Paid to be the CEO's Girlfriend

Rhea's POV

“I’m going to be late,” I muttered, checking my watch again — 9:40 AM. Twenty minutes until the appointment. Twenty minutes until I was supposed to legally tie my life to Kevin’s.

The taxi crawled through downtown traffic, each inch forward feeling like a cruel joke. Today was the day that my fiancé and I were going to register our marriage. I was happy, really, however… I stared at the rear view mirror, frowning at my red rimmed eyes which I tried to cover with makeup, to no avail though.

I glanced into the rearview mirror, frowning at my red-rimmed eyes. Concealer hadn’t done much to hide them.

Kevin hadn’t come home last night. Again. Fifth night in a row.

“Emergency merger negotiations. Don’t wait up.”

His text had echoed in my head all morning. Business. It was always business. Maybe the first time, I believed him. Maybe even the second.

But the fifth?

And then there was Ginny. The five-second video she’d posted late last night — dim lights, clinking glasses, and in the corner of the frame, the unmistakable edge of Kevin’s navy shirt.

The one I gave him for his birthday.

I hadn’t confronted him. Not yet. What was the point? Every time I brought something up, he acted like I was losing my mind.

“Are you accusing me? I love you, Rhea. Just you. Don’t act like some jealous woman — I hate that.”

His voice would be full of gentle disbelief, laced with just enough warmth to make me second-guess myself.

I looked away from the mirror, forcing my breathing to slow.

Ginny. The girl who once followed me around with wide eyes and timid smiles. Who cried when she moved into our home, clinging to my mother like the only family she had left. I pitied her once. Protected her.

Now?

Now she was the one everyone looked at.

My parents had adopted her four years ago. Since then, it was like she replaced me, piece by piece. My parents adored her. My little brother, the staff, everyone. She slipped into our lives like a stray cat that refused to leave — and somehow, stole more than just affection.

The car jer-ked slightly at a red light, snapping me out of my thoughts. Ten minutes left.

I adjusted the ring on my finger, a beautiful, custom-designed diamond Kevin had given me during our engagement. It felt heavy today. Heavier than usual. Maybe because it carried the weight of a promise that was starting to feel more like a lie.

“Just one more chance,” I whispered, my fingers brushing the marriage license resting on my lap.

We’d been together three years. He used to wait outside my law lectures with coffee, memorize my schedule just to “accidentally” bump into me. He proposed under the Brooklyn Bridge, hands trembling as he slid the ring onto my finger.

But that Kevin… was gone.

“Ma’am?” the driver said, cutting into my thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I think you should know… a van’s been following us for at least three intersections. Gray. Right by your side window. Might be a coincidence, but...”

I froze. Slowly, I turned my head.

My eyes immediately caught the man staring at me through the windshield at the driver's seat. He was wearing a baseball cap and a jagged scar ran down the side of his face. He stared at me, unblinking and a chill ran down my spine.

There’d been news reports lately — a serial killer on the loose. Young women in their twenties, all found in alleyways. Cameras never caught his face.

I shivered again, “There's no way it can be him, I'm sure something's just wrong.” I mumbled, my hands already shaking.

I turned back again.

He was still staring.

“Danm it.” I fumbled with my phone, unlocking it quickly and dialing Kevin’s number. My heart pounded with every ring.

Six rings later, he finally answered.

“What is it?” Kevin questioned, he sounded annoyed.

“K… Kevin, where are you? Someone's been following me for a while now, I'm at the third intersection west of the city hall, I…”

“Don’t go to the registry,” Kevin cut in. “Something more important came up.”

More important than our wedding?

“What do you mean-”

The line went dead.

I stared at the screen, stunned. Then a message popped up. From Ginny.

I tapped it open. My stomach dropped.

A photo.

Ginny, smiling, holding a cake. Kevin behind her — arms around her waist. His eyes soft. His smile genuine. He never looked at me like that.

They were at that five-star restaurant I had always wanted to go to. The one I mentioned on our anniversary.

My brother and parents were there too, seated at the same table.

On the chair beside her sat the Chanel bag.

The one I had begged Kevin for on our anniversary. The one he said was "too expensive" with my mother’s medical bills piling up. Squinting, I could see Kevin's signature handwriting on the receipt near the bag.

My birthday was three days ago.

No one had remembered.

But here they were, celebrating hers?

I hadn't even finished wrapping my head around it when Ginny sent me a message which read: ‘Sister, you didn't wish me a happy birthday but brother-in-law did, thank him for me!’

“Ha… Hahaha.” I laughed. A quiet, bitter laugh that rose slowly from my throat.

“Miss?” the driver asked cautiously.

“Turn around,” I said, sinking back into the seat.

“There’s no need to go to the registry anymore.”

“...Okay miss.”