Faking It with the Heir

I was the canary raised specifically by Harrison to keep his wild younger brother in check. My job was to use love to control Ryder.

To stop him from street racing, getting into brawls, and sleeping around. It worked perfectly for a long time. Naturally, I was happily collecting two paychecks.

Until the day I forced my eyes to turn red, gripping his leather motorcycle jacket tight. "Ryder, don't race tonight.

It's too dangerous…" Ryder just lazily pulled out a cigarette. "Relax. Your man always wins." A bad feeling hit me. I turned my head and saw the trophy for tonight's race.

A girl in a cheap white sundress, looking exactly like I did when I first arrived, backed against the hood of a race car by a group of thugs. Shit. My double salary is gone.

I stayed dead silent, unlocked my phone, and texted my resignation letter to Ryder's older brother. Chapter 1 Ryder was a total menace.

His daily routine included, but wasn't limited to: Crashing his sports cars. Beating the heirs of rival families into the ICU.

Sleeping with so many girls they started tearing each other's hair out, eventually crying to his family.

Thanks to Ryder's endless track record, he was constantly trending online, tanking the family's stock prices. That was why a secretary dragged me in front of Harrison.

Harrison sat deep in a leather sofa, his long legs crossed.

His cold eyes swept over me, evaluating me like a piece of haute couture. "She's the prettiest one at the club," the secretary said respectfully.

A long, suffocating silence filled the room. Harrison finally looked away. His long fingers grabbed a pen and quickly filled out a check. The secretary handed it to me.

I stared at the string of zeros. I paused.

Then, I flicked the check with my fingernail, my lips curling into a bold smirk. "What, is the great heir trying to buy me out?" "It's for the younger Mr.

Ryder," the secretary quickly explained. Then came the rules. Ryder liked girls with long hair who wore white dresses. He hated girls with sharp edges or anyone who talked back.

He responded to softness, never force. Once the secretary finished, Harrison spoke his first words.

His tone was pure ice. "You get this exact amount wired to your bank account every month." His aggressive cedar cologne filled the room, but it couldn't mask the sweet, intoxicating scent of money radiating from this deal.

He was absolutely certain I wouldn't refuse. I gripped the check. After a beat, I flashed Harrison a bright, flawless smile. "Deal." He was right. I definitely wouldn't refuse.

Later, I was dropped right into Ryder's path. The third time he played the hero and pulled me out of trouble, he looked down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, look at us.

Fate keeps pushing us together." I ducked my head, playing the timid victim. "I'm sorry. I caused you trouble again." Ryder clicked his tongue.

He reached out, his fingers hooking a strand of hair by my cheek. "Being this pretty isn't always a blessing.

Why do you always let people walk all over you?" The night wind caught the hem of my white dress. It whipped my long hair gently around my face.

I forced my eyes to well up with tears. After a long moment, I gave a soft nod. "I'm… used to it. It's been like this my whole life." Ryder froze.

His rough thumb brushed against the skin of my neck, sending a sharp shiver down my spine.

A group of his friends stumbled out of the bar, scanning the dark street until they spotted him. "Ryder!

What are you doing out here in the alley?" One of them looked me up and down, a filthy grin on his face. He reached out to touch my cheek. "Where'd you find this fresh meat?

She's gorgeous." Ryder slapped the guy's hand away. His jaw tightened. "Back off." The others instantly stepped in to smooth things over. "Are you blind?

A girl that pretty obviously belongs to Ryder." They nervously backed away. I let a tear spill over my lashes and grabbed the edge of Ryder's sleeve. He didn't pull away.

I looked up, locking eyes with him, playing the desperate wreck. "Because… because you were here, they didn't dare touch me." Ryder curled his finger and wiped the tear from my eye.

My eyelashes fluttered. I pushed my luck. "Do… do you have a girlfriend?" The night air was freezing. I shivered, curling in on myself.

Ryder leaned down and effortlessly scooped me up into his arms. "Not right now," he said casually. "And I don't plan on ever having one." I stared up at him, wideeyed and dumb.

Ryder carried me straight to his sports car parked at the end of the street. People were staring. I buried my face in his chest, acting totally overwhelmed. "That's okay.

I… I can do this without a title." It was exactly what he expected to hear. After all, to him, a young girl's love and desperate need were completely obvious.

Ryder gave a lazy smirk. He dropped me into the passenger seat, leaned over, and claimed my lips. "Done." Chapter 2 Everything went perfectly, exactly according to plan.

In everyone's eyes, I was just a beautiful, gentle girl who knew nothing about Ryder's billionaire background, a girl who simply loved him for him.

I loved him so much I was constantly sick with worry. I begged him not to street race or get into fights, terrified he'd get hurt.

I couldn't stand other girls near him because I was just so obsessed with him and terrified he'd fall for someone else. But I didn't have a ring on my finger.

I couldn't throw a real tantrum. I could only cry and beg him like a pathetic little mouse. Luckily, Ryder actually liked me. The second the tears hit my cheeks, he caved.

He kept his nose clean for a long time, shocking everyone in his circle. We spent our days shopping, watching movies, traveling, snapping photos, and tearing up the sheets.

His boys swore he was finally tamed. Harrison must have been pleased, too, because he tripled my monthly wire.

I became Ryder's spoiled little canary, pampered and held tight in the palm of his hand. In the eyes of high society, I was the undisputed top candidate to become the future Mrs.

Ryder. But I knew one thing with absolute certainty: Harrison would never let a golddigging bottle server marry into his elite family.

It didn't matter that Harrison was the one who pulled me out of the club on my very first day.

To these billionaires, just letting me breathe the same air in their inner circle was the ultimate honor. I couldn't ask for more. I didn't deserve more.

That was how Harrison saw it. That was how Ryder saw it, too. Which brought me back to right now. I forced my eyes to well up, pleading with Ryder not to race.

He just lazily pulled out a cigarette. "Relax. Your man always wins." Except for when we were in bed, this was the first time he had ever told me no.

I stared at him, my eyes rimming red. "Ryder." He didn't even glance back. He crushed the cigarette out and strode straight toward the black sports car he hadn't touched in months.

His broad shoulders cut a sharp silhouette in the night. The crowd whistled, their adrenaline spiking. It was Ryder's first race in a year. A cold, sinking feeling hit my stomach.

I slowly turned my head. A girl in a cheap white sundress was being hauled by a few guys onto the winner's podium. She lowered her eyes, trembling, radiating pure vulnerability.

At that moment, my chest went completely hollow.

A rich heiress next to me shot me a sideways glance, picking at her manicured nails. "You were sick a few days ago and didn't go to the club with Ryder.

That girl was a bottle server there. Some guys were harassing her, and Ryder stepped in to play hero." I blinked slowly. The information clicked into place.

Over the next ten seconds, my brain rapidly calculated the variables. Did Harrison find a new, upgraded canary for his brother? No. Impossible.

Harrison was too meticulous to pull something that sloppy. Plus… the girl looked terrified, but there was a raw, stubborn edge to her. She wasn't faking it like I did.

I let out a soft sigh and tilted my head up at the night sky, playing the tragic heartbroken girlfriend. Tears pooled in my eyes, purely out of muscle memory.

I'd faked it so many times my tear ducts were on autopilot. But I actually was crushed. My double salary was officially history.

The heiress sneered at my performance. "You really forgot your place, didn't you? This was bound to happen sooner or later." I didn't say a word.

I pulled out my phone and tapped open the browser. [Search: How to write a professional resignation letter.] It needed to be official, yet deeply emotional—just enough to milk one final, massive payout from Harrison.

After all, I had worked my ass off for this job. Chapter 3 Ryder won. But another heir's car spun out of control and crashed.

Chaos erupted across the track until the wail of approaching sirens cut through the night. No one had the guts to point a finger at Ryder.

Instead, they turned their panic on the girl. "If Jasper doesn't make it, you're dead! Just you wait." The girl stumbled back, her small frame violently trembling.

Ryder shoved the girl behind his broad frame.

His muscles coiled tight under his shirt as he glared down the crowd. "I dare you to lay a single finger on her." I stared at the two of them for a few seconds.

Then, I walked over, slipped Ryder's jacket off my shoulders, and draped it carefully over the girl. "It's freezing tonight," I said, my voice perfectly soft. "Don't catch a cold." Meeting Ryder's searching gaze, I offered a gentle, flawless smile. "It was on a night exactly like this when you saved me, too." The girl stared at me, dumbfounded.

Then, she looked up at Ryder. "Mr. Ryder, who is she…" Ryder didn't answer. He just lowered his eyes, his gaze locked onto me.

Under the weight of his stare, I couldn't hold the fake smile anymore. I let the corners of my mouth pull down into a bitter, tight line.

After all, with a disaster like this, Harrison was definitely going to slash my paycheck for the month. Forget about a severance package. Whatever. Let him dock it.

I've hoarded enough cash anyway. Wait. What if he held me legally responsible?! A violent shudder ripped through me. The more I thought about it, the more realistic it seemed.

My face physically crumbled, panic bleeding through my carefully crafted mask. The girl nervously clutched the hem of Ryder's shirt. "What's… what's wrong with her?

Does she hate me…" Ryder finally tore his eyes away from my face. His voice dropped into a low, soothing hum as he comforted the girl. "No.

Don't be scared." I turned and walked away, letting my shoulders slump like a woman entirely broken. A dozen pairs of eyes burned into my back, eagerly watching the drama unfold.

Nobody expected my reign as the untouchable girlfriend to end so fast. Ryder didn't chase after me.

The girl had broken out in a cold sweat from the shock, so Ryder ordered his guys to take her inside to change. Actually, I was covered in a cold sweat, too.

I pulled out my phone, my clammy palms smearing the screen.

I wiped the glass on the edge of my skirt, opened my email app, and aggressively hit send on the resignation letter I had drafted for Harrison.

The wording was pure corporate perfection. It highlighted my relentless dedication to the role while pouring on the gratitude to Harrison for the opportunity.

I need to sever ties before the lawsuits start flying.

Right at that moment, my screen flashed with a call from the manager at the club. "Cleo, do you have time to swing by tomorrow?

You left some stuff in your old locker." I blinked, the memory slowly clicking into place. "Yeah, sure." I hung up, hailed a cab, and headed straight to the secret apartment I bought with my own cash.

To maintain flawless skin and perfect energy levels around Ryder, I rarely ever stayed up late. Now that the act was over, my entire body went slack.

I popped the SIM card out of my phone, curled up in bed, and doomscrolled until the sun came up.

I slept straight through the day, finally rolling out of bed when the sky went dark.

I snapped a new burner SIM into my phone, threw on an oversized tshirt, some gym shorts, and slide sandals. With zero makeup on my face, I headed out to the club.

I hadn't felt this relaxed in months. The manager froze for a second when she saw my bare face and sloppy clothes, but she didn't ask questions.

She just led me to the back to grab my things.

I grabbed my bag, waved goodbye, and was just about to turn around when a painfully familiar voice cut through the hallway. "This the place?" The deep, lazy drawl sent a spike of adrenaline straight into my blood.

A girl's soft voice murmured a yes. The guys trailing behind them muttered in awe. "Ryder is too good. Coming all the way here to play hero and back her up.

Whoever messed with her is absolutely screwed." Ryder looked directly at the manager. "Bring out everyone who worked the floor with her." I silently fished a surgical mask out of my pocket, hooked it over my ears, and kept my head down, sprinting toward the side exit. "Cleo?" Someone gasped.

Chapter 4 You've got to be kidding me. How did they recognize me? I roughly dragged a hand through my messy hair and shook my head. The manager caught my panic.

She stepped up smoothly, pasting on a flawless smile. "Who? Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, let me show you to your VIP booth." A wave of pure gratitude washed over me.

Then, a vicelike grip clamped down on my wrist. Ryder's voice cut through the extravagant lobby, vibrating with absolute authority. "Look up.

Take off the mask." My entire body locked up. I didn't move a muscle, burning holes into the marble floor, playing completely deaf. A suffocating silence blanketed the lobby.

Until a fragile, whimpering voice broke the tension. "Ryder, my stomach hurts." A few agonizing seconds ticked by. Ryder finally ripped his hand away and strode toward the girl.

I forced my legs to move, walking out step by agonizing step, my nerves pulled wiretaut. I was terrified he'd drag me back into his twisted drama.

It wasn't until I collapsed into the back of a cab that reality hit me. The aggressive cedar scent that usually clung to Ryder was gone.

It had been completely replaced by a cheap, faint floral perfume. They had been together for a long time… long enough for her scent to bleed onto him.

For the next few days, my existence revolved entirely around eating, sleeping, gaming, and bingewatching trash TV.

Honestly, every single second I spent glued to Ryder required a massive, exhausting amount of energy to fake my personality.

I knew with absolute certainty that Ryder would despise the real me. I hated white sundresses. I hated pretentious fine dining. I hated torturing my feet in designer heels.

I wasn't his perfect little canary. So right now? My life was absolute heaven. I was finally shaking off the sting of losing my cash cow.

Until a hardcore doomscrolling session slammed me with the breaking news: Jasper was in critical condition.

The media was tearing Ryder apart, painting him as a lawless, unhinged trustfund brat, demanding the elite family take accountability for their monster. I let out a knowing breath.

Looked like Harrison's PR team couldn't bury this one. After all, I'd heard the guy who crashed was Jasper's family's only heir.

The old couple had him late in life; he was their untouchable golden boy. A total bloodbath had erupted over the last few days.

I gloated a little, practically seeing Harrison drowning in the fallout of his brother's mess. Until the mess spilled onto me. My smugness vanished.

I literally just walked out of my building to buy a watermelon, only to be ambushed by a squad of bodyguards who had clearly been waiting.

They dragged me straight to Harrison's corner office. Maybe it was just my imagination.

But the climate control in Harrison's penthouse office felt ten degrees colder than my last visit. He didn't look exhausted or stressed like I pictured.

He sat there, an impenetrable fortress of ice. "It's been a while, Cleo." I swallowed hard, offering a guilty, quiet response. "Harrison." This time, the massive office was entirely empty.

Just me and him. "You seem to have forgotten the terms of our agreement." Harrison tilted his jaw slightly, his pitchblack eyes pinning me down.

I forced a dry laugh. "Ryder fell for someone else. He wanted to play knight in shining armor for his new girl. My hands were tied." Harrison didn't say a word.

He just stared at me with the crushing, suffocating weight of a billionaire looking at a peasant. The air turned to lead.

After a painfully long silence, I spoke up, keeping my voice cautious. "You can just hire her to handle him.

I guarantee he'll listen to her over me right now." Harrison's lip twitched. "Not everyone is like you. Willing to do anything just for money." I flinched.

My immediate instinct was that he was insulting me. But his tone was totally flat, devoid of any judgment. He was just stating an objective fact.

Clearly, he had already approached the girl, and she had rejected his cash. "So, why am I here?" I pressed my lips together.

Chapter 5 Harrison lifted his heavy eyelids, taking his time to sweep his gaze over me. "Jasper," he finally said, his voice flat. "He specifically requested you as his personal caretaker." A caretaker?

Me? The words slipped out before I could stop them. "Does Ryder know?" It was a blatant slap in the face—to me, and to Ryder.

Even if Ryder didn't give a damn about me anymore, he would never sign off on this. "I am your employer." Harrison rapped his knuckles against the mahogany desk, snapping the verdict like a judge's gavel.

Right. Ryder had no clue. Harrison was throwing me to the wolves to extinguish Jasper's wrath and pacify his elite family. I let out a dry breath. "Did you miss my email?

I quit, Harrison." The massive office went dead silent. I lifted my chin and met Harrison's pitchblack stare without blinking. "But I can always come out of retirement.

It's just a change in position." The implication hung heavy in the freezing air: Show me the money. Jasper thought this demand was humiliating, but honestly? It didn't faze me.

Being a glorified nurse was a hell of a lot more respectable than being a billionaire's pet canary. Harrison's expression remained completely unreadable as he held my gaze.

After a long, agonizing minute, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

He ripped a blank check from his book, slammed it on the desk, and slid it toward me. "Fill in the number yourself." A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat.

Part of me envied Ryder—no matter what he destroyed, there was always a blank check waiting to clean it up. The other part realized just how deep in the dirt he was this time.

I happily grabbed the pen and dragged a long, beautiful string of zeros across the paper. I knocked on the heavy hospital door.

A lazy drawl drifted from inside. "Enter." I pushed the door open. Jasper was lounging against the elevated bed, his left arm wrapped in a thick cast.

An indie film played silently on the massive flat screen. Except for his pale skin and bloodless lips, the guy looked like he was soaking up the sun on a private beach.

But from the time I spent trailing behind Ryder, I knew this was just his vibe—a reckless, cynical playboy who didn't care about anything.

More importantly… he threw cash around like it was confetti. I pasted on a flawless corporate smile. "Jasper.

What can I do for you?" His eyes lazily dragged up my body, taking me in from head to toe. "I fully expected you to come in here crying and screaming." Apparently, my fragile little canary act deserved an Oscar.

I let out a soft sigh. "You got hurt because of Ryder. It's only natural I do my part to make it right." My voice dripped with sickening sincerity.

Jasper stared at me, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips, stripping right through my bullshit. After a beat, his voice dropped into a dark, teasing hum. "It's suffocating in here.

Come help me take this shirt off." I didn't hesitate. I closed the distance in one stride, pressing my knee hard against the edge of his mattress.

With smooth, practiced obedience, my fingers flicked open the buttons of his hospital gown one by one. His gauzewrapped chest was fully exposed.

I kept my face totally blank. "Do the pants need to go too?" That actually made Jasper freeze. "Sure." He recovered fast, keeping up the game. I ground my teeth.

I never should have challenged a billionaire playboy to a game of shamelessness. But the words were already out. A cold laugh echoed in my head.

I flipped my hand, slamming my palm flat against his hip bone, and hooked my fingertips directly under the waistband of his pants. Right at that exact second.

A low, violent voice ripped through the corridor outside. "Get the hell out of my way! I want to see exactly how crippled he is.

Son of a bitch, always causing problems for my brother." Before my brain could even register the sound, the heavy door slammed open, crashing against the wall.

My entire body went rigid. My fingers were still aggressively hooked deep in Jasper's waistband. The chaotic noise outside instantly evaporated