Chapter 1

Aubrey's POV

I nervously adjusted the champagne flute in my hands at the penthouse ballroom of Chicago's finest hotel, stealing glances at Connor Blake beside me. Tonight's real estate summit gala was the first time he'd officially brought me to such an event.

This has to be a good sign, right? My heart raced with excitement.

"Connor, thank you for bringing me here," I whispered expectantly.

Connor didn't even turn around, engrossed in conversation with several business elites. "You're my woman, of course I'd bring you to see this world."

My woman... The words made my cheeks flush. Three years. Three whole years since college graduation, and I'd been by his side through it all.

I remembered that rainy night when drunk men cornered me in a campus alley. Connor Blake appeared like a god, dispatching them effortlessly. Standing under the streetlight with rain cascading down his perfect features, my heart was no longer my own.

"Are you okay?" His voice had been so gentle it melted me.

"Thank you..." I'd trembled, unsure if from fear or his presence.

A week later, he appeared before me again. That look of fascination made me believe fate had finally smiled upon an ordinary girl like me.

"Be my woman," he'd said directly. "I'll give you everything you want."

I'd agreed without hesitation, believing that fascination was mine alone.

Now, three years later, I finally stood beside him as his woman at high society gatherings. Maybe this means our relationship is finally moving forward? Maybe he's ready to make us official?

But then commotion erupted at the ballroom entrance.

"Oh my God, it's Evelyn Carter! She's back!"

"Evelyn Carter? The genius who won countless international architecture awards in Europe?"

"Didn't she swear never to return to Chicago? Why is she suddenly back?"

I turned toward the voices, and my heart stopped beating.

A tall, elegant woman glided into the ballroom wearing a silver-gray silk gown, her commanding presence drawing every eye in the room.

Then I froze. No... this can't be...

That face... bore a striking resemblance to mine. Same bone structure, same eye shape, only more refined, more aristocratic—like an upgraded version of me.

Connor's champagne glass nearly slipped from his hand. "Evelyn..."

My heart plummeted as a terrible realization began forming.

Evelyn Carter walked straight to Connor and embraced him publicly.

"Connor, I'm back," Evelyn smiled. "Do you remember our promise?"

What promise? Blood rushed to my head. In three years, he never mentioned any promise to me.

Connor stood rigid, his expression complex. "Evelyn... why did you come back?"

"Aren't you happy to see me?" Evelyn laughed lightly. "We agreed to transform this city together. And... other promises."

Other promises... Watching their interaction, seeing that face so similar yet more perfect than mine, I understood everything.

So his fascination three years ago wasn't because I was special—it was because I looked like HER.

I was just a substitute. A cheap substitute.

The guests began whispering:

"So Connor Blake was waiting for Evelyn Carter to return..."

"Who's that girl then? A temporary date?"

"She does look similar. No wonder Connor chose her."

"Looks like a knockoff to me."

Knockoff... The words pierced my heart like daggers. I gripped my champagne flute until my knuckles turned white. Three years of what I thought was devotion was just his longing for another woman.

When Connor was called away by investors, Evelyn's gaze finally turned to me. Seeing my face clearly, knowing amusement flashed in her eyes, followed by undisguised contempt.

She knows. She's always known about my existence, known I was just her substitute.

"What did you mean by that?" I approached Evelyn, my voice trembling. "What promise?"

Evelyn elegantly sipped her champagne, looking me up and down. "You didn't actually think Connor would marry YOU, did you? Darling, look at that face—you should know your place."

"I don't understand what you're saying." Anger began burning inside me, mixed with fear.

"Don't understand?" Evelyn set down her glass with a mocking smile. "Let me be more direct. Connor and I grew up together—we're childhood sweethearts. Three years ago when I went to Europe for my career, we promised that when I succeeded, I'd return and we'd get married."

No... no...

"Why do you think Connor chose you?" she continued cruelly. "Because of that cheap imitation face? He just needed a substitute to fill the void while I was gone."

Her words completely shattered my sanity.

Imitation. Three years of devotion, three years of companionship—just a cheap imitation in her eyes.

SPLASH!

I threw my champagne directly into Evelyn's face, staining her silver gown dark.

"How DARE you splash me!" Evelyn shrieked, lunging at me.

We instantly grappled together, my evening gown tearing as I yanked at her hair. Guests surrounded us, phone cameras flashing as chaos erupted.

"STOP!" Connor's roar echoed through the ballroom.

He rushed over, forcibly separating us. But his first instinct wasn't to check my injuries—he steadied Evelyn.

Just like the hero's rescue three years ago, except this time, I wasn't the one being saved.

"Aubrey Sterling! What are you DOING?" Connor's eyes blazed with fury. "Apologize to Evelyn immediately!"

I felt the world spinning, everything shaking. I watched Connor carefully fix Evelyn's hair, saw the concern in his eyes, felt everyone's mocking stares.

Three years. Three whole years thinking I was the only one in his heart, when I was just a substitute.

"Connor..." I said weakly, "Choose. Her or me?"

The question silenced the entire ballroom. Everyone waited for Connor Blake's answer.

Connor looked at expectant Evelyn, then at battered me, remaining silent.

"Evelyn just returned home. You shouldn't treat her this way."

Those few words sentenced our three-year relationship to death.

I felt my heart being brutally torn apart, breathing becoming difficult. Finally, I understood my place in his heart. These three years of companionship became worthless the moment his true love returned.

"I understand," I said, my voice eerily hollow.

I slowly turned toward the exit.

"Aubrey, let's go home and talk..." Connor's voice carried panic as he reached for my wrist.

CRACK!

I violently tore off my pearl necklace and hurled it at his face with all my strength. Pearls scattered across the floor, their crisp impacts echoing in the dead-silent ballroom.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Connor Blake, three years! THREE WHOLE YEARS! I finally see your true face!"

The ballroom fell into deathly silence again. Everyone stared—some with pity, some with schadenfreude, some with shock—but I didn't care anymore.

Then I held my head high and stormed toward the exit.

I wouldn't cry, not here, not in front of these people.

But when the elevator doors closed, I finally broke down. Tears poured out like a burst dam, blurring my vision.

The reflection showed me disheveled—torn dress, tangled hair. I finally saw reality: I was nothing but a shadow of another woman in Connor's heart, and when the real owner returned, the shadow was ruthlessly discarded.