Chapter 4: Manipulation

Sienna never asked for favors. She demanded them wrapped in smiles.

I was riding a high I hadn't felt in years. The morning after I bought the midnight blue dress, an email landed in my inbox that made me scream into my pillow.

Subject: NeXus Gaming - Special Projects Lead

It wasn't just a contract extension. It was an offer to lead the development of the "Project Aether" expansion—a direct request from the executive board.

"You're going to rule the world," Lily screamed over FaceTime when I told her. "Forget the engagement party. We should be throwing a 'Aria is the Boss' party!"

"I still have to go," I said, unable to keep the grin off my face. "But now? Now I’m walking in there as the Lead of Project Aether. Not just the twin."

I spent the afternoon researching everything I could about the upper management structure I’d be stepping into. I knew Marcus was CFO, but I needed to know more about the man who apparently signed off on my promotion: Noah West.

The internet was sparse on details. Self-made billionaire. Started coding at twelve. Reclusive.

I found one clear photo from a tech summit three years ago.

Oh.

My breath hitched. He wasn't just 'handsome' in the way Marcus was—polished and safe. Noah West was devastating. Even in a still image, he had an intensity that burned through the screen. Dark hair, sharp jaw, and eyes that looked like they saw through every line of code you tried to hide behind.

"Okay," I whispered to my empty apartment. "So my boss is a Greek god. No pressure."

I looked at the midnight blue dress hanging on my door. Tonight, I would meet him. Tonight, I would introduce myself as Aria Stone, the woman who earned her place at his table.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

I didn't answer knocks. My building had a buzzer. If someone was at my door, they had bypassed security.

I opened it to find Sienna standing there, wrapped in an oversized trench coat and wearing sunglasses big enough to cover half her face.

"Sienna?" I blinked. "What are you doing here?"

My twin sister had visited my apartment exactly zero times in the three years I’d lived here. She usually sent couriers or summoned me to the estate.

"Can I come in?" She pushed past me before I could answer, bringing a cloud of expensive floral perfume into my stale, coffee-scented living space.

She looked around, her nose wrinkling slightly at my dual-monitor setup and the stack of gaming magazines on the coffee table. "It's... cozy."

"It's home," I said defensively. "The party starts in four hours, Sienna. Shouldn't you be getting prepped by your glam squad?"

Sienna turned to me, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in her porcelain mask. She took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but not from crying.

"I can't go," she said, her voice tight.

"What?"

"I have a migraine. A blinding, splitting migraine. I can barely stand up straight." She dramatically pressed a hand to her forehead. "But I can't miss this. The press is going to be there. NeXus investors. It’s the official launch of our 'power couple' image."

"Okay..." I said slowly, suspicion coiling in my gut like a snake. "So cancel. Tell them you're sick. People get sick."

"Not Sienna Stone," she snapped. "My brand is perfection. If I don't show up, rumors will start. They'll say Marcus got cold feet. They'll say the engagement is off. NeXus stock could dip."

She reached into her oversized tote bag and pulled out a garment bag and a sleek black box.

"You have to go."

"I am going," I said, confused. "I bought a dress. I was going to—"

"No," Sienna interrupted, stepping closer. She grabbed my hands, her grip surprisingly strong. "You have to go as me."

I pulled back as if she’d burned me. "Absolutely not. Are you insane?"

"Aria, please! We're identical. With the mask on, no one will know. We're the same height, same size. You just have to wear the dress, wave at people, and stand next to Marcus for the photos."

"Sienna, this isn't high school! We can't swap places at a corporate gala!" I paced the small room, my heart pounding. "I have my own life. I got a promotion today! I wanted to go tonight and network. I wanted to meet Noah West as myself."

Sienna’s face hardened. She knew exactly which lever to pull.

"If you do this for me," she said softly, "I’ll tell Mom about your award."

I froze.

"I'll make sure she knows," Sienna continued, her voice silky. "I'll tell her and Dad that you won Gold. I'll tell them they should be proud. I’ll make them throw you a celebration dinner. Just for you."

It was pathetic how much I wanted it. The memory of the cold dinner two nights ago, my father’s dismissal, my mother’s criticism—it all rushed back.

"You promise?" I whispered.

"I promise. I'll post about it on my I*******m too. Five hundred thousand people will know Aria Stone is a genius."

She held out the garment bag.

"Just two hours. Network for me. Smile. Don't embarrass the family. And stay away from the champagne; I'm supposed to be on a detox."

I looked at the midnight blue dress I had bought—the dress that represented me. Then I looked at Sienna, offering me the one thing I’d spent my entire life chasing: validation.

"Fine," I said, my voice hollow. "I'll do it."

The Transformation

Sienna sat on my couch, critiquing my makeup application while I transformed into her.

"More highlighter," she commanded. "I glow. You usually look like you live in a cave."

"I work in a studio," I muttered, applying the shimmering powder.

When I stepped into the dress she’d brought, I felt like an imposter in my own skin. It was black silk, strapless, and cost more than my car. It was stunning, undeniably, but it wasn't me. It was a costume.

Then came the mask.

It wasn't the delicate silver filigree I had chosen. It was black lace, stiffened and adorned with black crystals. It covered more of my face, leaving only my lips and chin exposed.

"Perfect," Sienna said, standing up. Her migraine seemed to have miraculously improved now that she had gotten her way. "Remember the rules. You love Marcus. You're excited about the wedding. And stay away from the bar."

"What about Noah West?" I asked, adjusting the mask. "He texted me. Aria. He's expecting to meet me."

"Ignore him," Sienna waved a hand dismissively. "Or just nod and smile. He's weird anyway. Socially awkward. He probably won't even approach you if he thinks you're me. He hates influencers."

"Great," I muttered. "So I just stand there and look pretty."

"That's the job," Sienna smiled, sharp and predatory. "Don't mess this up, Aria. My reputation is in your hands."

She left as quickly as she had arrived, leaving me standing in the middle of my apartment, dressed as a woman I resented, about to walk into a room full of people I wanted to impress, armed with nothing but a lie.

I looked at my reflection.

"I'm Sienna Stone," I practiced, forcing a bright, vapid smile.

It felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal of the girl who stayed up until 2 AM coding.

It's just one night, I told myself. For Mom. For Dad.

The cab ride to the Grandeur Hotel was a blur of city lights streaking across the window. I clutched my clutch bag—Sienna's clutch bag—so hard my fingers cramped.

My phone buzzed.

Lily: Where are you? I'm at the entrance. You ready to knock them dead in that blue dress?

I felt a pang of guilt. I couldn't tell Lily. She would drag me out of there by my hair if she knew I had caved to Sienna again.

Me: Change of plans. Running late. Go in without me.

I silenced my phone and dropped it into the bag.

The cab pulled up to the curb. The entrance to the Grandeur was swarming with paparazzi. Flashes popped like strobe lights, blinding and chaotic.

I took a deep breath.

Showtime.

I stepped out of the cab.

"Sienna! Sienna, over here!"

"Sienna, show us the ring!"

"Who are you wearing, Sienna?"

The wall of noise hit me instantly. I instinctively raised a hand to block the flashes, but then I remembered Sienna lived for this.

I lowered my hand. I tilted my chin up. I plastered on the smile I had practiced in the mirror.

"Chanel!" I called out to a camera, just like I’d seen her do a thousand times.

The photographers ate it up. I walked the red carpet, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every step felt like a lie. Every flash felt like an interrogation light.

I reached the top of the stairs and slipped into the ballroom.

It was a sea of masks and tuxedos. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the elite of the tech and fashion worlds.

I scanned the room for Marcus. I needed to find him, glue myself to his side, and get this over with.

My phone buzzed again inside the clutch. I risked a glance.

Sienna: Remember, you're me tonight. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. ;)

I shoved the phone back down.

"I'd pretended to be my sister for two hours at her college interview once," I muttered to myself, adjusting the black lace mask. "This is just a party. What could possibly go wrong?"

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne. I grabbed a glass, ignoring Sienna's detox rule. I needed liquid courage.

I took a sip and turned around, scanning the crowd.

And that’s when I saw him.

Across the room, standing alone near a marble pillar, was the man from the photo.

Noah West.

He was wearing a black tuxedo with a black shirt—no tie. He held a tumbler of whiskey loosely in one hand. He wasn't wearing a mask. He didn't need to. His face was the mask—stoic, bored, and devastatingly intense.

And he was looking right at me.

Not scanning the room. Not looking past me. He was looking at me.

His eyes locked onto mine, dark and piercing, stripping away the crowd, the noise, and the distance between us.

My breath caught in my throat.

He thinks I'm Sienna, I reminded myself. He hates influencers.

But the way he was looking at me didn't feel like hate. It felt like... recognition.

He took a step toward me.

Everything, I realized with a sudden jolt of panic, was about to go wrong.