On our sixth anniversary, I put on my sexy lingerie, prepared seven whole boxes of condoms, and planned to give Marcus a surprise. But even by dawn, he never came home. Until someone anonymously sent me a photo and a text message. In the photo, Marcus had his arms around a disheveled woman. He was cupping her face, kissing her passionately. The text had only one line: "His first love is back. Time for you, the substitute, to fuck off." Six years. A whole six years. I thought he'd settled down for me, but in the end, I was just a similar face, a counterfeit he could summon at will. I didn't cry or make a scene. I took off that ridiculous lingerie and dialed my family's number. "I agree to the arranged marriage." Gianna POV I sat in the reserved French restaurant, watching the ice cream cake on the table gradually melt. The clock on the wall had already pointed to eleven at night. Today was the sixth anniversary of Marcus and me being together. For today, I'd reserved his favorite restaurant half a month in advance, and even prepared a men's engagement ring in my purse. I wanted to propose to him. But Marcus stood me up. His phone was unreachable, messages went unanswered. It wasn't until my best friend sent me a screenshot from social media that my heart completely sank to the bottom. In the photo, at New York's largest private club in a VIP room, Marcus sat on a sofa with a red-eyed, pitiful-looking woman leaning against him. Marcus's head was lowered, his usually rebellious features now filled with tenderness as he carefully wiped her tears with a tissue. The caption read: "After all this time, Mr. Barrett's dream girl has finally returned from abroad." Dream girl. I stared at those words, feeling cold all over. I'd known Marcus for six years. Everyone said this good girl had tamed Marcus's wild heart, and I'd believed it myself. Until I saw that woman's face in the photo, and suddenly understood. That woman had a beauty mark at the corner of her eye, and when she smiled, her features were seventy percent similar to mine. So I was never anyone special, just a substitute for consolation. I don't know how I walked out of the restaurant. When I came to my senses, I was already standing outside the club's private room door. The door wasn't fully closed, and jeering voices drifted out from inside. "Mr. Barrett, now that Clara's back, what are you planning to do with that substitute at home?" "What else? Give her some money and send her packing. If she didn't look like Clara, would Mr. Barrett have kept her around for six years?" "True. A fake is still a fake. Now that the real deal's back, she naturally has to make room." I froze in place, the blood in my body seeming to flow backward in that moment. I pushed open the door. The laughter in the room came to an abrupt halt. Everyone's eyes fell on me, filled with undisguised mockery and contemptuous amusement. Marcus looked up. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He didn't let go of the arm around Clara Hayes, only speaking in a cold tone: "Why are you here?" No explanation, no guilt, just displeasure at being interrupted. I looked at him, my voice hoarse: "Today is our sixth anniversary." Marcus seemed to remember only then, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes: "I had something come up today. We'll make up the anniversary tomorrow." "What could be more important than our anniversary?" I stared hard at the woman in his arms. Clara seemed startled and shrank further into Marcus's embrace, her voice delicate: "Marcus, this must be Miss Hayes, right? I'm sorry, it's all my fault. I just came back and was feeling down, so I asked you to keep me company. You should go back with her. Don't fight because of me." This retreat-as-advance tactic instantly ignited Marcus's protective instincts. His face turned cold as he shielded Clara behind him, looking at me like I was an unreasonable stranger. "Gianna, Clara just returned and her emotions are unstable. Don't make a scene here. We'll talk about whatever it is when we get home." Making a scene. Six years of our relationship couldn't compare to a single tear from Clara Hayes. I looked at this man I'd loved for six years and suddenly felt he was completely unfamiliar. I didn't become hysterical, didn't cry. I simply calmly took out the engagement ring I'd prepared from my purse and, in front of everyone, threw it into the nearby trash can. "No need to make it up." With that, I turned and walked out into the pouring rain.
Gianna POV I walked in the rain all night. By the time I returned to the apartment, I'd developed a low fever. I didn't take medicine, just curled up on the sofa, looking at the traces of our shared life throughout the room, feeling nothing but irony. Marcus didn't come back until noon the next day, reeking of alcohol. Seeing my pale face on the sofa, his frown deepened. "Had enough of your tantrum last night?" He loosened his tie, his tone condescending and patronizing. "Clara just got back. She has no friends here. It's only right that I look after her more. You're my girlfriend. Be more understanding. Don't always act like a resentful wife." I looked up at his self-righteous face, feeling only absurdity. "Understanding? Marcus, what exactly am I to you?" "What more do you want?" Marcus impatiently interrupted me. "I already said you're my girlfriend. What are you still complaining about? Oh right, that 'Starfall' comic copyright you have—the company's decided to give it to Clara as the lead artist." I stood up abruptly, looking at him in disbelief. "Starfall" was a comic I'd spent three years of my life creating. It was about to be adapted for film and television, with Marcus's company handling the development. "That's my life's work! Why should she get it?" "Clara studied art abroad. She needs a presentable project to establish herself in the industry." Marcus spoke as if it were completely reasonable. "You don't need this one copyright anyway. I'll compensate you with a few more later. Clara has depression. She can't handle setbacks. Just think of it as helping her out this once." "I help her? Who's going to help me?" I trembled with anger. "Marcus, to please your first love, you're going to take my life's work and give it to her?" "Gianna!" Marcus shouted sharply. "When did you become so selfish and malicious? Clara is so sick. What's wrong with you giving in to her? I've already decided. Legal will send you the transfer contract this afternoon. Just sign it." With that, he slammed the door and left. I collapsed onto the sofa, tears finally falling uncontrollably. Six years of devotion had earned me the label "selfish and malicious." That afternoon, legal indeed sent the contract. I didn't sign. I called Marcus directly, but he hung up. When I called again, Clara answered. "Miss Hayes, Marcus is in the shower." Clara's voice couldn't hide her smugness. "You received the 'Starfall' contract, right? Thank you so much. Marcus said this is his welcome home gift for me. Don't worry, I'll draw it well." My knuckles turned white gripping the phone. Without saying a word, I hung up. I opened my computer and looked at the thousands of "Starfall" sketches in my folder, my heart aching. Just then, my phone rang. It was Xavier calling. "Gianna, Mom and Dad found you a match for an arranged marriage. Second son of the Italian Sinclair family. His character and background are impeccable. That unreliable boyfriend of yours has been with you six years and won't even meet the family. Break up already and come home to get married." In the past, hearing such words, I would refuse without hesitation, even having huge fights with my family over Marcus. But this time, looking at the glaring transfer contract on my screen, I fell silent for a long time. "Xavier," my voice was hoarse, "let me think about it some more." I still needed a little more time to completely kill that ridiculous hope in my heart.
Gianna POV For the next few days, Marcus never returned to the apartment. But I was forced to watch his and Clara's "sweet daily life" on various social media platforms. Clara joined Marcus's company and became the art director of "Starfall." She posted: "Thank you Marcus for having my back. A new beginning, please support me." The accompanying photo was Marcus's back as he draped a coat over her shoulders. I looked on coldly, neither liking nor questioning. Over the weekend, Marcus unexpectedly came home and tossed me a haute couture dress. "There's a charity gala tonight. You're coming with me." His tone was stiff, still seemingly angry about what happened days ago. I wanted to refuse, but when I saw the dress, I paused. It was a style I'd casually mentioned liking half a month ago after seeing it in a magazine. That dying ember in my heart seemed to flicker back to life. I thought Marcus still cared about me, at least a little. That evening, I wore the dress and appeared at the gala on Marcus's arm. However, the moment we walked into the hall, the surrounding gazes instantly turned strange. Following everyone's line of sight, my blood froze. Not far away, Clara Hayes wore the exact same haute couture dress as me and was chatting with others with a charming smile. Wearing the same outfit wasn't scary. What was scary was that around Clara's neck was the diamond necklace Marcus had won at auction last month for an astronomical price—"Eternal Heart." At the time, Marcus said it was a gift for his future wife. Now, this necklace was around Clara's neck. The whispers around us entered my ears without any attempt at discretion. "Isn't this the real deal and the substitute wearing the same outfit? How awkward." "So what if they're dressed the same? Look at the necklace around Clara's neck. Marcus spent a hundred million on that at auction. Gianna doesn't have a single decent piece of jewelry besides that dress." "A fake is still a fake. Even dressed in royal robes, she won't look like a prince." My face turned deathly pale. I instinctively looked at Marcus beside me. Marcus's expression was also ugly, but he didn't comfort me. Instead, he directly shook off my hand and strode toward Clara. "Why are you wearing this dress?" Marcus frowned at Clara. Clara's eyes reddened, biting her lip pitifully: "Marcus, I'm sorry. I didn't know Miss Hayes was wearing this too. You had someone deliver it to my apartment yesterday. I thought you specially picked it for me..." Marcus froze, then turned to look at his assistant who had followed. The assistant explained, sweating profusely: "Mr. Barrett, you said yesterday to order two of the latest style, one sent to the apartment and one for Miss Hayes. Maybe... maybe the brand mixed them up and sent two identical ones." The truth was out. It wasn't that Marcus remembered my preferences. He was buying clothes for Clara and just happened to get me one too. I stood there like a complete joke. Clara timidly looked at me: "Miss Hayes, since we're wearing the same thing, how about I go change? So you won't feel uncomfortable." Marcus grabbed Clara, looking coldly at me: "Change what? You're not in good health. Why tire yourself out? Gianna, go wait in the lounge. I'll call you when the gala ends." He actually wanted to hide me, his actual girlfriend, to avoid making Clara uncomfortable! I looked at Marcus's cold face, and the last spark at the bottom of my heart was completely extinguished. "No need." My voice was so calm even I found it incredible. "You two have fun." I turned and left the banquet hall without any reluctance.
Gianna POV The humiliation at the gala was just the beginning. The next day, my social media accounts were attacked. Clara posted several core concept drawings of "Starfall" online with the caption: "Stayed up several nights for this. Hope you all like it." Below were water army accounts Marcus had bought and Clara's fans flooding the comments with praise. But soon, sharp-eyed netizens noticed that these concept drawings had a style extremely similar to my previous work. Clara immediately posted an ambiguous update: "Some art styles are ingrained in your bones, after all I studied abroad for so many years. As for certain people who keep imitating me, I hope you can find your own style." With these words, she directly painted me as a plagiarist. "The substitute even plagiarizes the art style? So disgusting!" "Gianna Hayes get out of the art community! Plagiarism dog!" Cyberbullying surged like a tsunami. My private messages were flooded with vicious abuse. I didn't panic. I calmly organized all my drafts, timestamps, and source files from three years of creating "Starfall," preparing to post a clarification. Just as I was about to press send, my computer screen suddenly went black. Immediately after, the apartment door was violently pushed open. Marcus stormed in with an icy aura and snatched my computer, smashing it hard on the ground. With a loud crash, the computer shattered into pieces. I froze in place, looking at him in disbelief: "Are you insane?!" "You're the insane one!" Marcus's eyes were bloodshot as he pointed at my nose and roared. "Gianna, are you trying to drive Clara to death? She saw the controversy online, her depression acted up, and she almost slit her wrists just now!" I laughed bitterly: "She tried to commit suicide? She stole my life's work, turned the tables to accuse me of plagiarism, and now she's the victim?" "What stealing? I told you 'Starfall' has already been given to her!" Marcus was completely unreasonable. "Once you post that so-called evidence, Clara's reputation will be completely ruined! She's a girl. How is she supposed to survive in this industry after that?" "What about my reputation? My life's work?!" My eyes reddened, my voice hoarse. "Marcus, I'm also a girl, and I've been with you for six years! For her sake, you're going to destroy me completely?" Looking at my red eyes, a flash of reluctance crossed Marcus's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness. "You're strong inside. Being cursed at won't hurt you. Clara is different. She's too fragile." Marcus pulled out a black card from his wallet and threw it on the table. "There's five million in this card. Password is your birthday. Post an update immediately admitting you imitated Clara's art style and publicly apologize to her. Then this matter is over." I looked at that black card as if looking at the filthiest thing in the world. "What if I don't apologize?" "Then don't blame me for being ruthless." Marcus's eyes were ice cold. "I'll have legal sue you for violating company trade secrets and make sure you can never pick up a pen again." To protect Clara, he would personally destroy my career. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, only deathly stillness remained. "Fine. I understand." Marcus thought I'd given in. His expression softened slightly: "Be good. Once this blows over, I'll take you to Europe for a vacation." With that, he hurriedly turned and left, rushing back to the hospital to accompany his white moonlight. I looked at the computer fragments scattered across the floor without picking up that black card. I took out my phone and called Xavier. "Xavier, I agree to the arranged marriage. Come pick me up and take me home."
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