“You’re really not Nichole?”
The question slipped out before Jay could stop it. It came out rough, almost broken, like something dragged up from deep inside him.
Honey blinked at him, confused. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her fingers slowly, buying herself a second. “My name is Honey Mariah Owens,” she said, her tone flat but edged with curiosity. “What’s up with you? You keep saying Nichole, Nichole, Nichole. Who is she?”
Jay stared at her like he was looking at a ghost.
“How can two people look exactly the same?” His voice trembled, barely steady.
For a split second, Honey caught it. That flicker in his eyes. Not arrogance. Not control. Something softer. Something cracked.
He dragged a hand down his face. “Jesus… how is this even possible?”
Honey shifted in her seat, brows knitting together. “Okay, can you explain what the hell is going on?”
Jay let out a slow breath, like the words themselves were heavy. “It’s… a long story.”
She leaned back slightly, folding her arms, but her eyes stayed on him. “Good. I’ve got time.”
He cleared his throat, straightened a little, though the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. “Apparently, I’ve been looking for my betrothed. Nichole Solange Sinclair. Senator Sinclair’s daughter.”
Honey gave a slow nod, her lips parting slightly. “O…kay.”
“Two weeks ago,” Jay continued, his gaze drifting somewhere far away, “she ran out of a party after we had a huge fight.” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Our parents arranged the whole thing. Marriage. Political alliance. You know how that goes.”
Honey tilted her head. “Yeah. I get it.”
“But I didn’t want it.” His voice sharpened, then dipped again. “I wasn’t in love with Nichole. We grew up together, sure. Childhood friends. But that’s it. So I pushed. Hard. I did everything I could to piss her off. To make her hate the idea of marrying me.”
He paused, rubbing his palms together like he couldn’t get rid of something sticky.
“I thought I finally did it that night. After the argument. I figured she stormed off, went home, cooled down.” His voice dropped. “But she never made it home.”
Silence settled between them.
“Now everyone’s looking at me like I’m the reason she disappeared,” he said quietly. “My parents. Her parents. Friends. All of them. They just want her back. Safe.”
Honey rested her chin lightly on her hand, watching him. Really watching him now.
“So when I saw you at the club…” Jay continued, lifting his eyes to hers again, “you were drinking, and I thought…” He let out a short, humorless breath. “I thought you were her. Because you look exactly like her.”
“Wow.” Honey’s mouth fell open. “That’s… insane.”
Jay reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and swiped through it with slightly shaky fingers. He handed it over.
Honey took it.
And froze.
Her eyes widened so fast it almost hurt. “What the…”
On the screen was a woman who looked like her. Not similar. Not close. The same face. Just… different styling. Sleeker blonde hair. More polished. More… refined.
Like a version of herself that had been dipped in money and power.
Her fingers trembled. The phone almost slipped from her grip.
“I… I don’t know her,” she stammered, her voice unsteady. “I’ve never seen her before. Why do we look like this? Like… like twins?”
Jay exhaled slowly. “That’s the same question that’s been messing with my head since I figured it out.”
Honey pushed her chair back and stood up, needing space, needing air. “Well… now that you know I’m not your fiancée…” she said, brushing her hands against her jeans, “can I go home?”
Jay shot up from his seat. “No. No, wait.”
Honey frowned. “What do you mean no?”
He dragged his fingers through his hair, messing it up completely. The Rolex on his wrist caught the light, flashing like it didn’t belong in this moment. “I told everyone I found Nichole,” he said, his voice tight. “What am I supposed to say now?”
He looked like he was unraveling right in front of her.
“My dad’s career is on the line,” he added, quieter this time. “And it’s all because of me.”
Something twisted in Honey’s chest. She didn’t like it. Didn’t trust it. Sympathy wasn’t something she handed out easily.
Still, it was there.
And it shocked her, seeing this man, this confident, untouchable guy, looking… wrecked.
She cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Look, I’m sorry you’re dealing with all that. I really am. But it’s not my problem. I need to go.”
She turned.
“Wait.”
His voice stopped her cold.
“I have a proposal.”
Honey turned back slowly, one brow lifting. “A proposal?” she scoffed, planting her hands on her hips. “You serious right now?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him, curiosity creeping in despite herself.
“I want you to come with me,” Jay said, each word deliberate. “As Nichole.”
Silence.
Then—
“What?” Honey blinked hard. “You want me to what? Pretend to be your fiancee?”
“Yeah,” he said, his confidence cracking just a little. “Something like that.”
“I will never do that.” Her voice snapped like a whip. “That’s insane. It’s ridiculous. It’s—”
“I’ll pay you.”
The words cut straight through her rant.
Honey went still.
“You’ll… pay me?” she repeated slowly.
“Any amount you want.” His tone was steady now. Serious. No games.
She pressed a finger against her lips, thinking.
If I say no, nothing changes.
If I say yes…
Her mind raced. Hospital bills. Her father's surgery. Her brother's future. The tiny, fragile dream of starting her own fashion line.
Jay was rich. Not just rich. Stupid rich.
Her gaze drifted back to him.
He was watching her closely, tension written all over his face.
“What do you say?” he asked, impatience slipping into his voice.
It was tempting … Too tempting.
This is wrong, Honey thought. But somehow it was the most convenient opportunity for her to change her life. And a part of her, a very curious part of her wanted to know what happened to Nichole.
Honey let the silence stretch, just a little longer. She wanted to see how far he’d go.
Turns out, he was already at the edge.
She inhaled slowly.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
Jay exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath for hours. “Thank you,” he said, and this time it sounded real. “Give me your account. I’ll send an upfront payment right now.”
Honey recited her details.
Seconds later, her phone buzzed.
She checked it.
And her jaw dropped.
“Damn…” she whispered under her breath. Then louder, “Thank you.”
Jay gave a tired smile. “Don’t mention it. But I need one thing from you.”
She looked up. “What?”
“You don’t tell anyone about this. Ever.” His voice hardened, all traces of vulnerability gone.
Honey made a zipping motion across her lips. “Locked tight.”
“Good.” He nodded once. “From now on, you do exactly what I say. Stick to my rules, and you’ll be fine.”
Honey leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, bringing herself eye level with him. A teasing glint slipped into her eyes. “And if I don’t?”
Jay was seriously taken aback by Honey's boldness. No one has ever talked back at him in that manner... not his friends, not his business partners, not even Nichole. But Jay masked his surprise with a bold face.
He leaned in too.
His expression shifted. Darker. Colder.
His voice dropped to something dangerous. “Then you’ll regret the day you ever crossed paths with Jayson Kingsley.”