The moment I sent the message, the chat box went quiet.
At the same time, more comments flashed before my eyes.
[This imposter is too greedy, trying to become a kept woman from day one.]
[Too bad this guy hates greedy women. He likes ambitious girls.]
[Just wait, he's not going to reply. He despises people like this.]
A knot of panic tightened in my chest. I quickly typed out another message: [What I mean is, I want to drop out to study for the SATs again. Could you help me with that?]
Seconds ticked by. I stared at the screen, my palms sweating. One minute. Two minutes.
Just as I started to worry that he had figured out I wasn't who I said I was and would never reply again, a new message popped up: [I can.]
The day after I received that message, I got a phone call. The man on the phone introduced himself as Miles Thorne, Mr. Vaughn's assistant. He asked me to bring my ID and meet him at a high-end coffee shop near campus to discuss my plan to retake the SAT.
Even though Brielle had never revealed any personal information during their chats, I was a nervous wreck the whole way there. I only relaxed a little when I saw Miles—a man in his thirties, looking sharp and professional in a tailored suit and glasses.
Miles got straight to the point. He said Mr. Vaughn had arranged everything: the top SAT tutoring team in the country, a luxury apartment for me in Northwood's Waterfront District during my studies, and all the test prep materials and courses he could find.
I was stunned. "Isn't this... a little much?"
Miles smiled politely. "Mr. Vaughn's instructions were: 'Fulfill her every need.'"
I nearly burst into tears right there. No one had ever done anything like this for me. When I failed to get into a good university the first time, my parents barely did anything—they just sent me to the cheapest community college they could find on the outskirts of Northwood.
Miles handed me a stack of documents to sign: a lease for a furnished apartment and registration forms for the tutoring center, along with a thick binder of course materials. I signed every single one.
Before I left, Miles added, "Mr. Vaughn is currently overseeing a merger in Europe. He won't be back in the US for at least a year."
I secretly searched for the name online.
Miles had made it sound like some small-time operation, but when the words "Vaughn Sterling Holdings" filled my screen, I was floored. Small-time? He had to be kidding me.
Callum was worth more than all the rich kids Brielle had ever dated combined. And that face? More handsome than any celebrity.
[It's over, now this fraud knows his real identity, she'll never let go.]
[Back off, you fraud! That man is Brielle's!]
[Don't worry, everyone. As soon as he finds out she's not Brielle, he'll cut her off completely.]
The words "cut her off" snapped me back to reality. Callum would come back for Brielle one day, that was certain. But until then? I was going to be the perfect online girlfriend. I was going to treat Callum as my own personal sugar daddy.
