The first thing I heard when I opened my eyes was her whisper, choked with perfectly crafted sobs. “I just… I hate that she has my face.” The voice belonged to Seraphina Vance, America’s sweetheart, influencer, and the woman I was created to be a carbon copy of. The man she was whispering to was Ashton Blackwood, my husband, the billionaire CEO who owned half of Silicon Valley and, apparently, me. “I want you to destroy it,” she breathed. I felt the air shift. Ashton’s deep voice, the one that could make markets tremble, was about to utter the two words that would seal my fate: “Bodyguards.” Before he could, my fingers, already anticipating this, tapped the screen of my phone. The slick, upbeat jingle of a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon’s commercial filled the tense silence of the penthouse living room. “Tired of sharing a face? At Elite Aesthetics, your beauty is YOURS alone. Unforgettable. Unique. Unparalleled.” In that moment, the roles of hunter and prey were about to be reversed. 1 Ashton’s brow furrowed, a thundercloud gathering on his handsome face. “Lily, what the hell is this?” I adopted my gentlest, most wounded tone. “Ashton, darling, if Seraphina is so upset about us looking alike, it must be because my face is just… unbearable to look at.” I let a small, fake tear well in my eye. “So, instead of hurting me, why don’t you just book an appointment for her? A little nip, a little tuck, and poof! Her face will be one-of-a-kind again.” To my calculated surprise, Ashton actually nodded, his logic-driven brain latching onto the "solution." “Seraphina, honey, I think Lily has a point. It’s a great idea. I’ll book you the best surgeon in LA tomorrow.” Seraphina’s crying choked off instantly. She shot me a look that could curdle milk. “She’s a malicious bitch!” she shrieked. Oh, the irony. You wanting to have my face melted off isn't malicious, but me suggesting a nose job is? The hypocrisy was thick enough to cut with a knife. I took out a silk handkerchief and dabbed at my dry eyes, my voice dripping with manufactured sympathy. “I was only trying to help. I feel so bad for you, Ashton, having to deal with all this drama. I just wanted to ease your burden. How could she misunderstand me so terribly?” Ashton’s masculine ego puffed up like a peacock. He turned to soothe his precious Seraphina. Incensed, Seraphina blurted out, “Then why don’t you make her get the surgery?” Ashton’s mouth, which had been opening to reason with her, froze in place. He looked like a fish, gaping and silent. It was almost comical. Seraphina, seeing her advantage, pressed on, her voice now a saccharine promise. “If she gets surgery, Ashton, I’ll never bring up this whole ‘stand-in’ thing again. We can finally be happy.” The billionaire tycoon, hearing the magic words, actually started to nod again. My internal alarms blared. I had to cut in, fast. “Seraphina, it’s no use if I get the surgery!” I cried out, my voice laced with faux desperation. 2 “And why not?” she demanded, stepping closer. I bit my lip, looking from her to Ashton, as if I were holding a terrible secret. “I… I can’t say.” “You have no reason, you’re just trying to trick me!” she accused, her voice rising. Ashton’s gaze turned suspicious. It was now or never. I took a deep breath and let it all out in a rush of feigned innocence. “Because I’m not his only one!” I exclaimed, loud enough for the entire penthouse to hear. “There’s Tiffany in Tampa, Brittany in Boston, Chloe in Chicago… Ashton has a whole network of girls who look like you, scattered all across the country! There are hundreds of us!” Silence. Dead, deafening silence. I ignored the greenish tint spreading across Seraphina’s face and continued in my most helpful tone, “So you see, even if I change my face, there are still all the others. It would take him a year and a half just to track them all down. The only permanent solution… is for you to change yours.” Ashton started coughing violently, a desperate, hacking sound. He turned to Seraphina, his eyes overflowing with a sudden, desperate love. “Seraphina, baby, I just… I made a mistake any man would make. Please, forgive me.” Her voice was a syrupy sweet whisper. “Oh, Ashton. I’m not angry with you.” I saw my opening and took it. “See? Miss Seraphina is so understanding. She must have agreed to the surgery, then.” She choked. “I…” Ashton, desperate to please, made a grand promise. “I’ll get you the top surgeon in the world, I swear. It’ll be perfect. Flawless.” Trapped, with no other way out, Seraphina had to agree through gritted teeth. “Then you have to promise you’ll only love me from now on.” “I promise.” It was such a touching scene of reconciliation. And here I was, his legal wife, feeling like the third wheel in their twisted love story. Seraphina shot me a triumphant, hateful look. “Ashton, I have one more condition. I want Lily to be my personal caretaker through my recovery.” Ashton, the ultimate simp for his one true love, agreed without a second thought. 3 That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, replaying the original script in my head. In the novel I’d somehow been thrust into, today was the day Ashton was supposed to scar my face with boiling water. Then, Seraphina would have tricked me into a back-alley surgery that would have completely destroyed my face. After that, she’d get a minor injury, and Ashton would break my legs in retaliation before throwing me out. I’d end up sold by one of his enemies into some underground hellhole, contract a disease, and die a beggar on the streets. Meanwhile, Ashton and Seraphina would live happily ever after with their nine kids and a goddamn picket fence. It was the most ridiculously skewed, insane plot I had ever read. The author clearly didn't give a damn about anyone but the main couple. Well, screw that. The old Lily was gone. This was where the new Lily—the real me—took over. Thinking about Seraphina’s post-op face, a wicked grin spread across my own. Botox disaster or full-on melted Ken doll? I couldn’t wait to find out. 4 As expected, the unexpected happened. Oh, wow. So much for the “top surgeon in the world.” The hack job he did wouldn’t even pass muster at a strip-mall clinic in rural Texas. Her entire face looked like a lump of rising dough that had been left out in the sun. Her chin had the structural integrity of a melted candle. And her lips, the pouty feature Ashton had adored, were now two swollen, fleshy worms that couldn't quite close. I had to dig my nails into my thigh to keep from bursting out laughing. Seraphina threw herself at Ashton, her sobs wet and muffled. “Ashton, boo-hoo, I can’t let anyone see me like this!” Even Ashton couldn’t stomach the sight. He physically turned his head away. Seraphina stared in disbelief. “You’re disgusted by me too, aren’t you? I can’t live like this!” She then began a dramatic, slow-motion run for the window, looking back over her shoulder every three steps. Ashton followed in an equally theatrical pursuit. “No, honey, I’m not! Seraphina, don’t do anything stupid!” I watched the cringey, slow-motion scene from a soap opera play out before me. Honestly, if Ashton had just walked at a normal pace, he would have caught her in five seconds. “Seraphina, I’ll love you no matter what you look like!” “Oh, Ashton!” “Oh, Seraphina!” Blech. I literally felt my stomach churn. Before, when she cried, it was a delicate, heart-wrenching sight. Now, it was like watching a water-injected ham try to emote. It was an assault on the eyes. I needed to go bleach them. 5 Ashton came downstairs, holding a tray of food with a frustrated look on his face. “You. Go make Seraphina eat.” I pointed at myself, feigning confusion. “Me?” His patience snapped. “If it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened to her!” He turned to the butler. “For every meal she misses, you will slap Lily ten times and deny her food for the day. You stop when Seraphina starts eating.” I saw the butler’s hand twitch as he started towards me. Fine. You want to play hardball? I gritted my teeth. “I have a way.” I was fuming. What did I ever do to these people? Did I burn down their ancestors' log cabin? They wanted her to eat? Simple enough. I stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a handful of supplies, and marched upstairs, not forgetting to snatch the tray of food from Ashton’s hands on my way past.
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