For eight years, I secretly dated my best friend's sister, Eleonora Chan—the powerful CEO who was my boss by day, my lover by night. I discovered the receipt for a one-of-a-kind engagement ring and followed her to a lavishly decorated venue, heart pounding. But it wasn't me she proposed to—it was a man who looked exactly like me. "Finally got your golden boy back," her friend smirked. "When will you dump the substitute?" Nora exhaled cigarette smoke lazily. "The poor boy's too in love. I'll deal with him later." That night, I texted my mother: [I'll accept the arranged marriage.] And when Nora saw my marriage license photo on her wedding day—the color drained from her face. 1 After confirming the marriage alliance with my mother, I booked the first flight out. Forcing the image of Nora’s proposal from my mind, I rushed back to the apartment we shared and threw my belongings into a suitcase. I was in the living room, grabbing my last few things, when Nora walked in, her face lit with a joy I'd never seen before. "Oh, Dustin," she sighed, wrapping her arms around me from behind. "I love you so much. Let's be together forever, okay?" She leaned in to kiss me, her breath thick with the scent of alcohol and a sharp, overpowering cologne. It was the same classic cologne she always insisted on buying for me, no matter how many times I told her I preferred the warmer, woody scent of cedar. I’d even gotten an earful from her the few times I’d forgotten to wear it. Now I understood. The man she loved, the man who wore this scent, was someone else entirely. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a replica she was crafting. A wave of disgust washed over me, and I flinched away from her touch. But the desire in her eyes didn't fade. She slammed me against the door, her cool hands already sliding under the hem of my shirt. "Nora! Get off me!" Surprise flickered in her eyes. I had never spoken to her like that. She opened her mouth to question me, but the doorbell chimed, interrupting the moment. She opened the door, and a man burst in, sweeping her into his arms and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Then he saw me, his smile a blinding, triumphant glare. "You must be Dustin," he said, his voice dripping with false cordiality. "The secretary who's been by Nora's side for eight years, right?" "Pleasure to meet you. I'm James, Nora's fiancé. Thanks for looking after her for me all these years!" The rich scent of that same cologne wafted off him, identical to the one clinging to Nora. It was suffocating. I didn't move. I just stared at her. Nora faltered for a second before her gaze slid away from mine. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice suddenly flat. "This is the junior secretary I told you about. He doesn't make much, so I let him stay in the guest room. It's convenient for when I need help with odd jobs." James waved a dismissive hand. "Nora, darling, why are you explaining again? I'm not some petty man who can't separate business from personal life. Besides," he added, his eyes scanning me up and down, "he looks so much like me. It must have been comforting for you to have him around. In a way, I should be thanking him!" He then gestured grandly towards his luggage. "Since Dustin knows the layout, perhaps he could be a dear and move my things into your room? We're getting married soon, after all. It's about time we started living together properly!" He issued the order with a beaming smile, and Nora said nothing to object. I thought of all the times I had pleaded to move into the master bedroom with her. She had always refused, insisting that couples needed their own space. Only on nights when passion overtook her would she let me stay. If I ever accidentally left so much as a sock behind, her face would cloud over, and she'd lecture me about respecting boundaries. I had always thought it was just a part of her meticulous, self-disciplined nature. But the truth was, the role of the man of the house was never meant for me. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Nora. [Babe, it's just a business arrangement with James, a sham marriage for the company. Don't misunderstand.] I almost laughed. She was still treating me like a child. Fine. If she said her marriage was fake, then it was fake. As long as mine was real. I headed towards the guest room to finish packing, but James beat me to it. "Dustin, Nora is quite attached to me, so it wouldn't be appropriate for you to stay here any longer. You should probably find your own place soon..." He trailed off as he entered the room. "Oh, you're already halfway packed? And your style... it's just like mine! What a coincidence!" A chilling coldness crept through me. Buying me clothes and watches had always been Nora's favorite way of showing affection. I once believed it was proof of her love. Now, looking at the room full of clothes and accessories that never quite suited me, I saw how perfectly they would fit James. It was I who had been the impostor all along. I didn't have the energy to confront her. But as I turned to leave, Nora grabbed my arm, her face hardening. "Why are you packing? Did something happen? Talk to me!" I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. Just then, I saw James reach for the music box on my nightstand. "Don't touch that!" I yelled. With a sickening crash, the music box shattered on the floor, its delicate lid and tiny figurines of a prince and princess scattering like broken promises. "Oh... I'm so sorry, Dustin. I didn't mean to..." James clutched his hand, a thin red line appearing on his palm. "Nora, my hand... it hurts..." Nora rushed to his side, examining the scratch as if it were a mortal wound. The next second, she whirled on me, her face a mask of fury. She stomped on the remains of the music box, grinding the delicate pieces under her heel. "It's just a stupid trinket!" she spat, her eyes burning with a terrifying rage. "Did you have to scare him like that, Dustin?!" "Get this trash out of here. I never want to see it in this house again!" With one final, vicious twist of her foot, she crushed what was left of the music box into dust. Then, supporting a whimpering James, she walked out without a backward glance. Tears splashed onto the wreckage. Shards of wood and metal bit into my fingers as I gathered the pieces, but I felt nothing. I was sixteen when my parents' marriage fell apart. Lost and alone, I’d gone to my best friend Leo's house, hoping to find him. He wasn't there, but his older sister, Nora, had just returned from a shopping trip. "Hey, kid," she'd said gently, noticing my tears. "You're Leo's friend, aren't you? What's wrong? You can tell me." I tried to leave, too embarrassed to speak, but she held me back. She shooed away her own friends and told me to wait. Then she ran out into the pouring rain and came back with an armful of cakes and pastries from the best bakery in town. She ruffled my hair and, with a conspiratorial whisper, produced a beautiful music box. As its gentle melody filled the air, the tiny prince and princess on top began to twirl. "Don't be scared, kid," she'd said, her voice a warm blanket. "No matter what anyone else does, this big sister, right here? I'll protect you for the rest of your life. I swear it on this music box." Her simple, earnest promise had captured my heart in that moment of utter despair. I had loved Eleonora Chan for ten years, from that day to this. I still remembered her vow, every word of it. But the woman who made it had long since forgotten. I cradled the handful of sharp memories for a moment longer, then tossed them into the trash. The vow, and Nora herself—I was done with them both.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393375", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel