Fake Fiancée, Real Trouble

Chapter One

Julia Young had waited at the villa all day before the front door finally swung open.

A tall, handsome man walked in. Julia hurried toward him, standing on tiptoe to hook her arms around his neck, her whole body pressed against his.
"You're back! I’ve been waiting for you all day. I missed you so much," she purred.

Ethan Foster stumbled back from her overly enthusiastic greeting, eventually backing into the shoe cabinet. His hands landed on her waist to steady her, a teasing smile on his lips.
"Try saying that again—this time, in a language I understand."

Julia’s flirty smile dropped instantly. "Come with me to my cousin’s wedding. I want to blind those snobs with your CEO aura."

“No,” Ethan replied flatly, peeling her arms off and heading for the living room. He grabbed a small bucket of ice, poured himself a drink at the bar, and ignored her chatter as she trailed him like a puppy.

Frustrated by his silence, Julia snatched his glass. "I already told everyone you're coming. If you don't show, I'll look like a total joke!"

Ethan looked up, calm and cold in a way that made Julia feel like she didn’t matter.
"I’ve made it clear what we are. You shouldn’t be using whatever people assume about us to put on a show."

He took the glass back, brushed past her, and headed upstairs.

The study door slammed shut on the second floor. Julia glared at it with wounded pride.
"Of course—your problems are real problems, mine are just fluff. You bastard!"

Still not satisfied, she shouted up the stairs, "I drank from that glass! Go ahead, try drinking something else! We’re just partners—do we even know each other like that?"

In the study, Ethan paused mid-sip. He glanced at the lipstick mark on the rim, then chuckled.
"Childish," he muttered, but downed the drink anyway.

Their twisted connection had started with a ridiculous lie.

Julia was a trained actress—beautiful, charming, adaptable. But in an industry overflowing with pretty faces and even prettier connections, she was a nobody. To keep her dreams alive, she picked up odd gigs in disguise: fake dates, pretend fiancées, wedding buffer roles.

This time, she’d been hired to play a socialite heiress at an elite cocktail party—dress included, at her own expense. To save money, she borrowed a designer gown from her friend who worked at a luxury restoration shop.

The moment she saw the WD original masterpiece in the store, she knew it was the one. And it was—heads turned, glasses clinked, and men in tailored suits queued up to talk to her.

Until disaster struck—she showed up in the same gown as another socialite.

Rookie mistake. In her line of work, blending in was everything. She knew the gown was real, but one scene could ruin her career. She hoped to defuse the tension, maybe play it cool. But luck wasn’t on her side.

The other woman strutted over, clearly amused, and said with pointed sweetness, "You know, these WD pieces are one-of-a-kind..."

Julia’s brain spun. Then she remembered a name she’d overheard at the shop—Ethan Foster, a billionaire always ranked among the top five in the country. Rumor had it he was old, powerful, and elusive.

So she blurted out:
"Do you know Ethan Foster? He’s my father."

The air went still. Faces around her twitched. Julia took that as disbelief and doubled down.
"He gave me this dress. Want proof? I can have it authenticated."

She mimicked the spoiled heiress vibe to perfection.

Just then, a group of men walked in from the other hall. One glanced at the handsome man in the center and laughed,
"Hey Ethan, didn’t know your daughter was all grown up."

---

Chapter Two

True to his word, Ethan didn’t show up for the wedding. He left early for work.

But there was no cousin's wedding. Julia had lied.

It was her best friend marrying her ex-boyfriend. And their old classmates were all waiting to gawk at her misery.

Cursing Ethan under her breath, Julia dressed herself like royalty and walked into the lion’s den alone.

At the reception, the bride and groom made a beeline for her. Before Julia could react, the bride handed her a bouquet with a dazzling smile.

"Julia, I heard you’re engaged too. Why hasn’t the date been set yet? And where’s your fiancé today?"

The bridesmaid jumped in, voice dripping with fake concern.
"Isn’t your fiancé the executive director of Foster Group? Funny how Foster never made anything public about it. Word of advice—rich men don’t settle easily. Be careful you’re not just wasting your youth."

Julia chuckled softly, then raised her ring-clad hand and swept her fur stole over her shoulder.
"Ethan’s a busy man. He doesn’t have time to show up at just any wedding. He felt bad for missing it, so he brought me a gift from abroad. I thought it’d be something special. Turns out… it was just a five-carat diamond."

The bride instinctively covered her underwhelming ring, her smile fading.

To lighten the mood, guests began to toast the couple—but then someone turned the game on Julia, demanding she drink three glasses for showing up without her fiancé.

As she grew dizzy from the drinks, a strong arm pulled her into a warm chest. A deep, magnetic voice whispered in her ear,
"Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

Julia looked up, stunned. Ethan stood there in a sharp dark suit, freshly shaven, his cologne blending cool mint and sandalwood, radiating dominance.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, dazed.

"My parents want us at Foster Estate tonight," he said smoothly, "I came to pick you up."

In two lines, he shattered every rumor about her being a fraud.

Ethan wrapped his arm around her and walked her out of the hotel. Snow had started falling.

Fresh white flakes coated the asphalt and marble steps. Yellow streetlights cast a romantic glow—it looked like something out of a fairytale.

Julia took a few steps, then stopped. Ethan turned, confused. She looked up at the snow, then stumbled toward him and grabbed his collar, eyes glassy from the alcohol.

"Ethan," she slurred, "She’s not my cousin. She’s my friend. She stole my boyfriend. I’m heartbroken... They called me a liar. They’re still watching us... They don’t believe you’re my husband."

Her cheeks were flushed, her pout adorably defiant.

Ethan stared at her for a beat, then slipped his hand to her lower back, pulled her closer, and kissed her.
"Well," he said softly, "They do now."

Time stood still.

The busy city faded into the background. There was only the two of them, kissing in the snow.

It was the second time Ethan Foster had come to her rescue—like a prince in a sharp suit.

---

Chapter Three

The first time Ethan Foster ever saved Julia Young… was before she had even officially entered his world.

At that fateful cocktail party, Ethan hadn’t exposed Julia’s lie. He didn’t call her out on borrowing that WD designer dress without permission, sneaking it out from her friend’s luxury repair shop. Instead, he played along. The way he stood so close to her, so naturally, convinced everyone they were an actual couple. That line she’d blurted out—“Do you know Ethan Foster? He’s my father.”—was suddenly seen as a snub at the faux-fur-clad socialite she’d clashed with.

Later, after the party, Ethan approached her calmly and said he admired her talent. He asked her to consider using her skills for something meaningful—by joining his nonprofit foundation.

That’s when Julia realized Ethan wasn’t just young, rich, and ridiculously attractive. He was the executive director of Foster Group, sharp-minded and deeply principled, with a heart for philanthropy and a surprisingly kind demeanor.

Still, her first instinct was to turn him down.

She didn’t know him. They met under such awkward circumstances. She had no intention of getting further entangled with a man like him. All she wanted was a quiet, simple life.

And so, she walked away.

But fate had other plans.

A few months later, with her bank account barely surviving, Julia took on a gig she’d initially turned down—accompanying a wealthy businessman to a fashion show, where she would model outfits meant for his girlfriend. Apparently, Julia had a similar build and style to the girlfriend, and he wanted to surprise her with tailored gifts.

It started smoothly enough. But when Julia stepped out of the fitting room, radiant and poised in a sleek gown, she wasn’t met with admiration.

She was met with fury.

The businessman’s girlfriend had arrived—unannounced and fuming. Someone had tipped her off that her boyfriend was attending the show with another woman, and she'd even received photos of them whispering at the event.

Julia’s stunned expression looked, to the girlfriend, like guilt. The boyfriend's fumbling explanations only made things worse.

Julia knew better than to argue. Letting the couple handle it on their own was the wisest move. “I think you two should talk this out,” she said, calm but firm, turning to leave.

But the girlfriend wasn’t letting her off that easily.

Furious, she demanded Julia’s identity while marching after her into the street, dragging a group of friends behind her. The businessman, afraid of worsening things, didn’t stop them.

It was about to spiral into chaos.

Then—
A luxury car rolled to a smooth stop beside them.

The crowd went still as several black-suited bodyguards stepped out. They parted the scene like a knife through butter and scooped Julia up like a fragile doll, placing her safely in the back seat.

Stunned and shaken, Julia barely registered what was happening.

A moment later, a warm, oversized coat was draped over her shoulders.

Ethan Foster sat beside her, sharp in his flawlessly tailored suit, his voice low and rich in her ear.
“Still think this kind of job is worth the risk?”

He looked every bit the man in control—elegant, powerful. Julia, by contrast, felt disheveled, humiliated, and deeply exposed.

She gave a dry, bitter laugh, unsure if she was mocking herself or him.
“And working for you guarantees safety?”

“Yes,” he said, no hesitation. “If you're with me—even just for a day—I’ll protect you. I won’t let you end up discarded or in danger. Not for any reason.”

She didn’t say anything at first.

The generous offer he once made hadn’t swayed her—but those words, that moment, did.

She went home with Ethan Foster that night. Ate her first decent meal in weeks. Slept like a human again.

And by the next morning, she’d made up her mind.

“I’ll join your foundation,” she told him simply.

—

Her thoughts snapped back to the present just as Ethan’s car pulled into the driveway.

They hadn’t gone to the Foster Estate. That had been another lie—one told by Ethan to protect her, to save face.

“So, you do know how to lie,” she teased lightly as they walked inside. “Seems like lies come in all shades, huh? Some noble, some cheap.”

But Ethan didn’t smile. His expression was serious as he stepped through the doorway.
“Lies do have levels,” he said. “If a lie helps defeat evil, protects someone from harm, or leads someone out of a disaster... then it’s not really a lie—it’s a weapon.”

Julia felt a chill.

She’d misread him. Maybe he did look down on her. Maybe he thought she was just a manipulative little liar.

A seed of determination planted itself in her heart.

Fine. She would prove to Ethan Foster that she wasn’t just a “small-time faker.” She’d show him she could be a damn good professional too.

—

After that night, Ethan disappeared for several days.

Julia only found out through his assistant that he’d gone abroad on business.

She told herself he was distancing himself from her past, trying to draw the line. It used to make her sad. Now… she’d grown used to it.

Without him, she was still living well—working hard, rediscovering her own worth. Her colleagues praised her for her dedication and talent. She no longer needed anyone’s validation.

Three months passed before Ethan returned.

Julia was upstairs doing her makeup when she heard the sound of his car engine. Her heart leapt. She touched up her lipstick with extra care and ran down the stairs, all ready to welcome him home with her best behavior.

She was going to show him a new Julia. Honest. Reliable. Strong.

But as soon as she reached the foyer, her greeting froze on her lips.

Behind Ethan… peeked a girl.

Wide, watery eyes. A shy, pale face framed by soft hair. She wore a modest floral dress and clutched the strap of her bag like it was a lifeline.

Compared to Julia, polished and seductive, the girl looked like a porcelain flower—pure and delicate.

Ethan glanced back at her and then turned to Julia. His tone was cool, businesslike.
“This is Lily James. She’ll be staying here for a while.”

No warning. No discussion. Just... a declaration.

Julia’s smile cracked ever so slightly.

And something inside her said: Trouble just moved in.

---

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