Malcolm just stood there, replaying what I’d just said. Honestly—why does this guy have to overthink everything so hard?

Across from him, Yara stopped sobbing for half a second, then burst into even more dramatic tears. "Malcolm, I’ll leave… I just want you to be happy."

With that, she bit her lip and hurried off, her tiny frame shrinking into the distance. Malcolm stayed rooted to the spot, every emotion under the sun warring across his face.

Watching this play out had me internally screaming. "Malcolm…"

[What are you waiting for, dummy? She’s already walking out! You’re just standing there like a deer caught in headlights! She’s heartbroken—go after her!]

Shaken out of his trance, Malcolm dragged his gaze from Yara’s retreating back to me, looking totally caught off guard.

My own fiancé, and I’m the one pushing him to run after another girl? Who would even believe that?

"Malcolm?" I tugged gently on his sleeve to yank him back to the present. "About Yara…"

[What are you still doing loitering here? She’ll be gone any second—can’t even chase a girl right?]

Malcolm flicked one last glance at Yara’s disappearing figure, then held me in a long, searching stare. "Jolie, wait here for me. I’ll come back and explain everything later."

I watched Malcolm leave with a perfectly rehearsed look of crushed heartbreak. The second he was out the door, I dropped the act entirely.

"Pfft, who’s gonna wait around for you? I’m clocking out of this mess."

With that, I sauntered out of Malcolm’s office building, leisurely pulling out my phone to call a cab.

Let me backtrack a little. At a company party a while back, Malcolm had been instantly hooked by how much Yara looked like me. Not long after, she got hired at Salazar Enterprises, and climbed the ranks fast to end up as Malcolm’s personal assistant.

There were dozens of more qualified applicants for that spot, and Yara wasn’t anything special on paper. How’d she beat all of them to get the job? Some questions are better left unanswered—it’s all just part of the script, after all.

After I moved back to the country, Malcolm dropped Yara—his previous little stand-in—like a hot potato and proposed to me in a hurry, all because she was just a copy of me.

Yara knows all the little moments she had with Malcolm only happened because she looked like me. But she can’t let go of her feelings, and she can’t stand to watch the man she loves be with someone else. So today she showed up at the office to resign.

Malcolm, torn between his feelings for me and not wanting to let Yara go, tried to talk her into staying. She poured her heart out to him, and ended up in his arms… and of course, that’s exactly when I walked in on the whole sappy scene.

I was supposed to lose my mind. While Malcolm was in a meeting, I’d corner Yara and slap her, put her in her place. But Malcolm walked in right as I did it.

Now that Yara’s run off, Malcolm’s supposed to chase after her. That’s how the story goes: he catches up to her, they go through all their little trials and tribulations, finally get rid of me, the evil obstacle, and ride off into the sunset together.

But that ending’s still a long ways off. I’m the villainous doppelgänger who just got back into town, and I haven’t even gotten started with my part yet. All I had to do was stick to the script until I found my way back to my real life.

When I got home, my dad was out. Only my mom was there… plus an unexpected guest—Malcolm’s mom.

"Jolie, you’re home already?"

Both women looked up when I walked in the room.

"Yep," I answered with a sweet, soft smile. "Hi Mom, hello Mrs. Salazar."

My mom and Mrs. Salazar have been friends for forever, and they’re the whole reason Malcolm and I ended up engaged in the first place.

"You went to see Malcolm today, why are you back so early?" My mom glanced at the clock, confused. "It’s still so early, why don’t you stay there for dinner?"

My cheery smile slipped for half a second. "He didn’t have time for me. He went after Yara instead."

Mrs. Salazar and my mom exchanged a confused look.

"What on earth happened?" Mrs. Salazar furrowed her brow, leaning in when she saw my near-tears expression. "Jolie, did Malcolm mistreat you?"

I whispered, "No, Auntie… it’s just… I’m not good enough for him."

Confusion clouded Mrs. Salazar’s face even more. "Nonsense, you’re the only daughter-in-law I’ve ever wanted. Don’t talk down about yourself like that."

I bit my lip, leaning hard into the role of the broken-hearted wronged fiancée. "Auntie, I went to Malcolm’s office today, and I saw him with Yara…"

I trailed off, looking completely devastated, and left the rest unsaid.

Mrs. Salazar’s face hardened into anger. "That boy’s engaged and still can’t act right, running after other women. Jolie, don’t you worry. I’ll sort this out for you."

With that, she dialed Malcolm’s number, her voice sharp as a knife when she spoke. "Malcolm, get over to the Dunn’s house right now."

I could almost hear him pushing back, from the way Mrs. Salazar’s frustration boiled over. "If you don’t get over here right now and apologize to Jolie, don’t you dare even think about stepping foot back in the Salazar house ever again!"

She slammed the call shut and turned to my mom, who looked just as displeased, and offered a placating smile. "Linette, Malcolm’s just being an idiot boy. Please don’t take this to heart."

My mom pulled off a strained smile. "It’s fine, Claire. It’s probably just a misunderstanding."

Mrs. Salazar huffed an awkward, frustrated laugh. "Malcolm’s behavior is absolutely unacceptable, especially after Jolie caught him red-handed."

I kept my heartbroken face perfectly in place, while inwardly patting myself on the back for a performance well done.

Another day, another level up to my acting game.

To be fair, I wasn’t doing anything wrong to Malcolm. Sure, he’s probably fated to end up with Yara, his one true leading lady, but right now? I’m the one engaged to him.

After all, we announced our engagement at a whole big public party. Malcolm’s little affair was so tacky—it’s like finding cash in the trash: yeah it’s free money, but who wants to dig it out of garbage?

Picking it up felt like handling something rotten, but throwing it away just felt wasteful.

And wouldn't you know it? Right then, I got a front-row seat to Yara and Malcolm tangled all over each other.

Naturally? I wasn't about to let that slide without making a whole thing of it.

Malcolm showed up fast; the soft rumble of a car pulling up outside drifted through the living room.

He stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the space until they landed on me, and they lingered just a beat too long.

"Hello, Mrs. Dunn."

Malcolm greeted Olivia with a polite nod of his head.

Claire nodded back, just a small tilt. "Malcolm, have a seat." She gestured for the staff to bring in coffee and snacks.

Malcolm settled in beside his mom and asked, "What did you call me over for, Mom?"

"How dare you even ask that?" His mother's voice boiled over with exasperation, and she swatted his back hard. "Did you upset Jolie earlier today?"

Malcolm flicked a glance at my downcast face, searching for any hint of what I was feeling… and came up empty.

He wracked his brain, dead sure he hadn't done anything to piss me off. All he could do was shake his head. "I didn't…"

The words barely left his mouth before my thoughts roared back to what I'd been thinking back at the office:

[Didn't he do it? All men are liars. You can't believe a single word that comes out of their mouths—they're pros at deceiving people.]

[Does he really think he can deny he was holding Yara in his office five minutes ago? Or that she wasn't sobbing in his arms? How does he even have the balls to lie to my face when I'm standing right here as a witness?]

My face stayed perfectly calm, but inside my head, a hurricane of rage and hurt was spinning out of control.

Malcolm froze a little, his gaze pinning to my face.

Putting two and two together between the dark look on my face and how urgent his mom had been to get him over here, Malcolm rubbed his temples. His voice came out deep, strained as he tried to explain: "I told you, it's just a misunderstanding."

I kept my face blank as anything, but on the inside I was rolling my eyes so hard they almost got stuck:

[What kind of misunderstanding has an engaged man holding another woman who's already made it clear she wants him?]

At the same time, his mother frowned. "Malcolm, Jolie saw it with her own two eyes," she said firmly. "You need to tell Jolie exactly what's going on between you and that Yara girl."

Malcolm threw a heavy, somber glance my way where I sat next to Olivia.

I felt his eyes on me, and immediately put on my sweet, fragile little act.

[What are you staring at, you two-timing smooth talker? Trying to juggle both of us at the same time!]

Malcolm sighed. "Mom, nothing happened between me and Yara. She slipped and fell right into my arms by accident."

Again, I rolled my eyes internally:

[Really? Of every single place she could fall, it just had to be right into your arms? How convenient for you two.]

"Is that really all that happened?" Olivia asked, her tone thick with doubt.

Malcolm's eyes didn't leave my smooth, unblemished face. "Yes. That's all."

Claire nodded and turned to me for my take. "Jolie, does Malcolm's explanation satisfy you?"

I put on my best shy, hesitant act and glanced up through my lashes softy. "If it's just a misunderstanding, I trust Malcolm."

"I believe him. Yara fell into his arms by accident, and Malcolm was just being a gentleman catching her."

On the inside, I was cringing so hard at my own sickly sweet tone:

[Ugh. That was so nauseating I could throw up.]

Malcolm let out a deep sigh.

Claire was over the moon to have such an understanding future daughter-in-law. She patted my hand warmly and grinned.

"What do you think, Olivia?" Claire Salazar asked—even though I'd already forgiven Malcolm, she still wanted reassurance from her friend.

Olivia Dunn didn't think much of it. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, it was no big deal.

"Malcolm, Jolie is such a wonderful girl. I like her more than I can say," Olivia said. "She's the only one I want as a daughter-in-law for this family. No one else will ever do!"

"You need to treat her right, you hear me? Can you promise me that?"

With a sigh, Malcolm nodded, giving in to his mother's demand.

With the silly little misunderstanding sorted out so easily, Claire was glowing. She waved a hand, giddy as she instructed the staff to prepare a dinner with spiced honey cake and pulled pork.

She warmly insisted Olivia and I stay for dinner.

"That's okay, Mrs. Salazar," I hurried to decline. "Earlier, Malcolm and I never got around to eating lunch." I lifted my gaze to Malcolm, letting my expression go soft and affectionate, a sharp contrast to his serious face. "I'd rather go out to eat with him instead."

Malcolm frowned, holding my gaze.

I smiled sweetly, my eyes crinkling like little crescent moons. "Isn't that right, Malcolm?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded silently.

"Oh, I get it," Claire chuckled. "I won't keep you two then. Olivia and I will just have dinner here—we won't intrude on your date night."

After we said our goodbyes, I was already in Malcolm's car, staring out the passenger window.

"Where do you want to eat?" Malcolm asked, turning the key in the ignition.

I thought it over for a second, then gave him an address.

It wasn't far from the Salazar place, right downtown, but with rush hour traffic, we couldn't go fast.

Malcolm drove one-handed, sneaking a quick look at me out of the corner of his eye.

As night fell, the city lights started flicking on one by one.

Neon signs along the street glowed and flickered, painting shifting shadows across my face that made me look almost dreamlike.

The car rolled steady, and a soft breeze blew in through the open window, lifting a strand of hair off my cheek and drifting it over my eyes for a second.

Malcolm snapped his attention back to the road and took a deep drag off the cigarette between his fingers.

He'd grown up with me, and I'd always been the gold standard of beauty to him—his perfect dream girl.

If only I hadn't spent those years living in Europe… and Yara, who looked so damn much like me…

Malcolm's brow furrowed as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

I felt what he was doing, frowned, and rolled my window all the way down.

I shifted a little, leaning half out to get a breath of air that wasn't thick with cigarette smoke.

[Seriously? Why do you have to smoke in a tiny closed car? Can't he ever think about anyone but himself?]

Malcolm froze mid-inhale, stuck between exhaling the smoke he'd already pulled in and holding it in his lungs.

[He's really over here smoking when his poor little girlfriend just got kicked out by her landlord and has nowhere to go. Shouldn't he be rushing over to help her right now?]

Malcolm's brain spun for a second, then he caught on who my "beloved" was talking about.

"Jolie…"

Right as he was about to ask me what I meant, a jolt of hot excitement shot through my chest:

[There she is! Finally found you! You're so hard to track down, Yara!]

My eyes lit up, locking dead on the forlorn figure outside the window.

Malcolm followed my gaze, and there on the sidewalk was Yara's thin, heartbroken silhouette.

She was dragging a suitcase, hefting a huge duffel bag, and wandering aimlessly down the street.

I reined in my excitement and snuck a quick glance at the driver's seat, racking my brain for how to nudge Malcolm into noticing her on his own.

[Stop the damn car and get her in already! What are you even waiting for?]

Before I could cook up a plan, the car slammed to a stop at the curb. Malcolm's gaze was already locked on Yara.

The second the car rolled to a stop, Malcolm unclipped his seatbelt in a flash, threw open the door, and marched straight for Yara like he had a mission.

I stayed put in the passenger seat, comfortable as can be, watching his urgent strides in the side mirror and shaking my head in amused disbelief.

That’s the unarguable magic the heroine has over the hero, isn’t it?

I’d been scanning the sidewalk myself, dead set on spotting Yara first. But somehow, Malcolm’d picked her out of the crowd of cars and pedestrians before I even had. Makes you wonder if there’s some invisible magnetic pull between those two—otherwise, finding her on this chaotic, packed street would’ve been damn near impossible.

In this story, Yara’s an orphan who worked her ass off to claw her way into a position at Malcolm’s company. She put in endless hours, and over time, she fell hard for her boss. Then she found out Malcolm’s kindness only existed because she looked exactly like someone he’d loved and lost. Heartbroken, she couldn’t bear to keep working there, so she handed in her resignation.

Malcolm begged and pleaded for her to stay, but Yara wouldn’t budge. After leaving her letter on his desk, she headed back to her tiny rented apartment. But when it rains, it pours—she just lost her job, and then her landlord kicked her out over some personal nonsense. No lease, no compensation, and he didn’t even give her time to hunt for a new place. So there she was, dragging her suitcase behind her, wandering the streets alone.

Funny thing is, I’d dragged Malcolm out for dinner that night, and we just stumbled right into her. And Malcolm? Couldn’t have cared less that his fiancée was still sitting in the car waiting for him. He swept Yara right up and was dead set on taking her straight to his place.

Curious as hell, I watched them from the passenger seat through the mirror. They looked stunning together, perfect for each other. Nothing like me—the so-called villain who could never hold a candle to her.

Sensing the timing couldn’t have been more perfect, I smoothed out my expression, getting ready to put on my big performance: wronged, indignant, furious. Showtime.

I pushed open the door and marched straight toward them, fake outrage burning in my steps.

“Malcolm, what the hell are you two doing?”

When she saw me, Yara yanks her hand out of his grip so fast, eyes dropping to the concrete, lips pressed tight. Malcolm’s face went stony, and he glares at me hard enough to cut glass.

Wait, did I know Yara’d be here? Was I somehow behind the eviction? I remembered—Pearl Apartments are owned by the Dunn family, and that’s exactly where Yara was living…

I stepped closer, ready to play my part, but Malcolm’s sharp, icy gaze threw me off for half a second.

[What’s his problem? I didn’t do anything wrong! Why’s he staring at me like I kicked his puppy?]

Malcolm shifted his focus back to Yara, softening his tone. “Yara, it’s late. Come with me. This is for your own good.”

My outer expression flared with fake anger, but inside I was screaming:

[Yes! Exactly that! Hurry up, take her back, cook her dinner, let this thing finally bloom between you two!]

But out loud I snapped, “Malcolm, what are you talking about? You’re taking this shameless woman to your house? I won’t let you get away with this!”

Malcolm frowned, clearly confused by how over the top I was being.

“No thank you, Malcolm,” Yara murmured, rubbing the faint red mark his grip left on her wrist, glancing at me warily. “I don’t want to be a bother. I… I already found a place to stay.”

[She’s lying. She hasn’t found jack. She’s gonna end up sleeping on the sidewalk tonight if you let her go!]

Malcolm just stared, quiet.

He glanced at my red-faced, visibly angry act, then spoke in that soft, steady way he does. “It’s no trouble. You can stay with me until you get back on your feet.”

“Malcolm!” I clutched my chest like my heart just broke, all wide-eyed disbelief. “How could you do this to me? Did you forget what you promised Mom?”

He’d promised Mom he’d take good care of me, after all. A wave of that stupid obligation washed over him, and his frown deepened. Yeah, it was wrong to bring another woman home when he was engaged to me—but he couldn’t just leave Yara out on the street, could he?

“I won’t let you down,” Malcolm said, all serious. “But Yara was my secretary. It’s my job to make sure she’s okay.”

The meaning was clear as day: he was going to fix her problem, no matter what.

I clenched my fists, my eyes sparkling under my fake scowl:

[Let me down! It’s totally fine! I don’t care! Just be good to Yara, that’s all that matters!]

[Aaah, my OTP is finally getting together! This is everything I’ve ever wanted!]

Malcolm just blinked, confused as hell. Wait—she’s shipping me with Yara?

Even with my internal screaming of joy, I kept my wronged act going full force. “Malcolm, Yara resigned! She’s not your employee anymore. Why do you have to be this nice to her?”

Malcolm’s eyes dropped to my fists, crumpling the fabric of my dress. He paused a second, then said firmly, “I never accepted her resignation. She’s still my secretary.”

“Malcolm!” I stomped my foot, fake frustration bleeding into my raised voice. “I’m your fiancée! You’re really going to let another woman stay at your place when I’m right here?”

[Yes! That’s perfect, keep going! Just take her back already!]

Malcolm went quiet again. This woman says one thing to my face and means the exact opposite. What is going on with her?

He lifted his head, that dark, intense gaze pinning me in place.

[What are you waiting for? Just go already! Do I have to spell every single step out for you?]

He turned away, jaw set in a hard line, and led a quiet Yara back toward the car.

“Malcolm,” I tugged on his arm, my face set in stubborn lines with just a hint of fake pleading. “I won’t let you take her.”

He looked down at me, at my bright eyes all wide and pleading, and for a split second he felt a twinge of reluctance. Maybe he should just put Yara up in a hotel instead, he thought.

He paused, opening his mouth to suggest just that, when he’d have heard my internal cheer:

[A real man doesn’t hold back! If you love her, take her home, show the whole world she’s the one for you!]

Malcolm went quiet.

He immediately tossed that hotel idea right out the window.

Keeping his stony expression, he shook my hand off his arm, and led a silent Yara straight to the car.

“Malcolm…”

My voice trailed off after him, all weak and wronged, and Malcolm paused.

[You two hurry up and go already! I don’t wanna miss my dinner rolls—that place gets packed, remember?]

Malcolm’s gaze swept over me, cold as ice, and I froze, confused for a second what I’d done wrong. He just climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled off with Yara before I could say another word.

I pouted, still confused about that last look he gave me.

Come on. I’m over here playing the bad guy just to get my favorite couple together. The least they could do is be grateful, right?