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Billionaire's Placeholder: Now Watch Me Shine

Billionaire's Placeholder: Now Watch Me Shine

Author: HOLLY HUNT
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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 866    |    Released on: 20/01/2026

of his silk tie. The morning light of Manhattan filtered through the blinds, casting cold, slat-like shadows across the minimalist bedro

ver her but didn't actually see her. He saw the silk robe he bought

wasn't a discussion. It was a not

kin of his neck. She felt his pulse, steady and slow. He didn't lean into her touch. He

d half an octave higher than her natural register. I

d from his suit pocket and placed it on the marble nigh

" he said. "Don't call u

ring in the air for exactly three seconds before the heavy oak door clicked shut. She liste

i

opened a

her jaw ache. She let out a breath that had been trapped in her lungs for two years. The silence in th

card. No limit. It was an apology for his absence, or maybe a payment for he

zed on the be

xt read. The gala is next

ack with on

call. She wasn't in the mood to be yelled a

e looked at the woman in the mirror. Nude lipstick. Subtle blush. P

crubbing hard. She rubbed until her skin turned red, until the expensive foundatio

ain. Not Zack this

FK. The Woman Who Almost

l jolt, like missing a step on a staircase. She gripped th

nal was back. The placehol

ed from her chin. For the first time in months,

as a single, unmarked Blu-ray disc and a notebook filled with her character analysis for White Poplar. The final cut. Her secret weapon.

nd a worn-out t-shirt. The fabric was roug

n the wall. Next Wednesday.

over the keyboard. She didn't search for shoes or handbags. She

new tab. Penalty

rs of electricity burning in the dark. Brittain Austin owned a si

set. She didn't pack the diamonds. She didn't pack the coutur

the black card

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Billionaire's Placeholder: Now Watch Me Shine
Billionaire's Placeholder: Now Watch Me Shine
“For two years, I was the perfect shadow of another woman. I wore the silk robes Brittain Austin bought, styled my hair exactly how he liked, and spoke in a voice pitched half an octave higher than my own. I was a placeholder, a living statue in a minimalist Manhattan penthouse, waiting for a man who looked at me but never actually saw me. Everything shattered when a news alert flashed on my phone: "Caryn Newman Spotted at JFK." The original was back. The woman I was hired to mimic had returned to claim her throne, and my secret two-year contract as her stand-in was set to expire in three days. Brittain didn't even give me the courtesy of a phone call. While he was supposed to be on a business trip, photos surfaced of him shielding Caryn from the paparazzi, his hand on her waist with a tenderness he never showed me. When I walked into his office to return his keys, he didn't look guilty; he just looked annoyed. He pulled out a checkbook and asked, "How much for the hurt feelings?" When I refused his money, he coldly ordered his assistant to freeze every one of my accounts before I even reached the elevator. I stood on the sidewalk with zero dollars, realizing that to him, I wasn't a partner-I was just an expired lease. I had spent two years erasing my soul to fit into his world, only to be tossed out like trash the moment the real thing came home. But Brittain forgot one thing: before I was his doll, I was an actress. I pulled my secret weapon from under the bed-a notebook and a raw film cut he never knew existed. I called my agent and launched a high-profile "showmance" with my co-star that set the internet on fire. As I blocked Brittain's number and moved into a dusty apartment in Queens, I realized the show wasn't over. For the first time, I was the leading lady.”