Quitting the Stand-In: The Brothers' Obsession

"A million dollars a month. Keep him happy." I lay in the bed of Carter, my boss's younger brother.

That arrogant bastard had pinned me against the wall like a madman, aggressively claiming his territory all night long and leaving countless possessive marks all over my skin.

Everyone in our elite circle was holding their breath, waiting for me to suffer a complete mental breakdown.

But right now, I pushed open the heavy double doors to Declan's corner office.

Pointing at the fresh marks littering my body, I flashed him a sweet smile. "Does this count for worker's comp?" Chapter 1 "Worker's comp?" Declan's voice was ice.

I scratched my cheek, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Carter was completely feral last night.

There's barely an inch of untouched skin left on me, and I can hardly walk… Declan, if you don't believe me, I can show you—" Declan’s long fingers tapped lazily against the mahogany.

Without missing a beat, he slid a matte black Amex across the desk.

His tone carried the undeniable weight of a billionaire accustomed to total obedience. "Swipe it for whatever you want.

Consider it compensation." My eyes lit up. "Thank you, Declan!" I paused, letting the card slip into my bag. "And about my severance package…" "Severance?" Declan's brows knit together.

Before he could question me further, his private line buzzed. A long, heavy silence stretched across the room as he listened. "She's alive?" His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

He hung up.

He tapped the desk again, the pieces finally clicking into place. "Stay by his side for now," he ordered. "If your services are truly no longer required down the line, I'll ensure you receive a very generous payout." I held back an eye roll.

Of course he wouldn't need me anymore. His precious childhood sweetheart wasn't dead after all. What use did he have for a cheap knockoff now?

Still, I offered a meek nod. "Understood." I turned on my heel toward the door.

Declan’s flat voice hit my back. "Don't covet things that don't belong to you." My feet stopped dead on the plush carpet. A blatant warning. He was just like the rest of them.

They all assumed I was going to lose my mind, throw a hysterical fit, or go full golddigger villainess to sabotage everything. I let out a slow exhale.

I couldn't exactly blame them. For the past three years, Carter had been obsessed with me. Recently, he’d even started making calls to luxury wedding planners.

If things had gone smoothly, we would have been at the courthouse signing papers in a matter of weeks. But things rarely went smoothly.

The irreplaceable woman he’d been mourning was still breathing. My guaranteed spot as the billionaire's wife just evaporated into thin air.

Theoretically, I should be clawing at the walls. But over the years, I never once forgot my actual job title: The StandIn.

The condescending affection I earned by mimicking a dead woman was never built to last. The only thing that was real was the fat paycheck Declan deposited into my account.

I glanced over my shoulder, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Don't worry, Declan. At my hourly rate, I never disappoint." I pushed the heavy double doors open and stepped out.

Only to crash straight into the last person I expected to see in this hallway.

Our eyes locked, and my blood ran ice cold. "…Carter?" The man, a walking embodiment of raw testosterone, halted abruptly.

He closed the distance between us with suffocating pressure, his feral dark eyes pinning me in place. "What the hell are you doing here?

Are you stalking me?" My pulse hammered against my throat. I forced my breathing to steady. Carter had zero clue I even knew his brother.

He definitely didn't know that my entire existence in his life was a calculated, paid assignment orchestrated by the CEO sitting fifty feet away.

When his sweetheart supposedly died, Carter went off the rails.

He spent his days downing whiskey and drag racing supercars, landing himself on the front pages of every gossip rag in town.

The relentless scandals had tanked the family company's stock. Declan, holding the reins of the empire, was beyond fed up with cleaning up the mess.

That was, until someone pointed out a girl at an exclusive club who shared a passing resemblance to the dead girl. Me.

Piles of files outlining her exact mannerisms were dumped into my lap. I was a fast learner. Docile, easy to control, and devoid of personal boundaries.

I was boxed up and shipped straight to Carter's penthouse to serve as his living, breathing pacifier. Carter actually bought the act.

He thought I was just some pathetic, lovestruck girl who coincidentally looked like his ex.

Through sheer, grueling persistence, I finally managed to chisel a tiny space out in his heart. I couldn't let this blow up in my face.

If he found out the truth—forget the worker's comp or the severance package. I wouldn't even get my paycheck for the month!

Chapter 2 I clung to Carter's arm, dropping my voice to a soft, hesitant pitch. "When I woke up this morning, you were already gone.

I couldn't reach you on your phone." "So I took the liberty of finding your brother to ask where you were.

You're not mad at me, are you, Carter?" Carter paused, his tone completely detached. "He's busy running the corporation.

Don't bother him with trivial things." Seeing that he bought the lie, I exhaled a quiet breath of relief, quickly slipping back into my docile persona. "Okay.

It won't happen again." He gave a careless nod and smoothly pulled his arm from my grasp. "Head back first." "What about tonight?

You said you were taking me out for a candlelit dinner," I pressed. "I finally managed to get a reservation at that impossible place." Carter stopped.

His long, knuckledefined fingers reached out, lazily stroking my cheek. Exactly the way one would pet a dog. "Next time," he said.

Unsurprisingly, there probably wouldn't be a next time. But I still gave him an obedient nod. "Okay." If Carter wasn't going, I'd just go by myself.

I had been dying to try this restaurant for ages, but getting a table was notoriously impossible.

It wasn't until last week, during my routine progress report to Declan regarding Carter's stability.

I had casually mentioned, "Declan, that ultraexclusive, membersonly Michelinstarred spot is impossible to book.

Do you happen to have a connection?" Declan had paused, setting down his files.

He lifted his dark eyes, his tone suddenly sharp. "Have you brought this up with Carter?" "Yeah," I replied. "He said if it's too much trouble, we should just forget it." "Said all highend spots are the same.

But the ambiance there is supposed to be incredible. I really want to go." Declan had taken a slow, icy sip of his black coffee. Then he made a single phone call.

A second later, a confirmation text pinged on my screen. "Avery?" A man's voice broke through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.

I set down my crystal wine glass and looked up. It was the luxury wedding planner I'd been coordinating with.

I offered a polite smile. "Are you dining here tonight as well?" He studied my face for a long moment, clearing his throat before lowering his voice. "Is everything… alright between you and Mr.

Carter?" "Excuse me?" I allowed a flicker of practiced confusion to cross my face. "Carter contacted my office.

He ordered a complete halt on all wedding planning and venue arrangements." The man hesitated. "Specifically, anything pertaining to the bride." I immediately understood his panic.

I offered him a reassuring, sympathetic smile. "Don't worry.

The wedding isn't being canceled." It was a multimilliondollar contract; obviously, he was terrified of losing the commission.

The planner blinked, visibly relaxing as he swallowed the reassurance. He broke into a wide, relieved grin. "Well then, an early congratulations to you and Mr.

Carter!" The wedding truly wasn't going to be canceled. The bride was simply being swapped out. I didn't bother explaining further.

Once the planner scurried off, I idly spun my silver fork against the linen tablecloth. Suddenly, a flash of movement by the floortoceiling windows caught my eye.

I glanced over, and my breath hitched. Carter. He was facing my direction, but his eyes were fixated on the woman sitting across from him. Her slender silhouette.

I knew exactly who she was the second I saw her. I had spent countless hours dissecting her photos, painstakingly memorizing her every microexpression and gesture.

The waiter arrived, seamlessly setting down my appetizer. I pointed a perfectly manicured nail toward the window. "I tried booking that exact table for months and couldn't get it.

Did they just pay double the minimum spend?" It was an offhand complaint.

I hadn't expected a real answer—staff at these places were trained to never breathe a word about their elite clientele.

To my surprise, the waiter let out a low chuckle. "Can't be helped, miss. This entire establishment is owned by the corporation." "That's the heir over there.

He points at a table, it's his." Chapter 3 I froze. No wonder… When I had mentioned this place to Declan, he had given me this completely unreadable look.

Then, with a single phone call, the reservation was mine. And Carter? He couldn't even be bothered to make that one simple call.

I had complained to him so many times about not being able to get a table here.

He would just lazily pull me into his lap, toying with my earlobe, soaking up my disappointment like it was a joke. "So pitiful.

Can't even get the dinner you want." But that was how he always treated me. No respect, no equality. I was just a pet he could mold however he pleased.

Case in point—I quietly stared across the dining room, watching the two of them. Carter never sat across from me at dinner.

He always demanded I sit right beside him, perfectly positioned for him to pull me in and mess with me at a moment's notice.

He would never act the gentleman, pouring my wine or holding a normal conversation with me.

He would just shove his own glass against my lips and issue a lazy threat. "Not gonna drink? You want me to feed it to you myself?" Not that I ever actually wanted his respect.

I always knew exactly where I stood in this transaction. But seeing it with my own eyes still left a hollow ring in my chest. "Well, well.

If it isn't our dear Avery." A man carelessly dropped into the seat across from me, forcing me to snap my gaze back. …One of Carter's familiar trustfund lackeys. "We were just taking bets yesterday on when Carter would finally dump you.

Guess you're flying solo tonight, huh?" His smile was entirely malicious as his eyes raked over me.

He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture right in my face, and fired it off to a group chat. He pressed the voice memo button. "Look who I ran into.

Guess the heir really did toss her to the curb." In that exact moment, a ridiculous thought crossed my mind: If I get harassed by Carter's fratbro buddies, can I bill Declan for emotional damages? "Without him, how are you gonna fund this highmaintenance lifestyle?" He gave me a calculating look. "Why don't you be my entertainment instead?

I'll fly you out on the private jet, get you a black card with no limit." "All you gotta do is be a good, obedient girl.

What do you say?" My fingers twitched with the urge to throw my wine directly in his face and laugh: You're significantly cheaper than my boss.

But unfortunately, I still had a lovestruck persona to maintain. I softened my voice. "That's not it. Carter said he had business tonight.

He's coming with me next time." The guy immediately barked out a laugh, jerking his chin toward the other side of the room. "You see who's sitting over there?" I barely gave them a glance before responding with absolute conviction. "That's just a friend.

I don't interfere with his social life." The man pushed his chair back and stood up, strutting straight toward their table.

He was hellbent on ripping away my final shred of dignity, determined to force me to see exactly how coldblooded Carter truly was. Wait, seriously?!

I instantly veiled the thrill sparking in my eyes and hurried after him. This was perfect. I was in desperate need of a flawless, unquestionable exit strategy.

Carter would absolutely draw a hard line with me in front of his precious first love.

I would let my shoulders slump, holding my chin high enough to not make a scene, before walking away. Then I could smoothly and rapidly collect my severance check.

Even better, Carter might feel guilty enough to throw in a massive breakup fee. After that, we'd go our separate ways for good.

After all, Declan had explicitly stated that any jewelry or cash Carter had gifted me wouldn't need to be returned. I could keep it all with a crystalclear conscience.

Keeping my mind running the numbers, I trailed behind the frat bro until we stopped dead at Carter's table. Two pairs of eyes snapped toward us.

Predictably, Carter's face shifted the second he saw me. He stared dead at me. The air around the table instantly grew thick with an unnatural, heavy tension.

Chapter 4 Bianca raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Your girlfriend?" Carter didn't answer. The frat boy immediately barked out a laugh. "No way.

Carter's heart has only ever belonged to you, Bianca. Right, Carter?" I instantly slipped into character.

I forced my eyelashes to flutter, letting a sheen of unshed tears pool in my eyes as I stared at Carter. Carter met my gaze with chilling indifference.

After an agonizingly long second, he jerked his chin toward me. "Just my brother's little pet." Bianca froze. The frat boy and I froze right along with her.

I mean, sure, Declan was my boss. But… it was a strictly professional, W2 payroll kind of relationship! Bianca let out a soft scoff. "I don't buy it.

Save the lies." "The way she looks at you is anything but platonic.

You two are close, aren't you?" The frat boy looked completely lost, muttering suspiciously, "Damn, for real?" Carter took a slow, deliberate sip of his scotch, his pitchblack eyes locking onto mine with terrifying calm. "My brother asked me to keep an eye on her.

Naturally, we interact. Isn't that right, Avery?" I knew exactly what that look meant. It was a lazy, unspoken warning: Play along and don't make a scene.

But a clean break was exactly what I needed! Carter was supposed to slap a severance check on the table and coldly tell me to get out of his sight.

Not pin some bizarre fake identity on me! It slandered my pure, strictly corporate dynamic with Declan. Bianca wasn't an easy target. "I know your brother.

He doesn't just pick up strays. Where's the proof?" Right on cue. The maitre d' appeared at my elbow, bowing slightly. "Miss Avery? Have you finished your meal?" "Mr.

Declan left strict instructions that your bill is entirely taken care of, and you possess a standing reservation moving forward.

Additionally, a black car is waiting downstairs to take you home whenever you're ready." A dead silence swallowed the table.

Declan was undeniably a fantastic boss—generous, attentive, handing out premium corporate perks without a second thought. But the timing couldn't have been worse.

Carter's gaze pinned me to the spot. Just as the tension hit a freezing point, a low, dangerous laugh slipped from Carter's lips.

He turned back to Bianca. "Believe me now?" Bianca swept a dismissive look over me and nodded. "So this is your brother's type." Carter stiffened.

The lazy amusement vanished from his eyes, replaced by a flash of sheer ice. He turned his head, raking his eyes over me with a predatory, scrutinizing glare. He was suspicious.

But Carter merely offered a halfsmile that didn't reach his eyes. "Run along now. Don't keep my brother waiting." A violent shudder ripped down my spine.

I forced myself to stand perfectly still for three agonizing seconds, letting my lower lip tremble and just the right amount of unshed tears pool in my eyes.

Then, I spun on my heel and followed the maitre d' out of the dining room.

The second I was in the back of the town car, I pulled out my phone and fired off a text to Carter: [Carter, I just casually mentioned to your brother that I couldn't get a reservation.

He only helped me out as a favor to you.] [But who was that woman today? Why wouldn't you tell her we're together?] Defend first, attack second. Flawless execution.

An entire hour dragged by before my screen lit up. Just one single line from Carter: [Are you that close with him?] I instantly shot back: [I literally just mentioned it in passing.

I didn't even expect him to get a table. What about you? You got a table and brought another woman instead of me?] A second later, an audio message dropped into the chat. "Avery.

You're getting bold." Four simple words. The tone was lethargic, dripping with absolute ice.

I didn't even need to be in the room to see it—the halflidded gaze, the pitchblack eyes, the total evaporation of his patience.

Chapter 5 I scrambled to maintain my stagefive clinger persona, sending over a string of timid voice memos. "But I'm just so upset.

Who was she?" "Carter, I swear I'll never speak to your brother again.

Please don't be mad at me, okay?" "…Carter, you've been so cold to me these past few days." "Did I do something wrong?" "She's just a friend, right? I trust you." Radio silence.

For days on end, Carter ghosted me entirely. I kept up the routine, religiously firing off daily voice messages whining about how much I missed him and how anxious I was.

That was fine. Ignoring me was perfectly fine. I was just biding my time for the elite corporate gala next week. Carter had explicitly promised to take me as his plusone.

That sixfigure, custom Parisian haute couture gown was already hanging perfectly in my walkin closet.

But now, my texts were left on read, and getting face time with him was impossible.

I called his fratbro buddies, only to be met with awkward stammering and barely disguised, mocking laughter. The message was loud and clear.

His plusone had been swapped out for the resurrected first love. But if Carter thought he could bench me, he was dead wrong. I was going. This was a golden opportunity.

Carter would absolutely put miles of distance between us to appease his precious sweetheart.

Once everyone in our elite circle saw that, the rumors of my brutal dumping would be set in stone.

If this dragged on any longer, how was I supposed to cash out my massive severance package?

I slipped into the gown, pinned my hair into a flawless updo, and walked into the grand ballroom entirely alone. The first person I spotted wasn't Carter. It was Declan.

Tall, impossibly sharp, radiating an icy, untouchable arrogance as he stood at the dead center of the crowd, a crystal champagne flute loosely gripped in his hand.

His dark gaze landed on me. I flashed him a quick, brilliant smile. He indifferently looked away.

Then, a stunning silhouette stepped into the light, her arm tightly laced through Carter's. My eyes locked onto his lazy gaze, and I watched his dark pupils instantly freeze.

I didn't miss a beat.

I marched straight toward them, forcing my voice into a pathetic, trembling whisper. "Carter." Carter halflowered his eyelids. "What the hell are you doing here?" I forced my spine to go rigid.

He let out a flat, careless drawl. "My brother is standing right over there." A crowd of vultures had already gathered, eagerly watching the drama unfold.

Everyone in the room knew it was a fabricated excuse just to brush me off. They were fully banking on the fact that I wouldn't actually dare to approach Declan. Obviously.

Not only did they think Declan and I were complete strangers, but even with our secret employeremployee dynamic, I still wouldn't dare drag him into this mess.

Bianca would have to be an absolute idiot not to sense the tension. She narrowed her eyes into slits, giving me her first real, calculating onceover.

Then, a sickeningly sweet smile stretched across her lips. "You and I actually share a passing resemblance. And the designer of that dress happens to be my absolute favorite.

Who bought it for you?

Was it Carter?" I bit down hard on my lower lip, letting humiliation wash over my features as I stared stubbornly at him. "Carter…" Bianca tilted her head. "What do you think, Carter?

Who wears it better?" Carter dragged his gaze off me.

He looked down at the woman beside him and lazily let a single syllable slip. "You." Bianca's smile deepened in pure satisfaction.

She reached out, her perfectly manicured thumb wiping away a tear that had just spilled over my lashes. "You see, some people," she purred, "even when draped in authentic couture, still look like nothing more than a cheap knockoff." A blatant, razorsharp insult.

Carter maintained his signature, untouchable apathy. His dark eyes flicked to my reddened, tearful eyes for exactly one second before completely writing me off.

I played the devastating blow perfectly. I let my knees buckle just a fraction, my body swaying.

Tears pouring down my face, I spun around and bolted straight toward the private VIP lounges upstairs.

Chapter 6 A malicious sneer drifted from behind me in the hallway. "Looks like she couldn't handle the heat.

Off to change out of that knockoff dress." I stopped perfectly still in front of the innermost VIP lounge.

Swiping the fake tears from my cheeks, I smoothed the imaginary wrinkles from my skirt, took a deep, centering breath, and pushed the heavy oak door open.

Inside, a man sat leaning back against the plush leather sofa, his endlessly long legs elegantly crossed.

I dropped the weeping act instantly and flashed a wide grin. "Declan." I had kept him in my peripheral vision the entire time downstairs.

The moment I caught him glancing my way before heading upstairs, I immediately trailed behind.

Unsurprisingly, I hit the jackpot. "Your assignment is complete." He stood up, his face devoid of emotion as he extended a sleek matte card toward me. "Thirty million dollars." I snatched it up, giving an exaggerated, emotional sniffle. "Declan, over the past three years of employment, I have poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this role." "Thanks to my unwavering dedication, Carter has been successfully rehabilitated into society.

Now that he has finally reunited with his true love, my heart is utterly at peace.

Thank you, Declan, for this incredible career opportunity…" I was absolutely killing my final performance review.

That was, until a panicked voice shrieked from the hallway. "…Carter, wait!" The heavy oak door slammed open, rebounding off the wall with a deafening crack