I Was Their Fake, I Ran With Millions

I was dating seven guys at the same time, all for money! None of them knew the others existed. All of them thought I was just a stand-in for their precious "the one that got away." Like I cared. As long as the payout was good enough, every single one of them was my darling hubby. Then, all seven guys showed up in the same place at the same time. ***** "Don't think you can do whatever you want just because you look a little like her. Don't touch me. You're filthy." Henry, the CEO who oozed 70% smoldering charm and 30% laid-back cockiness, had his hand wrapped around my throat. I blinked back big, dewy, lovesick tears. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again." Meanwhile, I was cussing out every single one of Henry's ancestors going back 18 generations in my head. That felt a whole lot better. I was a certified time management guru, for real. Seven boyfriends, all at once. And every last one of them was weirder than the last. Guess my acting skills were just too good, because every single one of them was convinced they were the only person I actually loved. They were always warning me that I was nothing but a replacement. As long as I behaved, they'd give me anything, except their feelings, of course. Oh, hell yeah. That was music to my ears. The only thing I was after was their cold, hard cash anyway. The guy currently choking me was Boyfriend Number One, Henry. He was a returnee CEO, young, rich, and with super weird kinks. Every time I came to see him, I had to wear a doctor's white coat, take his temperature, check his blood pressure, and press a cool compress onto his forehead. I couldn't skip a single one of those three steps. It was his stupid rule, for crying out loud. But every single time, he'd humiliate me just like he did right then, warning me to know my place and stay in line. 'Who else would pull that crap except a total nutjob?' 'Ugh. Money doesn't grow on trees, that's for damn sure.' My obedience only left him disappointed. "You're nothing like her. Take good care of that face... it's the only reason you get to be anywhere near me." Ding! A notification popped up: 300,000 dollars had been deposited into my account. I covered my eyes, sobbing so hard it looked like I was grinning. "I like you so much, Henry. I'm not with you for your money. Don't treat me like this, please." Henry scoffed. "You've been with me three months. If you keep being this delusional, I'll find someone to replace you. Here's another 700,000. Now get out of my sight." 'You got it!' 'Right this second!' 'Immediately!' As long as the pay was good enough, I'd put on a frisky cat costume before I'd complain, let alone a little white doctor angel getup. ***** Boyfriend Number Two was Tyler Gibson, a famous professional racer. Right after I left Henry's place, I hightailed it to the racetrack to meet him. Out of all seven boyfriends, he was the one I found the most annoying. That day, after Tyler took me zooming around the track a few times, he blew a cloud of cigarette smoke right in my face, just like he always did. He pulled this stunt every single time, so I saw it coming a mile away and immediately held my breath. He turned his face to the side, his features sharp with 30% brooding gloom. "Don't try to get my attention with stupid costumes. The only woman I love is her." 'Ah, crap! I'd forgotten to change out of the white coat after leaving Henry's.' I pinched my thigh hard enough to make tears well up, my eyes burning red. "I-I thought you'd like it when I dressed like this." Tyler's cheeks flushed slightly, but his voice was still sharp with disgust. "No matter how well you copy her, you'll never be her. You're not even fit to tie her shoes!" I itched to punch that stupid sneer right off his face, but instead I let fat, wobbly, hurt-looking tears roll down my cheeks. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I promise. I'll be good, I'll stay in my lane. Just don't kick me out, please." I puckered my lips like I was going to kiss him. He flinched back like I was contagious. "Don't touch me! You're disgusting!" Then he threw me right out of his car. A few minutes later, Ding! My account got another notification. 500,000 dollars had hit my balance, followed by a text from Tyler. Tyler: Don't even think about catching feelings. Remember your place. Tyler: That 500k is for you to buy a few cellos and practice properly. I want to hear you play next time. Since I started dating these seven guys, I'd picked up more new skills than I had in the entire first twenty years of my life. All of them say I'm nothing but a stand-in. Next to their perfect, untouchable muse, I'm just a pile of worthless mud. All seven of these guys are total airheads with deep pockets. They'd rather throw cash at a problem than catch feelings any day of the week. Damn. I couldn't be more obsessed with that mindset! Messing around with romance? That's the fastest way to put a dent in your bank account! I'm a certified time management pro, after all. Before the sun dips below the horizon, I've got to hightail it to my third boyfriend. ***** Boyfriend number three is James Parker, the illegitimate son of a massive conglomerate. His one and only hobby is embedding diamonds and solid gold pieces into his jackets. He'd called me over today to treat me to a breakup dinner. I trailed right behind him, prying at the diamonds and gold pieces embedded in his coat. I was low-key miffed, my nails were too short, and I was prying them off way too slow. James was the most generous one out of all seven boyfriends. Just the thought of losing such a huge cash cow made me heave a dramatic, wistful sigh, "James, are you really breaking up with me? I love you so much." James snapped back, sharp and gruff. "I warned you not to fall for me, but you just had to go and do it anyway. Did you seriously think you could ever have me? Here's two million, and I'll take you to someplace for dinner first." I burst into tears. It was all an act, obviously. Well, if you're gonna say that, I'm suddenly not sad at all.