LOGINPretend to be his fiancée. Save her brother’s life. Don’t fall in love with a man who can’t see the truth. Celeste Harper is a master of voices, but her own life is a tragedy. Drowning in the suffocating medical bills for her comatose younger brother, she’s one missed payment away from losing the only family she has left. Until a cold-blooded offer from the city’s most powerful matriarch changes everything. The Task: Step into the designer heels of Vivian Lancaster—the socialite who abandoned her fiancé, Lucian Aldridge, the moment a brutal accident stole his sight. The Target: Lucian. A billionaire CEO turned into a recluse, a man whose bitterness is as sharp as the shards of glass that blinded him. He’s a wounded predator in a gilded cage, and he hates the woman who left him. The Problem: When Celeste speaks, Lucian doesn't just hear his fiancée—he hears the only reason he has left to live. Now, Celeste is trapped in a dangerous game of sensory deception. Every touch is a risk; every whisper is a lie. As she navigates the dark hallways of his estate and the growing, electric tension between them, the lines start to blur. To the world, she’s a gold-digger seeking redemption. To Lucian, she’s the only light in his darkness. But secrets in the Aldridge empire are never buried deep enough. In a world where he can’t see her face, Celeste must decide: how long can she play the role of a ghost before she disappears entirely? Because when the bandages come off and Lucian finally sees the truth—it won’t just be his heart on the line. It will be her life.
View MoreLucian had once been untouchable. A man who commanded boardrooms with a single look, who made billion-dollar deals over coffee like it was nothing.Now? He barely looked human.He sat in his pristine, too-grand-for-one-man dining room, unshaven, shirt half-buttoned, dark hair too long and curling at the ends. His beard? Borderline feral. And the whiskey in his grip? That was his new personality.Across from him, Marcus Langley adjusted his tie, looking one broken glass away from quitting.“Sir, the board is requesting an update. They’re growing uneasy with your—” Marcus hesitated, eyeing the half-empty bottle of Macallan. “—prolonged absence.”Lucian lifted his glass lazily. “Tell them I’m alive.”“That won’t be enough.”Lucian turned his blind gaze in his assistant’s direction, unfazed. “Then tell them to choke on their unease.”Marcus sighed, rubbing his temples. “Sir, if you’d just let me handle things—”Crash.Lucian slammed his glass down hard enough to rattle the dishes. “I am h
Celeste wasn’t sure what was worse—the way Lucian kept staring at her like he could see right through her, or the way Emelia watched her like she was waiting for her to fail.Both were suffocating.She sat stiffly in the oversized leather chair across from Lucian, his presence overwhelming even in silence. He wasn’t just a man who had lost his sight—he was a man who had lost everything and knew it. The weight of that loss pressed into the room like a storm about to break.And she was stuck in the middle of it.Lucian tilted his head, his fingers tracing the rim of his untouched whiskey glass. “You’re quiet, Vivian. That’s not like you.”Celeste’s stomach lurched. Shit.She forced a small laugh, keeping her voice light. “I figured you’d be happier if I shut up.”He smirked. “That’s more like you.”Across the room, Emelia leaned in toward Marcus Langley, Lucian’s assistant, her voice a sharp whisper.“She doesn’t belong here,” Emelia murmured, her gaze cold as ice. “She’ll fail.”Marcus
If Celeste ever wrote a memoir, this moment would be titled: The Exact Second I Regretted Every Life Choice That Led Me Here.Drenched, exhausted, and clutching a duffel bag that held everything she owned, she stood in the grand foyer of the Aldridge estate, shivering as rainwater dripped onto the expensive marble floor. The place screamed wealth—vaulted ceilings, chandeliers that probably cost more than her entire existence, and the distinct, crisp scent of money and power.Too bad the owner of said money and power had the personality of a rabid dog.A glass shattered against the wall just inches from her face, amber liquid splattering onto the pristine white columns.Her heart slammed against her ribs.“Get. Out.”The voice was lethal—deep, sharp, and laced with a kind of exhaustion that told her he wasn’t in the mood for visitors.Lucian Aldridge stood across the room, his imposing frame shadowed in the dim glow of his study. Dressed in black slacks and a half-unbuttoned dress shir
Celeste Harper had exactly $42.17 in her bank account, a landlord who side-eyed her rent extensions, and a hospital billing department that had her on speed dial. She needed a miracle. Or a lottery win. Or, at the very least, a drink that wasn’t a watered-down instant coffee from the breakroom.Instead, she had Amara Sinclair, best friend and personal bad-influence, dragging her toward an exclusive high-society party.“Come on, Cel, one night,” Amara pleaded, practically shoving a sequined dress into Celeste’s arms. “Noah’s stable. You need a break before you actually collapse.”Celeste sighed, rubbing her temples. “Amara, I have work in the morning. And I’m pretty sure these people drink champagne that costs more than my entire existence.”“Exactly.” Amara grinned. “Which means free drinks and a chance to network. You never know who’s looking for a new voice actress. Maybe some rich guy is desperate to hire someone who can sound like his long-lost lover or something.”Celeste rolled






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