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Billionaire's Placeholder: Now Watch Me Shine

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 583    |    Released on: 20/01/2026

ies. The turnstile clicked, a rusty, mech

o the metal pole, her body swaying with the train. Across from her, a teena

locks to a brownstone that had seen bette

ater, the

stairs. Her le

t with a hole in the shoulder. Tubes. Her childhood friend. The only p

He looked at her red

t the office

f her heels. She groaned as

d him,"

turned around and walked to his tiny kitchen. He came b

ured the wine to the brim

he wine was sour and room temperature. It

y sofa. She curled

id. Her voice cracked. "But Tu

y crying she did in movies. Ugly

ust acting. I wanted him to love

e rested his head on her knee. He did

tears stopped. Sh

hers. He couldn't touch this. This was the money from White Poplar, deposited into a pr

trash TV," Tu

eality show where people married stran

DM from B

ou're a free a

the screen.

o put o

tantly. Always. F

arted following Cara Clay. The n

pstick. She washed off the mascara. She looked at h

ara," she

bes was asleep, snoring softly. She

erent life. A life where she was the ma

alled her. She woke up w

yelled. "Brady just lik

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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.”