The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend

The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend

Shore Tour

5.0
Comment(s)
2K
View
267
Chapters

I returned to New York after three years in Paris, sick and broken, with nothing but a venomous vow to reclaim my life. I looked like a total disaster in my scuffed boots and ripped jeans, a far cry from the Stanton heiress I once was. On the flight home, a glossy magazine headline hit me like a physical blow: my half-sister Aryana was celebrating a fairytale engagement while wearing my dead mother's sapphire pendant. The necklace was my only legacy, stolen by the interlopers who had usurped my place the moment I vanished. Things spiraled into a nightmare before I even landed. I accidentally spilled milk all over a powerful billionaire, Denis Stephens, and then fainted directly into his arms during turbulence. At the hospital, my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend mocked my illness, snapping photos of me looking like a "pregnant" mess to ruin my reputation. When I finally fought my way to the family manor to snatch the necklace back, my father tried to hit me, and my ex accused me of becoming a whore in Europe. I couldn't understand how my own father could freeze my bank accounts and treat me like a criminal while my sister played house with my mother's jewels. I was back in the orbit of the Manhattan elite, but I was a pariah with a target on my back and a body that was failing me. Then, the final blow came. I rear-ended a Bentley belonging to Denis Stephens-the same man I'd humiliated on the plane. With six figures in damages and zero dollars in my pocket, I was completely at his mercy. "You're going to be my date tonight," He commanded, pulling me into a high-stakes game of fake romance and cold revenge that I wasn't sure I'd survive.

The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend Chapter 1 No.1

"Just wait," she whispered to the empty seat beside her. "I'm coming for it."

The promise, a venomous vow made to the ghost of her past, was the only thing keeping her upright. The flight attendant offered a glass of champagne, the bubbles fizzing near the rim like a hollow toast to a better life. Belle Stanton ignored it. She asked for milk.

It was a foolish choice, something a child would ask for, but she craved the bland comfort, a temporary coating for the acid eating away at her stomach lining. She knew dairy was a risk, but at this point, self-destruction felt like a form of control. Her stomach felt like it was trying to digest itself. It had been doing that since she left Paris, a slow, burning churn that made her skin clammy and her hands shake. She pulled her leather jacket tighter around her chest, trying to disappear into the oversized seat of the first-class cabin. She didn't look like she belonged here. Her boots were scuffed, her jeans were ripped at the knees not by design but by wear, and her hair was a dark, tangled mess that screamed "stay away."

She glanced to her left.

The man in 2A was a statue carved out of money and indifference. He wore a suit that probably cost more than her entire existence over the last three years. He was reading a document, his pen hovering over the paper with precise, calculated intent. He hadn't looked at her once since she boarded. To him, she was just background noise, static on a radio channel he didn't listen to.

Good. She preferred invisible.

Belle took the glass of warm milk from the attendant with a muttered thanks. Her fingers trembled against the glass. She needed to calm down. She needed to stop thinking about why she was going back to New York.

To distract herself, she grabbed the copy of Tatler from the side pocket. It was trashy, glossy escapism. Just what she needed. She flipped the pages aggressively, the sharp sound of paper tearing through the quiet hum of the cabin.

Page 12.

Her hand froze.

The headline was bold, cheerful, and nauseating: Aryana Stanton's Fairytale Engagement.

Belle stared at the photo. Aryana, her half-sister, was smiling that perfect, practiced smile that fooled everyone. She was clinging to Carlton Bryan's arm like a delicate vine. But Belle wasn't looking at Aryana's face. She wasn't looking at the ring.

She was looking at Aryana's neck.

A sapphire pendant hung there. A deep, midnight blue stone surrounded by a halo of diamonds.

The air left Belle's lungs in a rush. It was a physical blow. That necklace wasn't Aryana's. It wasn't Ewart Stanton's to give. It was hers. It was the last thing her mother had worn before the cancer took her, the only piece of jewelry Belle had specifically asked to be kept in the vault until she turned twenty-five.

"Thief," Belle whispered. The word tasted like bile.

A wave of heat rolled up her spine. Her vision blurred at the edges. How dare she? How dare that interloper wear her mother's legacy while playing house with the Manhattan elite?

The plane jolted. The seatbelt sign pinged overhead.

Turbulence.

The sudden drop made Belle's stomach lurch violently. Her grip on the milk glass slipped as the jolt threw her torso slightly forward, her body a puppet to the plane's sudden movement. Her hand spasmed under the weight of her rage and the motion of the plane.

The white liquid arced through the air.

It defied gravity for a split second before splashing down. Not on the floor. Not on her own lap.

It landed squarely on the crotch of the pristine grey trousers of the man in 2A.

Time stopped.

The man didn't jump. He didn't yell. He just stopped writing. The ink from his pen bled a tiny black dot onto his document, the only sign that his world had been disturbed.

Belle stared in horror. The white stain was spreading rapidly across the expensive fabric, soaking into the most awkward, intimate place possible.

"Oh my god," she gasped.

Panic, cold and sharp, replaced her anger. She grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins from the tray table. She didn't think. She just reacted.

"I am so sorry, I-"

She lunged across the armrest, jamming the napkins onto his lap to soak up the mess.

The muscle in his thigh turned to stone under her hand.

Before she could wipe a second time, a hand clamped around her wrist. His grip was iron. It wasn't painful, but it was absolute. He stopped her hand inches from his zipper.

Belle looked up.

She found herself staring into eyes the color of a winter storm. They were cold, intelligent, and currently filled with a profound, terrifying annoyance.

"Stop," he said. His voice was low, a deep rumble that vibrated through the armrest. "Woman."

He didn't let go of her wrist. He held it there, suspended, forcing her to realize exactly where her hand was and how incredibly inappropriate this situation had become.

"I was just trying to help," Belle stammered, her face burning.

"You've done enough," he said. He released her wrist with a flick, as if touching her was unsanitary.

The head flight attendant materialized in the aisle, her face a mask of professional horror. "Mr. Stephens! Oh, I am so sorry. Let me get you a hot towel."

Mr. Stephens. The name meant nothing to Belle, but the way the crew reacted told her he was someone who could ruin careers with a phone call.

He stood up, using his suit jacket to shield the stain from the rest of the cabin. He looked down at Belle one last time. His gaze swept over her messy hair, her pale face, the leather jacket. He didn't see a Stanton heiress. He saw a disaster.

"Clean this up," he ordered the air, not looking at her again, and walked toward the lavatory with a stiff, dignified stride.

Belle sank back into her seat. She looked down at the magazine on her lap. The milk had splattered onto Aryana's face in the photo, turning the engagement picture into a soggy mess.

Good.

But the shame was burning a hole in her chest. She closed her eyes, fighting the nausea that was rising again. She had been back in New York's orbit for less than six hours and she had already assaulted a VIP and humiliated herself.

She touched the empty space at the base of her throat where the sapphire should have been.

Continue Reading

Other books by Shore Tour

More

You'll also like

The Scars She Hid From The World

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE
4.5

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

Xiao Wang
5.0

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend Shore Tour Modern
“I returned to New York after three years in Paris, sick and broken, with nothing but a venomous vow to reclaim my life. I looked like a total disaster in my scuffed boots and ripped jeans, a far cry from the Stanton heiress I once was. On the flight home, a glossy magazine headline hit me like a physical blow: my half-sister Aryana was celebrating a fairytale engagement while wearing my dead mother's sapphire pendant. The necklace was my only legacy, stolen by the interlopers who had usurped my place the moment I vanished. Things spiraled into a nightmare before I even landed. I accidentally spilled milk all over a powerful billionaire, Denis Stephens, and then fainted directly into his arms during turbulence. At the hospital, my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend mocked my illness, snapping photos of me looking like a "pregnant" mess to ruin my reputation. When I finally fought my way to the family manor to snatch the necklace back, my father tried to hit me, and my ex accused me of becoming a whore in Europe. I couldn't understand how my own father could freeze my bank accounts and treat me like a criminal while my sister played house with my mother's jewels. I was back in the orbit of the Manhattan elite, but I was a pariah with a target on my back and a body that was failing me. Then, the final blow came. I rear-ended a Bentley belonging to Denis Stephens-the same man I'd humiliated on the plane. With six figures in damages and zero dollars in my pocket, I was completely at his mercy. "You're going to be my date tonight," He commanded, pulling me into a high-stakes game of fake romance and cold revenge that I wasn't sure I'd survive.”
1

Chapter 1 No.1

22/01/2026

2

Chapter 2 No.2

22/01/2026

3

Chapter 3 No.3

22/01/2026

4

Chapter 4 No.4

22/01/2026

5

Chapter 5 No.5

22/01/2026

6

Chapter 6 No.6

22/01/2026

7

Chapter 7 No.7

22/01/2026

8

Chapter 8 No.8

22/01/2026

9

Chapter 9 No.9

22/01/2026

10

Chapter 10 No.10

22/01/2026

11

Chapter 11 No.11

22/01/2026

12

Chapter 12 No.12

22/01/2026

13

Chapter 13 No.13

22/01/2026

14

Chapter 14 No.14

22/01/2026

15

Chapter 15 No.15

22/01/2026

16

Chapter 16 No.16

22/01/2026

17

Chapter 17 No.17

22/01/2026

18

Chapter 18 No.18

22/01/2026

19

Chapter 19 No.19

22/01/2026

20

Chapter 20 No.20

22/01/2026

21

Chapter 21 No.21

22/01/2026

22

Chapter 22 No.22

22/01/2026

23

Chapter 23 No.23

22/01/2026

24

Chapter 24 No.24

22/01/2026

25

Chapter 25 No.25

22/01/2026

26

Chapter 26 No.26

22/01/2026

27

Chapter 27 No.27

22/01/2026

28

Chapter 28 No.28

22/01/2026

29

Chapter 29 No.29

22/01/2026

30

Chapter 30 No.30

22/01/2026

31

Chapter 31 No.31

22/01/2026

32

Chapter 32 No.32

22/01/2026

33

Chapter 33 No.33

22/01/2026

34

Chapter 34 No.34

22/01/2026

35

Chapter 35 No.35

22/01/2026

36

Chapter 36 No.36

22/01/2026

37

Chapter 37 No.37

22/01/2026

38

Chapter 38 No.38

22/01/2026

39

Chapter 39 No.39

22/01/2026

40

Chapter 40 No.40

22/01/2026