The Stand-In Girls Are Now Billionaires

My best friend, Mia, and I were the ultimate "pocket princesses" of Manhattan’s elite—kept by the city's top tech tycoon and its most ruthless hedgefund billionaire.

I was Chloe Miller, the alwaysoncall, hyperefficient personal assistant and secret lover to Julian Thorne.

She was Mia Higgins, the breathtakingly gorgeous, trophy fiancée to Ryder Vance. For three years, we played the role of lovesick, brainless women perfectly.

But behind their backs, we had already quietly hoarded enough cash to buy our freedom. Until the legendary "one that got away" returned to the country.

Julian canceled a multibilliondollar merger just to pick her up from JFK. Ryder maxed out his credit cards at an elite auction house just to buy her a welcomeback gift. Oh, look.

The main character is back. Time for the standins to clock out. When my phone buzzed, I was meticulously tying Julian Thorne’s tie for tonight's charity gala.

A popup notification flashed on my screen: "Prodigy cellist Seraphina Sterling returns to New York; JFK airport swarmed by paparazzi as she gets into a mysterious luxury ride." My hand slipped.

The deep blue Windsor knot went crooked.

Julian frowned, his tone dripping with impatience. "Can't you even do a simple thing like this right?" I immediately lowered my eyelashes, putting on my signature terrified, submissive face. "I'm so sorry, Mr.

Thorne. Let me redo it." He let out a cold sneer and checked his Rolex. His face was tighter than I had ever seen it. I knew exactly why he was anxious.

The mysterious luxury car waiting at JFK was his prized, custom RollsRoyce Cullinan.

His chauffeur, Marcus, had texted me ten minutes ago saying Julian ordered him to pick someone up and that I wasn't needed.

I finished the knot flawlessly and smoothed out the wrinkles on his designer suit jacket. "Mr.

Thorne, do you still need me to accompany you to the charity gala tonight?" Julian paused as he adjusted his cuffs.

He looked at me through the mirror, his gaze analyzing me with a hint of thinly veiled disgust. "No. I have a date tonight." I nodded submissively. "Understood.

Should I clear your schedule for the next three days?" He seemed slightly surprised by how cooperative I was.

Usually, the moment I heard about him having another woman, I would cling to his arm with teary eyes, begging him to take me with him. "Yes.

Glad you're finally showing some common sense." He grabbed his car keys and walked out without another word of explanation.

The second the door clicked shut, the heartbreakingly pitiful look on my face vanished instantly. I pulled out my phone and dialed a familiar number. "Hey, Mia.

The cello girl is finally back." Loud music blared from the other end. Mia’s voice sounded incredibly relaxed. "I know.

Ryder, that absolute clown, just froze my authorized credit card to buy her some antique cello." I walked over to the floortoceiling window, watching Julian’s car speed away into the New York traffic. "Our chance is here." "Ugh, thank god.

I couldn't stand playing this pathetic 'substitute' drama for another second." Mia and I met in a foster home. In this city where money is everything, our only religion was cash.

Three years ago, I started working at the Thorne Group.

Because my side profile looked about thirty percent like Seraphina's, I became Julian’s personal assistant—and eventually, his bedmate. Mia’s story was even crazier.

She wore white silk dresses just like Seraphina, making her the perfect contract fiancée for Ryder Vance, the second heir of the Vance family.

For three years, we didn't just serve them in bed; we cleaned up their messy lives outside of it too.

When Julian’s chronic stomach ulcers flared up, I’d wake up at 3:00 AM to brew him soothing herbal soup and drive it to the hospital.

When Ryder wanted to spite Seraphina for moving abroad, he dragged Mia out into a torrential downpour to play out a dramatic lovers' spat all night.

Everyone in their highsociety circle said Chloe Miller and Mia Higgins were the two most loyal dogs they owned. Kick them, insult them, they'd still wag their tails for a bone.

But what they didn't know was that we had been collecting those bones for three whole years. I opened my hidden wall safe and pulled out a thick stack of documents.

These were backups of all the Thorne Group's shady financial transactions over the past three years. Of course, that was just my shield.

What really mattered was the black card in my hand. It held all the "severance pay," "holiday bonuses," and the millions I made investing using insider tips Julian casually dropped.

A total of twelve million dollars. "Ping." Mia sent me a screenshot of a wire transfer from Ryder.

The memo read: "Don't bother me for the next few days." Mia: "Two hundred and fifty grand. How generous. But guess what?

It pushed us right over our $10 million goal!" I replied with a meme: "Time to pull the net." For three years, we were like hardworking hamsters.

We didn't just hoard cash; we built networks and gathered resources. We even copurchased a commercial building in a newly developed district upstate.

We already named our new firm: Gemini PR. Everything was set. All we needed was Seraphina Sterling’s return.

Julian didn't come home for three days.

Every major tabloid and Instagram gossip page was flooded with photos of him and Seraphina. "Deep gazes," "intimate dinners," "reunion of the century." If I were the old "Chloe," I would have been crying my eyes out in the bathroom or spamming his phone with desperate calls.

Instead, I was busy packing my bags. Honestly, I didn't own much in Julian's penthouse. Aside from a few clothes, there were only the designer bags and jewelry he had gifted me.

I lined up those expensive handbags neatly in the living room. They were my "workplace hazard compensation." I was definitely taking them, just not like this.

I planned to call a luxury consignment dealer to cash them out all at once. As I was packing, the front door suddenly unlocked.

Julian walked in smelling of alcohol, followed closely by his legendary muse, Seraphina. Seraphina wore an elegant, custommade white dress.

She looked incredibly ethereal, like a delicate porcelain doll.

Seeing me, she froze for a second before offering a polite, practiced smile. "Julian, is this... the Chloe you mentioned?" Julian loosened his tie, not even sparing me a glance. "Yeah.

The girl who takes care of my place." "Takes care of my place." Five words. That was how he summarized my three years of devotion—a highend housekeeper.

I sneered inwardly but kept my face perfectly submissive. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Sterling.

I'm Chloe." Seraphina looked me up and down, a subtle look of superiority in her eyes. "I heard you're very capable, Chloe.

Thank you for taking care of Julian's stomach issues." "Just doing my job." Julian seemed annoyed by our small talk.

He pointed at the pile of luxury bags on the sofa. "What's all this?" I kept my eyes down. "Mr. Thorne, these are the gifts you gave me. Now that Ms.

Sterling is back, I didn't want them taking up space, so I was preparing to get rid of them." Seraphina chuckled softly. "Julian, Chloe is so thoughtful.

But honestly, I don't really care for last season's styles anyway.

Just throw them out." Julian replied carelessly, "Do whatever you want with them." "Throw them out?" That was literally hundreds of thousands of dollars sitting there!

I cursed their wasteful souls in my head, but smiled. "Of course.

I'll have someone haul them away tomorrow." Julian finally looked at me directly. "Seraphina is staying here tonight.

You sleep in the guest room." I smiled and nodded. "Of course, Mr. Thorne. But the guest room sheets haven't been changed yet.

I'll just check into a hotel so I don't disturb you two." With that, I grabbed my prepacked suitcase and walked toward the door without looking back.

Julian's cold voice rang out behind me. "Stop." My heart skipped a beat. Did he figure something out?

I turned around, putting on a perfectly confused expression. "Is there anything else, Mr. Thorne?" Julian walked over, towering over me.

A strange, unreadable emotion flashed in his dark eyes. "It's late. What hotel are you going to?" "A budget motel near the office.

It'll make it easier to get to work tomorrow," I lied smoothly. He seemed to relax slightly. He pulled a black card from his wallet and tossed it at me. "Go somewhere decent.

Don't embarrass the Thorne name." The card flew through the air and landed on the rug. Humiliation. Pure, raw humiliation.

In the past, I would have picked it up with teary eyes and thanked him. But today, I bent down, picked up the card, and placed it gently on the entryway console. "No thank you, Mr.

Thorne. I have my own money." With that, I pushed the door open and left. The cool night breeze swept away the last trace of my humility.

I hailed a cab and headed straight to Mia's apartment. The moment I got in, Mia called. "Chloe! Check YouTube!

The video is viral!" I opened YouTube and saw a video of Ryder that already had over a million views.

In the video, Ryder was down on one knee, holding a massive diamond ring, looking desperately up at Seraphina. And Mia was standing right next to them, holding a glass of red wine.

The next second, she splashed the entire glass of Cabernet straight onto Ryder's face. The comment section was flooded with people calling Mia a crazy, jealous golddigger.

But in the corner of the video, I saw the tiny, victorious smirk on Mia's lips.

When I got to Mia's apartment, she was sitting crosslegged on the floor, eating fried chicken. Two popped bottles of champagne sat next to her.

Seeing me, she raised a drumstick. "Cheers to being single!" I kicked off my heels and sat down beside her. "That was a clean splash." Mia took a bite of chicken and mumbled, "Girl, I've been practicing that splash in my head for three years.

I've wanted to do that to that clown forever." "But I seriously don't get Seraphina's game.

She's keeping Julian on a leash while accepting Ryder's advances?" I sneered. "Just keeping her options open.

Classic behavior for a professional muse." Mia rolled her eyes. "Does Ryder really think she actually likes him? She's just using him as a backup to make Julian jealous." "Whatever.

We're out." I pulled a printed resignation letter from my bag. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm dropping this off at HR." Mia pulled out her own document. "And this is my official termination of our engagement contract.

I already signed it.

Oh, and I couried the diamond ring back to him." "That ring?" I felt a little pang of pain. "Wasn't that a fivecarat rock?" "Fake," Mia giggled. "I sold the real one months ago and kept the cash.

The one I sent back is a highquality replica that cost me fifty bucks on Amazon." I gave her a massive thumbsup. "Brilliant." We clinked our glasses together. "To freedom." "To getting filthy rich." That night, we slept peacefully.

No cold penthouses, no highmaintenance billionaires to babysit. Just dreams of endless cash and a bright, independent future.

The next morning, I walked into the top floor of the Thorne Group wearing threeinch Louboutins. Julian wasn't in yet.

I placed my resignation letter right in the center of his desk where he couldn't miss it, then began packing my personal belongings. Honestly, I didn't have much.

Just a few notebooks and a tiny cactus I had kept for three years. Just as I taped up the box, the office door flew open. Julian walked in.

He looked terrible, with heavy dark circles under his eyes. Clearly, his romantic reunion hadn't gone as smoothly as he hoped.

Seeing me holding a box, he frowned. "What do you think you're doing?" I pointed to the envelope on his desk. "I'm resigning, Mr.

Thorne." Julian looked at me like I had just told a joke. He walked over, grabbed the envelope, and without even opening it, shoved it straight into the paper shredder.

The machine hummed, shredding my resignation letter into tiny white strips. "Chloe, there’s a limit to throwing tantrums." He sat down in his leather chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is this about Seraphina staying over last night?

Or the credit card?" He genuinely couldn't comprehend that I actually wanted to leave.

To him, I couldn't survive without him. "Neither," I said calmly. "I'm just done." Julian let out a cold laugh. "Done? Where could you possibly go?

If you leave the Thorne Group, who's going to hire a pretty face who knows nothing but how to serve coffee?" "Chloe, don't forget who paid off your gambling addict father's debts." Ah, that old card.

He had used that to threaten me countless times over the past three years.

But my father had died six months ago, and I had already paid back every single cent of that debt, with interest. "Mr. Thorne, you must be getting forgetful.

I wired that exact amount back to your personal account last month." Julian froze. He seemed to recall the notification.

His face darkened, and his eyes grew dangerously cold. "So, you think your wings are fully grown now?" "Chloe, I'll give you one last chance.

Put the box down, go make me a cup of coffee, and we'll pretend none of this happened." Looking at his arrogant, condescending face, I suddenly felt incredibly disgusted.

Three years. I couldn't believe I had tolerated this face for three whole years. "Julian." It was the first time I had ever called him by his first name.

He looked up in sheer shock. I unclipped my ID badge and dropped it onto his desk. "Make your own damn coffee. I'm done playing your maid." I grabbed my box and walked out.

Behind me, Julian’s furious voice roared: "Chloe Miller! If you walk out of that door today, don't you ever think about coming back!" I didn't stop. I didn't even look back.

Go back? Not in a million years.