Chapter Four – The Launch of Lies
The moment Zara got home from dinner with Daniel, she collapsed onto her bed, still in her jumpsuit. She buried her face in the pillow, her heart pounding with guilt.
Daniel's words replayed in her mind: "You don't have to impress me. Even if you had none of those things, I'd still be here."
If only he knew. If only she could believe him. But Zara had built her whole world on impressions—on being the girl everyone envied. Could she really drop the mask now?
Her phone buzzed again, dragging her back into reality.
Tasha: Girl, don't forget the launch party. I'm outside. We can't be late.
Zara groaned. She had barely taken her shoes off, but there was no time to rest. Tonight wasn't just another party. It was the event—the kind of night that decided who stayed relevant and who faded into obscurity.
She pulled on the emerald-green gown Tasha had brought earlier. It hugged her curves perfectly, the sequins catching the light every time she moved. For a final touch, she borrowed Tasha's designer clutch, praying no one asked too many questions about it.
When she stepped into the car, Tasha's jaw dropped. "Babe, you look like money itself. Kendra is going to choke."
Zara forced a smile. "Let's just get through tonight."
The launch venue was a luxury hotel ballroom, buzzing with celebrities, influencers, and brand executives. Cameras flashed, laughter rang out, and every corner smelled of wealth. Zara took a deep breath, shoulders squared, and stepped into the spotlight.
Within seconds, eyes were on her. Phones lifted, photos snapped. Zara walked like she owned the world, even though her heart thudded with fear that someone might notice the cracks in her illusion.
And then—Kendra appeared.
She was draped in a blood-red gown that screamed power, her diamond necklace glistening under the chandeliers. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she spotted Zara.
"Well, well, look who decided to show up," Kendra said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Zara Martins—the Instagram queen herself. Tell me, darling, is that dress another 'collaboration'?"
Zara's stomach tightened, but she didn't flinch. "At least people want to collaborate with me," she replied smoothly, her smile sharp. "Not everyone gets that privilege."
Tasha snorted beside her, but Kendra's smirk didn't fade. Instead, she leaned closer, her voice low enough for only Zara to hear.
"One day, all your little secrets will spill. And when they do, I'll be front row, watching your empire burn."
Zara's chest tightened, but she held her pose, chin lifted. "Careful, Kendra. Don't mistake envy for intelligence. It doesn't suit you."
With that, she swept past, her gown glittering like liquid emeralds. Cameras followed her, fans whispered her name, and for a moment, Zara felt invincible.
But deep inside, fear gnawed at her.
Kendra knew something. She always had a way of sniffing out weakness, and if she discovered the truth about Zara's borrowed life, it wouldn't just be gossip—it would be destruction.
Later that night, as Zara posed for photos with celebrities and brand reps, her phone buzzed with a new message. She slipped it open discreetly.
Unknown Number: I know your secret. Pay up, or I'll expose you.
Her blood ran cold. The room spun. She quickly locked her phone, plastered a smile back on her face, and raised her glass for another photo.
No one could know she was cracking. Not tonight. Not ever.
But deep down, Zara realized her expensive fake life was no longer just a performance—it had become a dangerous game.