Chapter 1

In the blistering 110-degree summer heat, I was kicked out of the luxury celebrity apartments.

Inside, the reigning superstar Sean—the very man I’d been fake-dating for PR—was shouting furiously into his phone at our boss.

"With my current clout, do I look like I need a PR romance?!"

"Turning fiction into reality? Shoving her on my social media for six months was bad enough, but now you drop her right on my doorstep?!"

"Is this agency a matchmaking service? Why are you throwing every D-list nobody at me?!"

The call abruptly ended. The next second, my duffel bag was kicked out the front door, sending my belongings tumbling across the hallway floor.

I crouched down, gathering my things piece by piece.

Six months ago, desperate to pay for my mother’s emergency surgery, I used my looks to sign a three-year contract with the entertainment agency.

I thought I could grit my teeth and endure it, but I hadn't even lasted a year.

I reached into my pocket. I had thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents left to my name.

Right then, my phone chimed—another overdue payment alert from the hospital.

At my wit's end, I scrolled through my contacts. Finally, my only option was to text the guy I’d been secretly dating online for two years:

[I don't have a place to stay tonight. And I'm completely broke.]

He replied in seconds:

[Transfer: $1,000,000]

[Baby, come to my place. Quick. The spare key is right behind the fire hose cabinet.]

Following the GPS coordinates he sent, I walked for thirty minutes, drenched in sweat.

When I finally looked up, my jaw dropped.

It was the exact same luxury apartment building I had just been thrown out of.

Staring at the familiar golden gates, I questioned my entire existence.

The guy I’d been dating online for two years lived in this elite celebrity residence, too?

I refused to believe it.

Hauling my brutally heavy suitcase under the blazing sun, I circled the perimeter of the complex twice.

Yet the GPS pin stubbornly pointed right here.

My phone vibrated violently. It was a message from my online boyfriend, "Shay."

[Baby, are you there yet? Why does your location show you walking in circles downstairs?]

A surge of warmth hit my chest, followed by a wave of embarrassment.

I couldn’t exactly tell him I’d just been booted out by my PR partner and was currently wandering around like a homeless person.

I bit my lip and texted back: [The complex is huge. I can’t find the right entrance.]

He replied instantly: [Silly girl. Just scan the temporary visitor pass at the front desk. I’ll come down to meet you.]

Taking a deep breath, I decided to go inside.

Maybe the GPS was glitching, and he just lived in an adjacent wing.

I tapped the pass and hurried into the lobby.

A blast of cold AC washed over me, sending a violent shiver down my spine.

Over by the elevators, a tall, commanding figure was reflected in the metallic doors.

It was Sean.

He was dressed in the latest Gucci designer streetwear, wearing dark sunglasses, radiating that untouchable superstar aura.

Right now, he was staring at his phone, his lips curled into an extraordinarily gentle smile.

In the six months we had played a couple online, I had never once seen him smile like that.

Seeing him again made me instinctively slow my steps. The last thing I wanted was trouble.

But the elevator chimed, and when he looked up, our eyes locked.

The tenderness on his face vanished instantly, replaced by unfiltered disgust.

"What are you still doing here?"

Sean’s brow furrowed, his voice biting.

"Where’s security? Are we letting any stray dog wander in now?"

I tightened my grip on the handle of my suitcase, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"I’m not here for you. I’m here to visit a friend."

Sean scoffed, as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Keep spinning stories."

"A broke, D-list nobody like you knows an owner here?"

"Stalking me all the way to the elevator—what’s your next line? That you've had a change of heart and want to crawl into my bed?"

Trembling with rage, I pulled out my phone.

"I really have a friend living here! I can show you our chat logs!"

I frantically tapped the screen to prove my innocence.

Naturally, at that exact second, my screen flickered and went black. Overheated and damp with sweat, it had completely died.

No matter how many times I pressed the power button, there was zero response.

Sean glanced down at my dead phone, the contempt in his eyes deepening.

"Keep acting."

"Quite the little performance."

"Pulling a stunt this pathetic is honestly sickening."

Without another word, he pulled out his phone and dialed building management.

"This is Sean Hayes."

"A stalker followed me inside and is harassing me right by the elevators."

"Send security up immediately and throw her out."

My heart sank. In a high-end luxury complex, security moves fast.

Two minutes later, two burly security guards rushed over.

Ignoring my frantic explanations, they grabbed me by the arms and dragged me toward the exit.

"Let go of me! I'm really visiting someone!"

My struggles only made them hold tighter.

"Crash!"

I was shoved out the front doors.

My suitcase tumbled down the concrete steps, the zipper bursting open, spilling my clothes across the pavement once again.

The guard dusted off his hands and warned coldly, "Harass Mr. Hayes again, and we’re handing you straight to the police."

I collapsed onto the ground, humiliated, as tears finally spilled over.