Chapter three

CHAPTER 3: THE PLAN

The black town car Jane sent pulled up to a gleaming high-rise in Manhattan's Upper East Side. Lyra stepped out, squeezing her worn shoulder bag against the light rain that had followed yesterday's downpour.

The driver nodded toward the entrance without a word.

Inside, the lobby smelled of money, polished marble, fresh flowers, and whatever perfume the cleanly dressed receptionist wore.

"I'm here to see Jane McCormick," Lyra said, trying to ignore how out of place her thrift store clothes looked.

The receptionist glanced at Lyra's dripping umbrella. "Your name?"

"Lyra Winson."

The woman made a brief call, then pointed to the elevators. "Penthouse."

Lyra's stomach wobbled as the elevator shot upward. The mirrored walls mirrored her pale face, dark circles under her eyes from a sleepless night spent staring at her bank balance and approved check.

The doors opened directly into Jane's apartment.

"Finally!" Jane appeared from somewhere within the massive space. "I thought you might have backed out."

Lyra stepped forward, her wet sneakers squeaking against pristine white marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed Manhattan spread out like a toy set far below.

"Nice place," Lyra said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.

Jane wore silk loungewear that probably cost more than Lyra's monthly rent. Her blonde hair was pulled into a perfect messy bun that had definitely taken time to arrange.

"You look terrible," Jane said, examining Lyra with clinical detachment. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Let's just get to the details," Lyra replied. "I deposited the check. I'm committed."

Jane's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Good. Then sit."

She pointed to a white sectional sofa. As Lyra sank into its softness, Jane disappeared behind a bar counter and returned with two glasses of amber liquid.

"Drink," she ordered, handing one to Lyra. "You look like you need it."

The whiskey burned Lyra's throat. "So, tell me exactly what I'm getting into."

Jane placed a thick manila folder on the glass coffee table between them. "Everything you need to know about being me for the next six months."

Lyra opened it to find photographs, documents, and what looked like a detailed biography. "This is... thorough."

"It has to be. You're not just pretending to be me at a party. You're legally becoming Mrs. Ryker Blackwood." Jane sat across from Lyra, legs crossed at the ankle.

"The good news is that Ryker has never actually met me."

Lyra's head snapped up. "Oh, that”

"The arrangement was made through lawyers. Old money, old ways. My father kept me out of public life specifically so I could be valuable as a marriage pawn someday." Jane's voice was matter-of-fact, but her knuckles whitened around her glass.

"Ryker agreed to the marriage to settle my father's debts and gain the social connections my family name provides."

"How can someone agree to marry a person they've never even seen?"

"Welcome to the world I've been trying to escape my entire life." Jane took a long sip. "Rich people are different, Lyra. Marriage isn't about love; it's about assets and bloodlines."

Lyra flipped through the folder, finding detailed information about Ryker's businesses, properties, and personal habits. "And what happens during these six months?"

"Ryker will be in Tokyo, overseeing some massive corporate acquisition. You'll live in his estate in the Hamptons, playing the part of the dutiful new bride awaiting his return." Jane leaned forward.

"But here's where it gets good. You'll be anything but dutiful."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you'll redecorate his precious house. Throw lavish parties. Spend obscene amounts of his money. Create scandals. By the time he returns, he'll be begging for a divorce."

Lyra closed the folder, suddenly feeling the weight of what she'd agreed to. "And if he doesn't want a divorce?"

"Trust me, he will." Jane's smile turned cruel. "Men like Ryker Blackwood expect obedient wives who enhance their image. You'll be a walking public relations nightmare."

"What about his staff? Won't they know I'm not you?"

"Most haven't met me either. My father made sure of that." Jane stood and walked to the window.

"There's only one person who might be a problem, his head housekeeper, Mrs. Hargrave. She attended a charity function where I spoke last year."

"So she'll know immediately!"

"Not necessarily. We look similar enough at a glance….blonde, slim, blue eyes. And it was a brief encounter in a crowded room." Jane turned back to Lyra.

"Just avoid her as much as possible for the first few weeks. Once she's used to you being 'Jane,' any doubts will seem like her imagination."

Lyra stood too, trying to steady her shaking hands. "This is insane. There are too many ways it could go wrong."

"Three hundred thousand dollars, Lyra." Jane's voice hardened. "Half of which is already in your account. Think about what that means for your writing career. No more rejections dictating whether you eat or not."

Lyra thought of her manuscript, sitting unfinished on her laptop. Freedom to write without financial pressure. It was everything she'd wanted.

"Tell me about the wedding," she said finally.

Jane's posture relaxed slightly. "It's in ten days. Small, private ceremony. Ryker will attend via video call from Tokyo. The marriage license and all legal documents will be prepared in advance. You just need to sign."

"This is fraud, Jane. We could both go to prison."

"Only if we're caught. And we won't be." Jane picked up the folder and pressed it into Lyra's hands. "Memorize everything in here. By next week, you need to be me."

"What about my things? My apartment?"

"Put everything in storage. Use some of the money I gave you." Jane checked her watch. "And you'll need to be ready for a dinner tomorrow night."

Lyra blinked. "What dinner?"

"With my father and Ryker's lawyers. To go over the prenuptial agreement. Ryker will be on video call, but he'll only see you briefly." Jane smiled at Lyra's panicked expression.

"Don't worry, I've prepared notes on what to say. Just smile, nod, and speak as little as possible."

"This wasn't part of the deal."

"The deal is you becoming me, starting now." Jane walked to a hallway and beckoned Lyra to follow. "Come on. We need to start your transformation."

Lyra hesitated, then clutched the folder and followed Jane deeper into the apartment. At the end of a long hallway, Jane opened double doors to reveal a closet the size of Lyra's entire apartment.

"First lesson in being Jane McCormick," Jane said, pulling out dresses, shoes, and accessories. "Appearance is everything."

As Jane held a designer dress against Lyra's body, Lyra caught their reflection in the full-length mirror.

For a moment, with Jane standing behind her, they almost could have been the same person, similar height, similar build, similar coloring.

But Lyra's eyes were filled with uncertainty while Jane's gleamed with cold determination.

"What about you?" Lyra asked. "Where will you be while I'm playing house with a billionaire?"

"Somewhere sunny. Far away from my father's debts and expectations." Jane handed Lyra a black dress. "Try this on. We need to see what alterations are needed before tomorrow."

As Lyra changed behind a screen, Jane continued talking. "Just remember, Lyra. Make him hate you, but do it smartly. No confrontations, no direct challenges. Just be consistently, irritatingly unsuitable as his wife."

Lyra stepped out in the dress, which fit perfectly against her body. Jane nodded approvingly.

"Why me?" Lyra asked suddenly. "Why not hire someone professional?"

"Because you're desperate enough to take the risk but smart enough to pull it off." Jane's voice softened slightly. "And because despite everything, I trust you. You're the only one who knows the real me."

The words hung in the air between them, almost sincere enough to mask the manipulation beneath.

"Now," Jane said, her business-like tone returning, "let's work on your walk. Jane McCormick never slouches."

Lyra straightened her shoulders and followed Jane's instructions, feeling with each step like she was walking away from herself and into a life built on lies.

Outside the penthouse windows, Manhattan continued its relentless pace, unaware that in this luxury apartment, two women were plotting a deception that would change both their lives forever.