The Billionaire’s Fake Heiress

CHAPTER ONE I stood in front of the cracked mirror in my tiny apartment and practiced a smile that did not belong to me. It was softer than the one I used at the café. “Good evening, I’m Lara Beaumont,” I said smoothly. My reflection stared back at me. Beaumont. The surname still felt expensive in my mouth. I adjusted the diamond earrings I rented for the night not real diamonds, but close enough to fool anyone who didn’t lean in too hard. The black gown I wore was second hand, altered three times, and stitched carefully by my neighbor downstairs. It hugged my body like it was born for wealth. On the bed behind me sat an envelope. Inside it was the last of my savings. Every overtime shift.Every skipped meal. All spent for one night. I inhaled slowly. Since I was little, I had lived by one rule: A poor girl has no business falling in love. Love was for girls with safety nets.Girls whose fathers owned companies. Girls born into generational wealth. I didn’t want love. I wanted leverage. And tonight, the Kingsley Annual Charity Gala was filled with it. I turned off the light, picked up my clutch, and stepped out of the apartment like I was walking into a different life. * The Kingsley Grand Hotel glittered like it had swallowed the stars. Luxury cars lined the entrance. Men in tailored suits stepped out beside women who wore confidence like perfume. Cameras flashed and Laughter echoed. I stepped out of the suv carefully, I had rented one with driver with money I saved from working part time jobs. If you want to act rich then you have to look rich. I made sure the slit of my dress showed just enough leg to look deliberate. My heels hit the pavement as I walked towards the entrance. “Miss?” A man at the entrance scanned my invitation. My fake invitation. For one terrifying second, I imagined alarms blaring. Then he smiled politely. “Welcome, Miss Beaumont.” Inside, the ballroom was gold and crystal and old money. A chandelier the size of my entire apartment hung from the ceiling. Champagne floated past me on silver trays. A string quartet played something soft and expensive. I kept my shoulders straight. I belonged here. I had memorized investment trends for weeks. Learned wine names. Studied European boarding schools. Practiced speaking slowly, like I had never rushed for a bus in my life. My pulse steadied and I stepped fully into the room. “Excuse me.” The voice was elegant. I turned and Standing before me was a woman in her late fifties, draped in silver silk, posture straight as a blade. Her hair was sleek, her eyes sharp and assessing. Everyone in the city knew that face. Victoria Kingsley. Chairwoman of Kingsley Holdings. Mother of the most powerful heir in the country. My heart skipped once but my smile didn’t waver. “Yes?” Victoria’s gaze swept over me like a scanner. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. I extended my hand gracefully. “Lara Beaumont. I recently relocated from Geneva.” The lie came easily now. Victoria’s eyes flickered with interest. “Beaumont?” she repeated slowly. “Yes. My family invests in tech acquisitions overseas.” Not too detailed. Never too detailed. That was the trick. Victoria studied me a second longer than was comfortable. “And what brings you to our humble gala?” I let out a small, practiced laugh. “Curiosity. I’ve heard Kingsley Holdings is expanding into European markets.” Victoria’s lips curved faintly. “You’re well informed.” “I make it a habit to be.” There was a pause. Then Victoria did something unexpected. “Come,” she said. I blinked. “Excuse me?” “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” My pulse quickened. This was moving faster than I planned. Victoria guided me through the crowd like I was already approved. Conversations quieted subtly as we passed. And then I saw him. Adrian Kingsley. He stood near the stage, speaking to a group of investors. He was tall. His shoulders were broad beneath perfectly tailored dark suits, the fabric always falling in a way that suggested both wealth and discipline. His face carried sharp, refined symmetry. A strong jawline that seemed carved rather than shaped, high cheekbones, and dark eyes that looked patient but observant, like he was constantly studying people without appearing to do so. His hair was naturally dark, styled just enough to look effortless rather than arranged. His Expression was unreadable. His posture alone screamed control. He wasn’t smiling. Victoria stopped beside him. “Adrian,” she said smoothly. “This is Miss Lara Beaumont. She has interesting ties to Europe.” His gaze shifted to me. And for a brief second just a second, I felt exposed. He took my hand. His grip was firm. “Beaumont,” he repeated quietly. The way he said it made it sound like a question. “Kingsley,” I replied just as softly. His eyes didn’t leave mine. “You’re new in the city,” he said. “Yes.” “And already at our gala.” “I admire ambition,” I answered. A faint smirk touched his lips. “Do you?” I held his gaze. “I respect it.” Something unreadable passed between us. Victoria watched carefully. “Adrian oversees our expansion projects,” she added. “Perhaps you two have common interests.” Adrian’s thumb brushed lightly against my knuckles before he let go. “If Miss Beaumont is as informed as she claims,” he said coolly, “we might.” And then he walked away. “I…would grab a drink” I said to Victoria and she nodded and I called feel her gaze on me as I walked away. Minutes later, I excused myself to the restroom, heart pounding. This was bigger than I expected. I splashed cool water on my wrists. Calm down. You’re doing fine. Voices drifted from one of the restroom stalls. “…I can’t get rid of it.” I froze. “That merger will collapse if this gets out.” This got my interest. The stall door clicked open. Through the mirror’s reflection, I saw a young woman in her early twenties, tear-streaked makeup, designer gown. I recognized her immediately. Elena Kingsley. The daughter of the Kingsley family. “And if Father finds out?” Elena whispered urgently to the woman beside her. “If the board finds out I’m pregnant with their rival’s child, it won’t end well” “What is your mom saying?” The lady asked. She seemed to be in the same age gap with Elena. Probably her friend. “She said I should calm down. She would think of something” Rival’s child. My heartbeat slowed. Information was currency. And I had just found gold. They left, not noticing me. When I returned to the ballroom, Adrian was watching me. Not casually but Intently. Victoria approached again. “Miss Beaumont,” she said smoothly. “I’d like to continue our discussion privately. Perhaps tomorrow?” I smiled softly. “I would be honored.” She reached into her handbag and handed me a business card. “Royal Café Restaurant. Let us meet there tomorrow” I collected the card, the corners of my lips lifting slightly. This was working.