MY DEAR BROTHER IS OBSESSED WITH ME

The bar stank of stale beer and cheap cologne, a mix as nauseating as the nerves twisting my stomach. I sat at the corner booth, my knees bouncing under the table. My boyfriend Tony had called me earlier that night and been pretty cryptic about why he wanted to meet here tonight, but something in his tone told me it wasn't good. The dark light of the bar shaded across his smug grin as he slipped into the seat opposite me, far too pleased with himself. "Violet," Tony began without embellishments of any sort. His voice was cold, detached. "We need to talk."  

A wave of dread washed over me. "Talk about what?

Tony leaned back, adjusting the cuff of his designer shirt—a shirt I'd bought him as a birthday gift. "I got a new job," he said, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction.  

"That's great," I said cautiously. "What's the job?"

"It's at an upscale firm," he said, articulating "upscale" in a way that suggested I wouldn't know what that means. "I'm moving up in the world, Violet, and." He stopped, really lingering on it like a perfect little ah. "I can't be seen with someone like you anymore."  

His words hit me like a slap across the face. "What?" I whispered, shocked by what I was hearing.

Tony rolled his eyes into the back of his head, as if I was the unreasonable one here. "I mean, come on. You're just a background actress. No offense, but you're not exactly someone I can show off. I need someone who matches my new status."

My blood boiled. "After everything I have done for you over the last three years? Supporting you when you had nothing? Encouraging you when you wanted to quit? This is how you repay me?"  

Tony shrugged, very much unconcerned about my rising anger. "It's not personal, Violet. It's just reality. You're not good enough for me anymore.

I am on my feet in a flash, so abruptly that the scraping chair echoes loudly on the floor. "You ingrate!" I scream, reaching for the glass of water on my front. My hands were trembling as I prepared to fling it at the smug face of Tony.

But in my anger, my aim was off. The water splashed onto the crisp white shirt of the man seated at the next table. His dark eyes widened as the water soaked into the expensive fabric.  

"Oh no!" I gasped, panic replacing my anger. "I'm so sorry!" I grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at the man's shirt. "I didn't mean to—this was for him!"

The man—tall, dark-haired, and ridiculously handsome—raised a brow but said nothing, watching me with mild amusement as I frantically tried to fix my mistake.  

"Violet," Tony sneered, trying to slip past me.  

I spun around, blocking his path. "Not so fast! You owe me money for rent! You promised you'd help, and I've been covering for you for months!"

Tony's face went black. "Move," he spat.  

"No!" I yelled. "You don't get to turn your back on this and not pay me what you owe me."  

In a flash, Tony lifted his hand and slapped me in the face. It stung, and I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my cheek. Gasps tittered through the bar as everyone turned to stare.

Before I could say or do anything, the man whose shirt I'd drenched rose to his feet, eclipsing Tony. Though calm, his voice was leading. "You don't hit women. Ever."  

Tony snorted. "This is none of your business, pal. Back off."  

His dark eyes narrowed. "You made it my business when you put your hands on her.

Tony grabbed a glass from the table and swung it at him, but the man dodged effortlessly, catching Tony’s arm and twisting it. Tony yelped in pain as the glass clattered to the floor.  

The stranger didn’t let go, his voice icy. “Apologize to her. Now.”  

“Fine!” Tony spat, glaring at me. “I’m sorry, Violet. There, happy?”

The man released him, and Tony staggered back, rubbing his arm. He shot me a venomous look before storming out of the bar.  

There was a moment of silence before the man turned to me. "Are you okay?"  

I nodded, still in shock. "Thank you… for stepping in.

He gave me a faint smile. "No one deserves to have to put up with anyone like that." He glanced at my cheek. "Want some ice for that?"

I shook my head and suddenly felt self-conscious under his steady gaze. "I'll be okay. Really."

The man hesitated, then offered a hand. "I'm Clyde West.

I did a double take, placing the name. Clyde West was one of the richest men in town, a real estate magnate with a reputation for being both cutthroat and charitable. What was he doing in a dive like this?  

"Violet," I said, shaking his hand.

Clyde's face changed, something darkening in his eyes. "Violet…" he repeated softly, as though the name conveyed some importance to it.  

"Yes," I replied with caution.

He looked for a moment as though he were lost in thought, until he said, "I'm sorry if this sounds strange, but I've been searching for someone named Violet. My sister. She went missing years ago, and my father. well, he's dying. His last wish is to see her again."  

My heart ached at the sadness in his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you find her.

Clyde stared at me hard. "You look a lot like her."

"What?" I blinked, taken aback.

"Would you be willing to help me?" he asked seriously. "Pretend to be my sister. Just until my father…" He swallowed hard, his voice trailing away. "I'd pay you a million dollars a day. It's the only way to grant him some peace.

My jaw dropped. "A million dollars a day?"  

"Yes." Clyde's gaze was unyielding. "All you have to do is masquerade as Violet West. You would be granting a dying man his dying wish."  

The offer was insane, but I couldn't defy the desperation in his eyes, or the thought of what that money could do for me.

Okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do it."  

Clyde nodded, clearly relieved, the tension visibly releasing from his features. "Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."  

And just like that, my life changed in ways I couldn't have imagined.