My Billionaire Fiancé Is A Lie

Oh, this is going to be fun!

Leila's POV

The manor always looked like something carved out of another world, its towering stone walls and immaculate lawns intimidating enough to make me feel like I had no business walking through its gates. And yet, there I was again, clutching my purse like it could shield me from the stares I knew would follow me once I stepped inside.

Sure enough, the moment I entered the grand foyer, the air shifted. Whispers trailed behind me, sharp enough to pierce through skin. A cluster of maids glanced my way, their eyes darting quickly aside when I caught them. But the smirks lingered.

And then, as if the devil herself conjured her, I spotted Jodie. Bent over with a broom in hand, pretending to sweep the already spotless marble floor. Her voice carried loud enough for the whole staff to hear.

"Must be nice," she said, not looking at me, her tone laced with venom. "Some of us have to work hard to pay rent, while others... well, they just spread their legs for the boss."

My stomach tightened, my nails digging into my palm. A ripple of snickers moved across the hallway. I wanted to shout, to tell her she was lying, that she was twisting everything. But the butler, Mr. Lewis with his perpetually pinched face, stood nearby, watching me like I was proving every ugly rumor true simply by breathing in his presence.

I forced my chin higher, my heels clicking against the floor with every determined step. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Let them whisper. Let them sneer. They weren't the reason I was here.

Luca was.

And God help me, the thought alone made my pulse trip.

The butler announced my arrival with unnecessary stiffness when he led me to Luca's study. I expected to find him alone behind his massive mahogany desk, eyes buried in a laptop or phone, every inch the controlled, commanding man I'd come to know.

What I didn't expect was... another him.

Well, almost another him.

The man who turned as I walked in was Luca's mirror in the way of sharp cheekbones, the aristocratic nose, and those storm-gray eyes. But where Luca's presence was all restraint and steel, this man's was warmth and ease, his grin stretching wide as though life had never once demanded he frown.

"You must be Leila," he said, striding forward with open arms like we'd been friends forever. "Finally. I've been waiting to meet the woman who apparently tamed the untamable Luca Anderson."

My breath caught. Luca, seated behind his desk, gave an unimpressed look. "Phillip."

"Don't 'Phillip' me." The man enveloped me in a quick hug before I could react, pulling back with a chuckle.

"God, Luca undersold you. He said you were pretty. He didn't mention you'd be stunning."

Heat crept up my neck. "Oh—I..."

"Don't let him fluster you," Luca cut in, his voice calm, almost bored, but I didn't miss the sharp glance he sent him. "Phillip thrives on theatrics."

"Better theatrics than sulking," Phillip shot back easily before turning his full attention on me again. "So tell me, how are you handling my cousin's impossible mood swings? I tried for twenty years and failed."

I laughed, surprised at how natural it came. "Honestly? Some days are better than others."

Phillip threw his head back and laughed too, the sound rich and genuine. "I like her, Luca. She's quick. No wonder you—"

"That's enough," Luca said smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Still, Phillip winked at me like we shared some secret.

The ease in his manner tugged at something in me. Standing between the two cousins felt like standing between sunlight and shadow. Luca was control, precision, unreadable in every way. Phillip was warmth, mischief, impossible to dislike. And I couldn't help noticing how even Luca's shoulders seemed less rigid with his cousin there.

It made me wonder if Phillip was the only person who saw the man behind the mask.

"Leila," Luca's voice drew me back, low and deliberate, "there's something we need to discuss."

I straightened, nerves pricking instantly. "Of course."

"My parents want to meet you."

For a moment, I thought I misheard him. "Your... parents?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Tomorrow. It's my mother's birthday. There'll be a party at the estate. Family, friends, business associates. High-profile people. We'll make an appearance together."

Butterflies exploded in my stomach so violently it almost hurt. His parents. Julia and George Anderson—the kind of people whose names carried weight across the city. People who would see me, judge me, and possibly already know about the scandal from the charity gala.

"That's—" My throat went dry. "That's a big deal."

Phillip's grin widened. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

"Fun?" I squeaked.

"Julia's birthdays are legendary. There'll be games, champagne, probably fireworks. And don't worry," Phillip leaned closer conspiratorially, "Julia has excellent taste in people. If Luca brought you into her orbit, she'll adore you."

Easy for him to say. He hadn't been dragged through tabloids as the charity gala's embarrassment. He hadn't felt Alexis's venom cut through him like knives.

Still, I nodded, trying to ignore the quiver in my chest.

"I'll... I'll be ready."

"Good," Luca said simply, though his eyes lingered on me a fraction longer than usual. It was enough to make heat crawl up my skin.

Did he remember that kiss too?

Did it haunt him the way it haunted me?

Because for me, it had been impossible to forget. The press of his mouth, the way the world had seemed to still, the taste of champagne and fire leaving me rattled and breathless. And yet here he was, so unaffected, so composed, while I was still trying to catch my balance days later.

I hated him a little for that.

And hated myself more for wanting to feel it again.

"Don't worry about the wardrobe," Luca continued briskly. "My stylists will handle everything."

Wardrobe. Makeup. Accessories. They could dress me in diamonds, but that wouldn't stop the panic spinning inside me.

What if I said the wrong thing?

What if Julia looked at me and saw only a girl from Brooklyn, another mistake in Luca's otherwise perfect empire?

Still, another thought slid in quietly, almost rebelliously. This was an opportunity. To prove I wasn't the girl Alexis and Jodie smeared my name into being. To prove I belonged.

"I'll make sure to bring something for your mother," I said, surprising even myself with the steadiness in my voice. "A gift. Something personal."

Phillip beamed. "See? Thoughtful. She's a keeper, Luca."

Luca ignored him, but I swore there was a flicker, just the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared.

As I left the study later, my head spun. Not just from Jodie's venom or the staff's glares or even Phillip's easy charm.

But from Luca. Always Luca.

Because no matter how many walls he built between us, every stolen glance, every brush of his hand, every memory of that kiss made me wonder.

How much longer could I keep pretending this was just a job?

___

Restocking household supplies was mostly always strenuous and financially tasking, but not today, for once, I didn't mind.

Zara was pushing the cart, Kellan was trailing close behind, and I was hovering between the toiletries aisle and the snacks section, pretending I knew what I was looking for.

In reality, I was just enjoying this simple moment, the three of us doing something normal.

"Leila!" Kellan's voice rang out from the frozen foods section. He had both palms pressed against the glass of the freezer, staring dreamily inside. "Can we get ice cream? Please? Just a little. It's my first day back, remember?"

I laughed, shaking my head, but my heart warmed. He knew exactly how to get me, playing the school card.

"Ice cream, huh? And what flavor do you want, Mr. First-Day-Back?"

He turned to me with a grin so wide it showed the gap where his baby tooth had fallen out. "Chocolate chip. Obviously. School deserves chocolate chip."

"School deserves vegetables," Zara called from the next aisle, her cart already stacked with greens and boxed pasta. She appeared with a bag of rice balanced on her hip, rolling her eyes at us. "But since you've been such a good kid, I'll allow it."

Kellan pumped his fist in the air like he'd just won a football match. "Yes!"

I crouched beside him as I grabbed the tub of ice cream from the freezer. "So tell me everything," I said. "How was school? Did everyone remember you? Were your friends glad to see you?"

His eyes sparkled as he launched into his play-by-play. "It was awesome. At first, I was nervous, you know?

But then Diego was like, 'Bro, where have you been?' And Mrs. Garcia said she's glad I'm back because she missed my class clown jokes."

I ruffled his hair. "Of course she did. Nobody tells bad jokes like you."

"Hey!" he said, swatting my hand away, but he was laughing. "I'm funny. Admit it."

I held up my hands in surrender. "Fine. Hilarious. The funniest kid in Brooklyn."

He puffed out his chest proudly, and for a moment I just stared at him, grateful. Seeing him bounce back, his cheeks full of color again, it reminded me why I was doing all of this, every lie, every humiliating moment with Luca, every fake smile at those uptight dinners.

For Kellan.

For his future.

I placed the ice cream into the cart Zara had rolled over. "Okay, Zara, serious question," I said, slipping into the next aisle with her. "What on earth do you give a billionaire heiress for her birthday?"

She smirked, tossing a packet of cereal into the cart. "A soul. Because clearly, money already bought everything else."

I laughed so loudly a couple of shoppers turned to stare. "You're terrible."

"No, seriously," Zara said. "If Julia Watson Anderson already has yachts, private jets, diamonds, and a fleet of designer horses, what's left? A personalized moon rock?"

Kellan, still skipping beside us, piped up. "A spaceship!" That set us both off.

Zara slapped her thigh, nearly crying from laughter. "Yes, Leila. Forget jewelry. Just get her Elon Musk on speed dial and buy her a ticket to Mars."

I leaned against the cart, giggling. "Do you guys ever stop? I'm actually stressing over this."

"Then don't stress," Zara said, nudging me. "Just get her something thoughtful. Rich people don't need more rich things. Maybe something small but meaningful. A book, maybe? Or something handmade."

"Handmade?" I arched a brow. "Like what, me crocheting her a scarf? Yeah, that'll go over great in billionaire land."

We dissolved into laughter again, the kind of laughter that left my ribs aching.

For a few minutes, I forgot about Jodie's ugly sneer at the manor, her words ringing in my head like poison. Girls like you make all of us look cheap. The sting of that still sat with me, deep down, but surrounded by Zara and Kellan, I could breathe easier.

"Speaking of stress," I said after a while, picking up some shampoo, "Jodie really has it out for me. She was looking at me like I'd stolen the crown jewels, Zara."

Zara scoffed so loudly the man browsing cereal beside her flinched. "Please. That girl couldn't shine your shoes if she tried. Don't let her get in your head."

"She called me cheap," I said softly, feeling my throat tighten despite myself. "Like I was some Brooklyn gold-digger ruining the family's reputation."

Zara slammed the shampoo into the cart. "She's just bitter because you're living the dream she never had the guts to even imagine. Let her talk. People like that stay stuck while you keep moving."

"Exactly," Kellan chimed in, tugging at my sleeve.

"Ignore her. You're the best sister ever."

I bent to kiss his temple, smiling through the sudden sting of tears. "Thank you, buddy."

Zara straightened, placing her hands on her hips. "Matter of fact, when we move into our fancy new apartment, I'm gonna invite Jodie over just to let her see what hating gets you."

I burst out laughing. "Oh my God, please don't. She'll probably report me to the family.”

Zara grinned. "Worth it."

By the time we got to the checkout, we were still laughing at increasingly ridiculous ideas for Julia's gift. A pet giraffe. A private island shaped like her initials. A diamond-encrusted frying pan. The cashier gave us a look like we were insane, but I didn't care. For once, life felt light.

We packed everything into Zara's beat-up little car, and once we were on the road, I finally let the excitement bubble out. "Okay, guys. I did it. I made the payment."

Zara's head whipped around so fast I thought she might cause an accident. "Wait—you what?"

Kellan gasped from the backseat. "You mean, the new place?"

I nodded, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. "Three bedrooms, freshly painted, and in a nice neighborhood. No more leaking ceilings. No more landlords who 'forget' to fix the heater. It's ours."

"Leila!" Zara squealed, thumping the steering wheel with her palm. "You're kidding! Oh my God, we're actually doing this?"

I nodded, tears of joy stinging my eyes. "We're doing this. A fresh start."

Kellan whooped from the back, bouncing in his seat. "Can I decorate my room with superhero posters? Please? Like all over the walls?"

"Of course you can," I said, turning to grin at him. "It's your room, buddy. Go crazy."

He cheered so loudly Zara started laughing. "Leila, you do realize you've unleashed chaos, right? His room is going to look like the Avengers exploded."

"Let him," I said softly, still smiling. "After everything, he deserves it."

Zara's eyes softened as she reached across the console to squeeze my hand. "So do you."

We drove the rest of the way buzzing with plans. Zara wanted to paint the living room yellow—"warm and cheerful," she said. I wanted a little reading nook by the window. Kellan already had visions of a gaming corner. Every word made the apartment feel more real, like a dream slowly coming into focus.

As I leaned back in my seat, listening to them argue over paint colors, I realized something. For all the chaos with Luca, the sting of Alexis and Jodie's words, the constant pretending, I was building something real here.

A home.

A future.

A life for my brother where he could just be a kid again.

And that, I decided, was worth every lie I had to tell, screw my crack head mother and her bad decisions.