Page 129 of Pretend To Be Mine

She guided me through corridors, away from the backstage chaos, into a small private dressing room that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. She closed the door behind us, muffling the sounds of the show. The sudden silence was almost worse than the noise. It left too much room for my thoughts.

“What’s going on?” I asked, even though I suspected. Some part of me hoped she’d tell me it was fine and everything would blow over. It couldn’t be as bad as it seemed.

Mimi pulled out her phone. “The engagement. Clara’s claiming it’s a publicity stunt.”

“It is a publicity stunt.” My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears. “But how did she find out? Did Adrian⁠—”

My heart shattered for the second time that night. Did he tell her? Did he tell her in order to keep her on the backburner? Promise he would go to her as soon as he was done with me?

“No, Adrian didn’t tell her,” she said. “The vile woman is making it sound like it was your idea. Like you’re using my son to advance your career.” Mimi scrolled through the trending topics, her jaw tight with barely contained anger. “‘Designer uses fake engagement to land Blackwell job.’ ‘Gold-digger exposed.’ ‘Fashion fraud revealed.’”

Each headline was a knife to the gut. I felt physically sick, like I might throw up right there on the pristine floor.

“That’s not what happened! Mimi, I would never do that.”

“I know that. Adrian told me the truth from the beginning.” Mimi sighed and shook her head. “But that’s not the narrative Clara’s selling. She’s painting you as a calculating social climber who seduced her way into my family for professional gain. I will admit I wasn’t on board with this whole scheme from the beginning. I was afraid something like this might happen.”

“But it’s not true!” The protest came out weak. Because what did truth matter when thousands of people had already decided who I was?

“I know it’s not true. But the internet doesn’t care about truth anymore. They care about drama.” She moved toward the door. “Stay here. Out of sight. I’m going to find my sons and figure out how to handle this.”

She left me alone with my phone and the endless scroll of people who’d never met me deciding who I was.

My hands shook as I read comment after comment, each one more vicious than the last. People analyzing my clothes, my appearance, my credentials. Finding me lacking in every possible way.

She’s not even a real designer

Probably can’t even sew

Just another wannabe using sex to get ahead

Bet she targeted him from the start. Girls like this always have a plan.

I should have stopped reading. But I couldn’t. I was torturing myself with every slide of my thumb across the screen.

The door opened and Adrian walked in. “Elizabeth, I’m so sorry. I’m trying to figure out who⁠—”

“Who leaked it?” I stood up, anger finally breaking through the numbness. It felt good to be angry. It was safer than feeling hurt. “Who even knows about you promising me a job, Adrian? That wasn’t in the paperwork. That wasn’t in the NDA. That was just an understanding between us.”

“I know⁠—”

“So who did you tell? Who did you trust with that information?” I was pacing now, unable to stand still, energy crackling through me like electricity. “You told me our little arrangement wouldn’t be made public. I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, but apparently you could?”

“I haven’t told anyone. Well, my brothers. Annika. My mother.” He ran a hand through his hair. “People I’ve told bigger secrets to. More damaging secrets. None of them would ever betray me. It’s not just me they would be betraying. It would be the company, too. None of them would do that.”

“Then how did Clara know?” I pulled up the video, the part where Clara specifically mentions the job arrangement. “Listen. She knows details that only someone in your inner circle would know.”

We watched together as Clara spoke directly to the camera, her voice dripping with false concern. “He promised her a job at Blackwell Couture in exchange for playing his fiancée. It’s all transactional. Business, not love. I just think the public deserves to know the truth about what kind of woman is trying to insert herself into one of fashion’s most respected families.”

“Someone from Blackwell leaked this,” I said flatly. “Someone you trust told Clara everything.”

“That’s not possible!”

“Then explain it!” My voice was rising now. “Explain how she knows about private conversations between us. Explain how the entire world suddenly knows the exact terms of our arrangement. Explain how she has details that weren’t even in our contract!”

“I don’t know!” He looked as lost as I felt. Part of me wanted to comfort him and tell him it would be okay. But I couldn’t. Not when I was drowning. “But I’ll find out. I’ll figure out who did this.”

“It doesn’t matter who.” I sank back onto the couch, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. “The damage is done. I can never show my face in this industry again. My career is over before it even began.”