THE BILLIONAIRE'S BARGAIN

Episode 3 : LIES AND MEMORIES

The heavy door clicked shut behind Ethan, leaving Stella standing alone in the center of the massive, beautiful room. The silence that followed was louder than any noise she had ever heard. She stood perfectly still for a long time, her hand still holding the old photograph she had picked up from the folder on the desk. Her heart was beating a strange, frantic rhythm against her ribs, and her mind was spinning with questions she dared not ask out loud.

She looked down at the picture again. There was no mistake, no doubt, no coincidence. The young girl in the photo, Elena, was her. Or rather, she looked exactly like her. Same wide, dark eyes that always seemed to hold a little bit of sadness, same soft, curly dark hair, same small, crooked smile that appeared only when she was truly happy. And beside her, holding her hand tightly, was a young boy with bright eyes and a wide, joyful grin—Ethan Sterling. The cold, ruthless billionaire who had just walked out of her room looked nothing like that happy, carefree boy. But it was him. She knew it in her bones.

"Why does it feel like... I have been here before?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice trembling slightly.

Faint flashes of images danced at the edge of her mind, just out of reach, like a dream you try to remember after waking up. She saw a big garden with colorful flowers. She saw a tall fountain where water sparkled in the sun. She heard laughter—her own laughter, and a boy’s voice calling her name. But every time she tried to grab onto the memory, to see it clearly, it dissolved into fog, leaving her with nothing but a dull ache behind her eyes and a strange, deep longing in her heart.

She shook her head firmly, placing the photo back on the desk and turning away from it. “Stop it, Stella. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you. You are tired. You are stressed. You are here to do a job, save your father, and leave. That is all. Nothing more. You are not Elena. You are just pretending to be her. Do not get confused.”

She walked over to the heavy folder Ethan had left behind and sat down on the edge of the large, soft bed. She opened it carefully. Inside were pages and pages of notes, descriptions, memories, likes, dislikes, and history. Everything she needed to know to become Elena. She began to read, her eyes moving quickly over the words, memorizing every single detail as if her life depended on it—because in truth, it did.

She learned that Elena loved vanilla ice cream but hated chocolate. She loved walking in the rain but hated getting her shoes wet. She loved old books and drawing pictures. She was gentle, kind, soft-spoken, and deeply loved by everyone in the family, especially Grandmother Clara. She learned about their childhood games, the places they used to go, the secrets they shared. Page after page, she absorbed it all, turning herself into a sponge, soaking up every piece of information so that when she met the old woman in two days, she would be perfect.

Hours passed. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows across the beautiful room. A soft knock on the door finally pulled her out of her intense focus.

"Come in," she called out, closing the folder quickly.

The door opened slowly, and a young woman around her age stepped inside. She was dressed in a neat, black and white maid’s uniform, her hair pulled back tightly, her expression polite but guarded. She carried a tray with food, setting it down carefully on the small table near the window.

"Good afternoon, Miss Moore," she said softly, keeping her eyes lowered respectfully. "My name is Lily. I am assigned to assist you during your stay here. Mr. Sterling ordered that you eat and rest well. You have a busy schedule ahead preparing to meet Madam Clara."

"Thank you, Lily," Stella replied gently, offering her a warm smile. She was used to being the one serving others, so having someone serve her felt strange and uncomfortable. "Please, you don't have to be so formal. And... you can look at me, you know. I’m just like you."

Lily looked up, surprised, her eyes wide. She glanced quickly toward the closed door before stepping a little closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You are... different from who we expected, Miss. Mr. Sterling usually brings women who are loud, demanding, and arrogant. But you... you seem kind. Quiet."

Stella gave a sad, small laugh, walking over to the table to look at the food—delicious meals she could never afford in her normal life. "I am not like them, Lily. I am nothing like them. I am just... playing a part. Just like everyone else here."

Lily nodded slowly, understanding shining in her eyes, though she didn't know the full truth. "Well... whatever you are doing here, Miss... I hope it goes well. Madam Clara is very kind, but she misses Elena terribly. She has been waiting for her return for ten years. If you can make her smile... you will be doing a great thing for this family. They have been so sad for so long."

She turned to leave, but paused at the door, looking back one more time. "And... Miss? Be careful with Mr. Sterling. He is not a bad man, truly... but he has built walls so high around his heart that nobody can reach him. Not even himself. Do not let his coldness break you. You seem too good to be hurt."

Before Stella could reply, Lily slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Stella sat down to eat, but the food tasted like nothing. Her mind was stuck on Lily’s words. “He is not a bad man... but he has built walls so high...” She had seen those walls. She had felt the coldness radiating off him. But she had also seen something else, deep in his eyes when he spoke about Elena and his grandmother. She had seen pain. She had seen loneliness. She had seen a boy who had lost everything he loved and had never recovered from it.

For the next two days, Stella immersed herself completely in her role. She read every page in the folder three times until she knew it by heart. She studied every photograph until she could recognize every detail of Elena’s face, her expressions, her way of standing and smiling. She practiced speaking softly, walking gracefully, moving with the elegance that Elena was known for. She tried on the beautiful clothes provided for her, learning how to move in dresses that cost more than her father’s medical bills.

And all the while, strange little things kept happening.

She would walk past a window looking out at the gardens, and suddenly she would know exactly what tree stood where, or where a hidden path led, even though she had never been there in her life. She would touch an object—a vase, a book, a small statue—and a shiver would run down her spine, accompanied by a feeling of “I have held this before.” Once, she hummed a song while brushing her hair, only to realize she didn't know where she had learned it. It was an old, soft melody, full of sadness and love, a song she was sure she had never heard on the radio or anywhere else.

But every time these things happened, every time a memory tried to surface, a sharp pain would shoot through her head, making her dizzy and confused, and the memory would vanish, leaving her breathless and scared.

“What is happening to me?” she wondered, clutching her head. “Why does this place feel like home? Why does everything feel familiar?”

On the evening of the second day, there was another knock on her door. This time, she knew exactly who it was before she even spoke. The air in the room changed, growing colder, heavier, charged with that unique energy that belonged only to one person.

"Come in," she said, standing up straight, smoothing down the soft, cream-colored dress she was wearing—a dress exactly like the one Elena wore in the photos.

Ethan walked in. He was dressed formally in a dark suit, looking every bit the powerful billionaire, his face set in that hard, unreadable mask she was getting used to. He stopped just inside the doorway, his dark eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, studying every detail, every movement, every expression. He looked at her for a long time, saying nothing, and Stella felt her heart hammering against her chest under his intense scrutiny.

"Turn around," he ordered simply, his voice cool and flat.

Stella obeyed, turning slowly in a circle.

"Speak," he commanded next. "Say something Elena would say. Tell me about the garden. Tell me about the fountain where we used to sit."

Stella took a deep breath, calming her nerves, letting the information she had memorized flow naturally. "The fountain... it is the most beautiful place in the whole estate. The water is always clear and sparkling. We used to sit on the edge of it, legs swinging over the side, and you promised me that one day, you would build me a whole castle made of gold and diamonds right next to it. You said nobody would ever hurt me or take me away as long as you were there."

She spoke the words perfectly, exactly as written in the notes, her voice soft, sweet, and full of the right kind of emotion.

For a split second, she saw something c***k in Ethan’s expression. His eyes widened slightly. His lips parted as if he was about to speak. A flash of pure, raw emotion—longing, pain, love—crossed his face, gone so fast she thought she had imagined it. He quickly schooled his features back into that cold, hard mask, stepping closer to her until he was standing only inches away.

"Good," he said, his voice lower now, rougher. "Very good. You sound like her. You move like her. You look exactly like her. If I didn't know the truth... I might actually believe you are her."

He reached out slowly, his hand lifting toward her face, his fingers hovering just millimeters from her cheek. Stella froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes locked onto his. She saw his eyes trace every line of her face, searching, studying, remembering. She saw the war raging inside him—the battle between the cold businessman and the boy who had lost his best friend.

But just as his fingers were about to touch her skin, he pulled his hand back sharply, as if touching her would burn him. He stepped away, putting distance between them, his expression turning cold and cruel again.

"Do not get comfortable, Stella," he warned, his voice sharp and biting. "You are a mirror. You reflect what I want to see. But you are not her. You are a poor girl from the streets who signed a paper. Remember that. Tomorrow, when you meet my grandmother... you will be perfect. You will smile, you will hug her, you will call her 'Grandma', you will tell her how much you missed her, and you will make her believe you never left. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Stella replied, lifting her chin to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see how much his words hurt her. "I know exactly what I am, Mr. Sterling. I know exactly what this is. I will play my part perfectly. I will get the job done. And in one year, I will walk away and never look back. You have nothing to worry about."

Ethan stared at her for another long moment, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Good. Be ready by 10:00 AM. Do not be late. And remember the rules: no personal questions, no touching me unless I allow it, no stepping out of character for even one second. One mistake... and everything ends."

He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Stella alone again. But this time, the silence felt different. It felt heavy with things unsaid, with secrets buried deep, with a connection neither of them could break no matter how hard they tried.

Stella walked over to the window, looking out over the vast gardens of the estate. The sun was setting, casting beautiful golden light over the trees and flowers, turning the fountain into a shining circle of gold. She watched as Ethan walked across the lawn below, his hands clasped behind his back, walking with that stiff, lonely stride. He looked like a king in his kingdom... but he looked like the loneliest king in the world.

“Why are you so sad, Ethan?” she thought to herself softly. “Why do you look at me like you want me and hate me at the same time? Why does your heart feel so close to mine, even when you try so hard to push me away?”

She didn't know it then, but tomorrow would change everything. Tomorrow, she would meet the woman who held the key to the family fortune. Tomorrow, she would step fully into the shoes of Elena. And tomorrow, the secrets of the past would begin to unravel, one by one, pulling her deeper and deeper into a world she was slowly realizing she already belonged to.

She turned away from the window and walked back to the desk, picking up the contract she had signed days ago. She read the words again: “For a period of twelve months, Stella Moore agrees to perform the role required by Ethan Sterling in exchange for financial compensation...”

It looked like a simple agreement. It looked like a clear transaction. But as she traced the ink of her signature with her finger, Stella realized something terrifying and wonderful at the same time.

This contract wasn't just binding her to Ethan Sterling for one year. It wasn't just saving her father’s life. It was binding her to a past she couldn't remember, to a love that had waited ten long years, and to a destiny that neither of them could ever escape.

She folded the paper carefully and put it away. She walked toward the wardrobe to choose her outfit for tomorrow, her heart beating fast with a mix of fear and excitement. She was ready. She would be perfect. She would be Elena.

But deep down, in the quietest part of her soul, Stella knew... she wasn't pretending anymore. She was coming home.