Twisted Lies: A Fake Dating Romance

Sadly, all dreams had to end.

Our boat trip in Capri was our last full day in Italy before Christian and I returned to D.C. with two new suitcases of gifts and souvenirs and my love confession trailing behind us.

Old me would’ve felt embarrassed about saying those words and not hearing them back, but new-ish me (because there were still parts of the old me in there) was more comfortable letting things play out in their own time.

That being said, our return to the city was more jarring after Italy than after Hawaii. After a month away, Christian was immediately swept up in the chaos of work, and I spent a good week digging myself out of the emails, mail, and tasks that’d piled up while we were gone.

I visited Maura, worked on my marketing plan, had drinks with Ava and Jules, and ran a million errands.

The adjustment to my normal daily life was harder, partly because I’d been gone for longer and partly because there was so much more to do this time around.

By the time the week ended, I was tired, cranky, and in desperate need of an extra-long restorative yoga session.

I decided to take that Monday slow and was making my usual morning smoothie when my phone lit with an incoming call.

“Hello?”

“Hi Stella, this is Norma.”

My hand froze over the blender.

Norma was one of my favorite nurses at Greenfield, but she wouldn’t call out of the blue unless something was wrong.

I set the half cup of ice back on the counter and twisted my necklace around my finger.

“Is Maura okay?”

She’d seemed fine when I visited her yesterday, but anything could’ve happened since then. She could’ve had a seizure, a fall, hit her head…

Worse case scenarios ran rampant through my head.

“She’s physically okay.” Norma’s soothing voice eased some of my nerves. “But she, ah, remembered what happened to Phoebe and Harold this morning.”

Just like that, the nerves came rushing back. “Oh no.”

It didn’t happen often, but whenever Maura remembered her husband and daughter, she got extremely agitated. The last time that happened, she threw a vase at a nurse. If she’d been at full strength, the nurse would be in a coma right now.

“Like I said, she’s fine now,” Norma reassured me. “Unfortunately, we had to sedate her.”

My stomach clenched. I’d asked Greenfield to call me whenever they sedated Maura. It wasn’t something they did lightly. Sedation meant she’d had a really bad day.

“I’ll come over right now.” I was already halfway to the door when Norma stopped me.

“No need. I know you want to see her, but she’s already sleeping, and you just visited yesterday.” Her voice gentled. “I only called to give you a heads up. Don’t stress too much about it, hun. These things happen, and we have it under control. I promise.”

She was right. As much as I hated the thought of leaving Maura alone after she’d been so upset, the staff at Greenfield were professionals. They were trained to handle such situations, and they could do it far more effectively than I could.

“Right.” I forced a smile even though Norma couldn’t see me. “Thank you for calling. Please let me know if there are any updates.”

“I will.”

I hung up and went through the motions of finishing breakfast, but I was too distracted to taste anything.

Maybe I should swing by Greenfield later just in case…

My phone buzzed again, this time with a new text that proved the day could, in fact, get worse.

Natalia: STELLA 

Natalia: What the hell is this?

A photo from my Hawaii shoot accompanied her text. The Delamonte print campaign had finally gone live along with my Washington Weekly profile. Julian had done a great job writing it up, and Luisa was thrilled. She’d emailed me yesterday gushing over the piece.

Apparently, my family was less thrilled.

I could see why they might be shocked. My back was turned to the camera in the photo Natalia sent, but I was obviously topless. My bikini bottom covered the necessary bits and not an inch more.

The composition was artistic, not sleazy, but it was still probably the most scandalous thing an Alonso had ever been involved in.

Stella: A photo

I wasn’t in the mood to indulge Natalia’s demand for answers.

I’d known my family would freak out over the Hawaii photos, but I didn’t care. We hadn’t spoken since our dinner almost three months ago. Perhaps it was pride and stubbornness keeping us apart, or maybe I’d been right all along. They couldn’t care less if I was part of the family or not.

The only time they cared about what I was doing was if I embarrassed them. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Natalia’s first message to me in months involved criticism.

Natalia: You’re NAKED

Natalia: Mom and Dad are freaking out!

Stella: I’m HALF naked. And if Mom and Dad are freaking out, they can tell me themselves. They’re adults. They don’t need you acting as their mouthpiece all the time.

We were texting, but I could practically hear her stunned silence.

I’d spent my life doing whatever my sister wanted and letting her push me around. I was sick of it.

If my parents had a problem with me, they could say it to my face.

And if Natalia had a problem with that, she could shove it up her you know what.

The three dots that indicated she was typing popped up, disappeared, then popped up again.

Natalia: I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but it’s not cute. YOU’RE an adult, Stella. Act like one.

Natalia: Also, half naked isn’t much better than fully naked

Natalia: Dad is the chief of staff to a cabinet secretary. How do you think this will reflect on him?

Aggravation sunk its claws into my skin.

Arguing with Natalia was like arguing with a brick wall. She never backed down or tried to see the other person’s side. She was always right, and everyone else was always wrong.

Instead of texting back, I called her.

When she picked up, I didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“I. Don’t. Care.” I hung up and switched my phone to silent.

Was I acting like a brat? Maybe.

Would I regret my mini tantrum later? Probably.

But I’d deal with that when the time came. For now, shocking my sister into silence was the brightest spot of my morning.

Still, I couldn’t focus on work, so I changed into an old T-shirt and shorts and turned to the only thing that made me feel better when I was super stressed: deep cleaning.

I started in the kitchen and worked my way through the penthouse, dusting and wiping every corner and crevice. Nina cleaned once a week, but her last visit had been five days ago, so there was plenty for me to do.

My friends thought it was a weird stress relief tactic, but it was the perfect mindlessly productive task. Plus, every swipe of a damp cloth through dust felt like I was clearing out stagnant energy, which was a bonus.

Eventually, I made it to Christian’s office.

I hesitated outside the closed doors.

I only entered his inner sanctum to water his poor plants, which I’d continued taking care of even after I moved in. He’d offered to hire someone else to do it, but I’d grown attached to them.

Christian wouldn’t care if I went in when he wasn’t there, right? He was fine with me going in to water the plants. If he didn’t want me in there, he would’ve told me.

After another beat of hesitation, I opened the doors.

I spent longer in Christian’s office than anywhere else since I was so careful about putting everything back exactly where it was.

The room was a study in monochrome with its light gray walls, black leather chair, and massive glass and metal desk. Even the globe in the corner was black and gray.

Apparently, he was as allergic to color as he was to art.

“Christian doesn’t know it yet, but we’re going to add a bit of life to you,” I told his desk. It was empty save for his laptop, two extra monitors, a paperweight, and a matte gray holder containing four identical Montblanc pens. “Eventually.”

I wiped down the desk and was so busy trying to figure out what the paperweight was—a jaguar? A boar? A deformed cat?—that I accidentally knocked over his pen holder.

I knelt and retrieved the pens, but I miscalculated the distance from the floor to the desk and accidentally banged my head against the underside on my way up.

“Ow!” I winced at the sharp burst of pain.

Maybe the planets were out of alignment because today was not my day.

I waited until the bout of dizziness passed before I rose again. This time, I slid my hand against the side of the desk on my way up so I didn’t make the same mistake.

This is why I can’t have a glass desk. They blended a little too well into their surroundings.

My fingers brushed against a small bump, but I didn’t pay much attention to it until I stood and noticed one of the drawers had popped up.

It looked different than the others. Smaller, made of black instead of gray metal, and nestled within a larger drawer filled with office supplies.

A secret compartment.

“Oh my God.” I stared at it in disbelief.

I knew Christian had all sorts of gadgets and devices at his disposal, but a secret drawer? Seriously? I thought those only existed in movies.

I should close it and move on. It probably contained confidential information that was none of my business, but curiosity got the better of me.

A little peek couldn’t hurt, right? Besides, the contents looked innocuous. They were just a bunch of plain black binders.

I picked up the top binder and flipped it open.

It looked like a bunch of boring text until my eyes zeroed in on the name at the top.

Stella Alonso.

I blinked twice to make sure I read that clearly, but no matter how long I stared, the words didn’t budge.

I skimmed over the rest of the page quickly and realized it wasn’t just random text about schools and birthdays and hobbies. It was about me.

Everything about my life—my birthday, my friends, my hobbies and where I went to school starting with pre-K going all the way up to college—was laid out in black and white.

Why would Christian have a file on me? To look into my past so he could weed out my stalker?

I’d already told him everything I knew, but maybe he was worried I’d missed something.

However, when I flipped through the rest of the binder, that clearly wasn’t the case.

My entire life was distilled into these pages. Everything from basic information like my parents’ occupations to my favorite foods, school extracurriculars, and my favorite freaking professor in college. He even had a list of every person I’d ever dated.

I’m going to be sick.

Bile coated my throat, but I set the binder down and picked up the second one with shaking hands.

It was worse than the first. It contained full dossiers on not only me but everyone closest to me, including my family, friends, Maura, and previous boyfriends.

The third folder housed a collection of media—my college graduation photos, a Thayer Chronicle article about the holiday food drive I’d organized, and a shot of me attending my first fashion show that’d made it onto some influencer gossip site years ago, to name a few.

The photos and articles were all public domain. There were no private or candid shots, but seeing them together along with the rest of my files made me want to throw up.

For a second, I thought he might be my stalker, but it didn’t make sense logistically. I also knew Christian well enough to know he wouldn’t terrorize me the way my stalker had.

Not well enough that you anticipated him having a dossier on your entire life, an insidious voice in my head sang.

Perhaps Christian had a good reason for the files, but it was still a huge invasion of privacy. He hadn’t dug into just my life; he’d dug into everyone I knew.

He’d done it without my consent, and he’d kept it from me.

How long had he had those files? Days? Weeks? Months?

My stomach rebelled, and I barely made it to the nearest bathroom before my breakfast made a messy reappearance.

Tears stung my eyes as I heaved.

This time last week, we’d been on a boat in Italy. I’d told him I’d loved him, and he’d kissed me like he loved me back.

Seven days felt like a lifetime ago—long enough for a dream to twist into a nightmare.

Maybe he needed that information to track down my stalker. Maybe he wanted to make sure no one in my life was a serial killer. Maybe…maybe…

I was grasping at straws, but all I could think about was Christian sitting at his desk, picking through my life with the ease of someone typing in a Google search.

Even if he wasn’t my stalker, he’d crossed many of the same boundaries. Stepped over many of the same lines.

The urge to vomit rose again. I’d already thrown up all the contents in my stomach, so I could only dry heave into the toilet.

I have to get out of here.

He wouldn’t be home for another few hours, but I couldn’t risk him leaving the office early and finding me like this.

I couldn’t pretend everything was okay when it felt like nothing would be okay ever again.

I forced myself off the floor and quickly cleaned up before I entered our bedroom. Although I had a ton of stuff stored in the guest room, I’d all but moved into Christian’s room after Hawaii.

He’d cleared out a section of his closet for me, and the sight of my clothes hanging next to his familiar dark suits twisted my heart into an excruciating knot.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to wear something other than black, gray, and navy, you know.” I lay in bed, wrapped up in the comforter and watching Christian get dressed.

Suit. Tie. Watch. Cufflinks.

I never thought watching a guy put on cufflinks would be sexy, but he made everything look sexy.

“Other colors hurt my eyes.”

“I wear other colors all the time.”

“That’s different. I love everything you wear.”

My stomach flipped, and I flopped back on my pillow with a sigh. “It’s not fair that you can end every argument by saying things like that.”

Christian’s laugh lingered in the room long after he left.

The memory pulled a smile out of me, but it faded when my current reality sank in again.

The binders. The secrets. The need to get the hell out of here before he came home.

I couldn’t face him right now, not when my emotions were so raw and all over the place.

I needed time to think and space to process away from him.

I forced my eyes away from his section of the closet and threw the essentials into a duffel bag. A few changes of clothes, toiletries, and Mr. Unicorn, who I grabbed on my way out.

At the last minute, I scribbled a quick note to Christian and left it on his office desk. That and the files should be self-explanatory.

I wasn’t ready to talk to him, but I worried what he might do if he came home and found me gone without a trace.

I hugged Mr. Unicorn tight to my chest as I took the elevator down to the lobby. I didn’t care that I was an adult walking through public with a stuffed animal. He was the only male who’d never let me down.

I knew Brock was keeping an eye on me and that he’d alert Christian to where I’d gone, but I’d deal with that later.

For now, there was only one place I could go that was almost as safe as Christian’s used to be.

“Ava?” I called her on my way out of the building. My voice wobbled, but I refused to cry. Not now, not here. “Can I come over? Something…something happened.”