Selene looked at her reflection in the mirror. The same eyes, the same nose, the same lips she saw every morning.
She was very familiar with her own reflection. No matter how many times she looked into the mirror, it was always her face looking back.
Today, that wasn't the case.
When she looked into the mirror, the face staring back at her belonged to someone else. It was no longer Selene, the daughter of the Winterwood family. It was the face of some lunatic man's deceased girlfriend.
She looked again, frowning at the drastic change the makeup artist was able to pull off. She thought she knew her face well enough to recognize it no matter how much it was altered.
Turns out, that wasn't the case.
"Is it really me?" Selene asked, still staring at the mirror.
"Yes, miss. It is you," the young woman answered patiently.
"It's like a different person." The reflection frowned back at her. Selene remembered asking for very light makeup. This definitely didn't look "light."
"Miss, I am just following orders." She smiled nervously. With that, the makeup artist closed her makeup box.
The make up artist slung her bag over her shoulder and bowed. As if chased by something scary, she rushed to the exit. Before she could reach the handle, however, the door opened from the outside. The poor makeup artist jumped, startled. Her nervousness stood in sharp contrast to Selene's calm.
The man at the door was very handsome. His clothes were neat and tidy, his hair slick, his smile dazzling.
But Selene wasn't fooled.
She already knew what that man was capable of.
"Miss Selene, are you ready?" he asked politely.
Selene met his eyes through the mirror. There, his smile looked genuine. His tone was nothing but polite.
But to her ears, there was eagerness beneath it. A hint of rush.
She sighed, then took her bag. "I'm ready."
They walked through a long hallway. Neither of them spoke. The man led her through the heavily decorated corridor. Paintings were hung at intervals, depicting natural beauty—from spring flowers to auroras. Selene was certain none of them were counterfeit. She was a painter herself.
Was.
She didn't know how long it had been since she last held a brush.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
If only her family hadn't gone bankrupt, maybe she would still be painting comfortably in her own studio right now.
If her family hadn't gone bankrupt, she wouldn't even be here today.
She sighed again.
The man perked up slightly. That was the fifth sigh in this short walk alone.
"Are you starting to regret your decision?" His voice broke the silence.
Selene swallowed. "No, sir. I'm fine."
"Good. Because once you sign the documents, you can't back out." He paused for a moment, then glanced at her with a cold smile. "We already paid a quarter of your family's debt. You know how much that is, don't you?"
Selene halted. Her hands clenched tightly. "Don't worry. I'm not regretting anything. You don't need to threaten me."
"Good. I wouldn't want to threaten such a beauty like you."
Selene clenched her teeth.
A lie.
He had already threatened her once.
Otherwise, how could they be standing here now?
They approached a tall door at the end of the hall. The man opened it and gestured for her to enter. Selene stepped inside.
Another man was waiting, dressed just as neatly. He was just as handsome, but unlike the one behind her, his smile looked more genuine.
"Miss Winterwood. Welcome. We're so glad to have you here today," the man greeted.
"Mr. Harrison." Selene nodded.
"Don't be too formal. Just call me Fred."
They sat down. The man behind her—Kevin Ford—placed a stack of documents on the table between them.
"Let's talk about the deal now, shall we?" Fred began.
Selene felt her stomach churn.
This was it.
"Miss Selene, let me explain it in simple terms. After you sign this document, you will pretend to be Matthias Viterville's deceased girlfriend and support him during his treatment until his mental state improves. In exchange, we will clear every single debt your family has and help your father recover his business. How does that sound?"
The man began laying out the documents. Her father's business reports, her own conditions—everything that needed to be discussed.
Fred continued explaining his plans, but Selene only half-listened. Her mind had already drifted.
She looked into Fred's eyes, remembering their first meeting three days ago.
It was at her sister's friend's party.
The look in his eyes back then was nothing close to calm. His hands had trembled as he looked at her—like he had just seen a ghost walking toward him.
It must have felt like that for him.
After all, Selene's face was said to be identical to his best friend's deceased girlfriend.
The same best friend who had turned into a lunatic, unable to swallow the bitter pill called reality.
Selene remembered the words her sister used to describe Fred. None of them were kind. Even though his business skills were top-notch, and he had become the new CEO replacing the mentally ill Matthias Viterville, he was also known for his ruthless methods.
No one knew what would happen if Selene said no to someone like him.
Besides, they had already thrown the bait.
And she swam straight into their net.
"There's one thing," Selene said calmly.
"I knew it," Kevin muttered, almost inaudible. His gaze carried clear dissatisfaction, as if he had already judged her.
He was so sure she would back out.
This pause must have felt like proof.
Ignoring him, Selene asked, "What will happen after Matthias gets better? Won't he realize we're deceiving him? What if he sues me?"
"That won't happen. I can assure you of that," Fred answered firmly.
Selene still wasn't convinced.
"This is the purpose of this meeting, isn't it?" Kevin leaned back on the sofa. "To discuss what you agree and disagree with. Go on—tell us what made you drag this out for three days."
Fred handed her a document. Lines upon lines of agreement filled the page. "It's written there. Our law firm will assist you if any problems arise in the future."
Selene read through the lines carefully. It was exactly as he said.
Clear. Clean.
"Anything else?" Kevin asked, almost provocatively.
"Yes. I have more questions. Is it really okay for me to go in unprepared? Shouldn't you at least tell me about the deceased girlfriend so I can act properly?" This was the question she truly wanted answered.
The two men exchanged a glance.
"Matthias's condition has worsened recently. What we need now is speed, not perfection. I'm sure your face will make up for that," Kevin said with a chuckle.
Selene unconsciously touched her face.
"Rest assured, we've prepared the perfect cover," Fred added calmly, casting Kevin a warning glance. "Miss Selene, you have amnesia. That's why you can go as you are."
The story was simple.
Matthias loved his girlfriend deeply. Her death shattered him. He refused to work, eat, or sleep, searching for her in denial. His friends couldn't bear it, so they told him she had gone abroad for treatment after a severe accident.
For months, they maintained the lie. But he was beginning to suspect the truth.
So they decided to give him his girlfriend back. That was where Selene came in.
She was perfect for the role.
And she needed money. Fast.
Coincidentally, Selene herself had also been abroad for months recovering from an accident.
The excuse was perfect.
Her amnesia would explain everything—why she didn't remember him, why her personality had changed.
It even eliminated the need for training.
After all, someone with amnesia would naturally act differently.
With such a plan, Selene almost wanted to applaud. It was absurd—yet believable in its simplicity.
"Don't worry. He's insane more often than not," Kevin added smugly. "Even if he doesn't believe us, what's he going to do? Reject his own girlfriend?"
After that, the questions flowed more easily. Fred answered patiently while Kevin appeared uninterested, occasionally glancing at his phone.
By the time the sun set, they had reached an agreement.
With her signature and stamp, it was finalized.
There was no turning back now.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out outside the door. Someone was shouting outside.
Fred remained calm, as if this was routine. Kevin stood up, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Well, miss," he said, "don't you want to greet your 'boyfriend'? Looks like someone is very eager to meet you."