I announced, getting to my feet. “I’m just a struggling actress trying to make a living. I’m begging you, leave me alone.”
I glared at them both. “If you’re going to fight, wait until I’m gone.”
With that, I clutched my aching backside and limped away as fast as I could.
When I got to the entrance, there wasn’t a single taxi in sight. Just a familiar black Bentley.
I glanced back and saw the two of them heading for the door. Gritting my teeth, I made a decision and hurried to the car.
“Driver, let’s go, quick!” I said, sliding into the back seat.
The second I sat down, I realized the space felt cramped, the atmosphere… awkward.
Rhys was leaning over, fastening a necklace around the throat of a beautiful woman beside him. I had just plopped down right where his ass had been. The posture was mortifying.
The delicate beauty saw me and, with an understanding look, immediately scooted over to make room.
She and I looked about seventy percent alike.
I understood instantly.
I offered a sycophantic smile. “Mr. Davies, could we maybe get going?”
Rhys looked at me, then at the two men approaching the car, a strange smile playing on his lips. “They’re old friends. We should say hello.”
Friends my ass!
I immediately reached for the door handle, but Rhys stopped me.
I was so frustrated I could have laughed. I really should have checked my horoscope before leaving the house today.
“Rhys, my man! Quite the party you’ve got in here,” Wyatt drawled, his smile not reaching his eyes.
Rhys’s lips curled. “You flatter me.”
Declan, however, was looking straight at me. “So this is your choice?”
I had only one option…
I turned to the beautiful woman. “Oh! You must be Isabelle, right? Your dress is gorgeous! Who’s the designer? And your makeup is flawless! Your skin is amazing. Mine just can’t handle late nights. Do you have any skincare products or a spa you’d recommend?”
The words tumbled out of me at lightning speed as I slowly pressed the button to raise the window.
The second it was fully closed, I yelled at the front seat, “Driver, everyone’s here! Let’s go!”
8
The car peeled away from the curb. Rhys’s smile vanished, replaced by a scrutinizing look.
“How do you know them?”
I tilted my head toward him, then leaned forward again, focusing on Isabelle. “So, what did you study abroad? Are you thinking of getting into the entertainment industry now that you’re back?”
Rhys’s patience wore out. “Stella.”
“Thanks, you can just drop me off up ahead.”
Suddenly, he grabbed my hand.
I tried to pull away instantly. “Mr. Davies, we’ve already broken… our contract is over. You don’t want to make Isabelle jealous!”
“She’s my sister.”
“…”
“So you two… you guys… ah… that’s pretty… exciting, huh?”
I don’t know if it was the unquenchable fire of gossip burning in my eyes or if Rhys had just reached his limit, but I was promptly kicked out of the car.
The moon was bright, the stars faint. I was standing beside a vast, empty field. There were no cars in sight. I might have to walk all night.
But my mood was strangely calm, almost cheerful.
It was all over. My dream could finally begin.
A pair of high beams lit up the road behind me. I couldn’t see anything, so I moved to the side of the road.
A black Bugatti, its lights now dimmed, pulled up beside me.
“Get in.”
His gaze was intense.
It was Declan.
I couldn’t figure out what he wanted, and frankly, his physique still intimidated me, so I obediently got in the car.
When I gave him the address, he looked surprised for a moment, then his expression reverted to its usual cold mask.
When we arrived downstairs, I gave a formal bow. “Thank you, Mr. Hale. I appreciate the ride.”
Declan didn’t say anything, but he followed me into the elevator.
A sense of panic began to set in.
“Um, you can just drop me here. Thanks. You don’t need to come up. The building is very secure.”
“Don’t come any closer. Stop following me. If you keep this up, I’m calling the police!”
I walked faster, trying to get to my door first so I could slip inside and lock him out.
I turned around and saw…
He was unlocking the door to the apartment next to mine.
You have got to be kidding me.
So much for burying the hatchet.
Wait a second… does this mean Declan and Wyatt have something going on? They even bought condos next to each other?!

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