Chapter 7: My Fake Boyfriend

ISLA

People know my mother as the kind of socialite who thrives on hosting events: charity auctions, high-end luncheons, endless gatherings. She attends them weekly, like it’s her full-time job.

This time, it’s their 50th wedding anniversary.

Not exactly a small number. And in my mother’s eyes, that kind of milestone deserves a grand, unforgettable celebration.

For the past year, she’d been pouring money into planning the event. In her mind, this party had to be the best, the biggest, the one people would still be gossiping about months from now.

As the only daughter in the family, I didn’t have a choice. Ever since I was a kid, she dragged me along to every social function she attended, like some living extension of herself.

She made a strong effort to shape me into a younger version of herself. I was her last chance to carry on her legacy, as my brothers had already been prepared to inherit my father's empire.

Which is how I ended up standing in the backyard of my parents’ estate, holding a glass of mocktail I didn’t ask for, surrounded by polite smiles, classical music, and a sea of pearls and tailored tuxedos.

They transformed the backyard into a fairytale. Tiny lights dangled from the trees, casting a soft glow over everything. A string quartet played classical music in the corner. Waitresses weaved through the crowd, offering up trays of overpriced hors d'oeuvres. The air was thick with expensive perfume and forced laughter.

I looked down, trying to hide how bored I was.

The party had only started at eight, but I was already dying inside.

I wanted to leave now. Worse, I’d come alone.

Not a single friend in sight to talk to, or to save me from small talk.

Moments like this made me miss Maya.

We used to come to these kinds of parties together, whispering snarky comments about the boring small talk and the over the top outfits.

She walked away the moment Mom’s little socialite circle turned their backs on her, right after her dad got arrested.

Maya decided to distance herself from the crowd that had once accused her, even though they now welcomed her back. She had created a new life with a new family and had moved on from the superficiality of that world.

And seeing her genuinely happy with that life, it made me a little jealous.

Somewhere deep down, I wanted that too. Genuine happiness. The problem was, I had no idea how to be happy.

“Isla.” Mom’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade.

I let out a deep sigh before making my way toward her. She and Dad were chatting with an older couple whose faces looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place them. Probably one of Dad’s colleagues or some long-time clients.

As soon as I stepped up beside Mom, I pasted on my best smile.

This is me. Just a pretty doll.

Mom gave me a head to toe scan. The Botox in her face made her expression nearly unreadable, but I knew her too well not to catch the subtle shift.

She wasn’t happy with what I was wearing tonight. But since we had company, she kept it to herself.

“Oh my gosh, Isla, look how grown up you are!” the woman in the black dress exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. “Feels like just yesterday you were in a school uniform!”

I gave her a polite, porcelain-doll smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Are you working with your father?” her husband asked.

I shook my head and caught the way Mom tensed beside me.

For a second, I considered lying. Coming up with a more “acceptable” job title for these elite social climbers. But I stopped myself. Let Mom be mad. I was over it.

“I work at Preston Group,” I said simply.

Judging by the way the woman was toting the latest Eleanor Rowe handbag, I was sure they knew the name. At least I could flaunt that I worked for a prestigious company, even if I wasn’t proud of much else at the moment.

I kept smiling, even as they lost interest in me. I might’ve been standing at the party, but my mind had checked out ages ago.

This is not my scene.

Lately, crowds like this made my skin crawl.

Clubbing didn’t excite me anymore. I’d rather curl up in bed with Gilmore Girls than spend hours faking interest in meaningless conversations with people who couldn’t care less.

“Why are you wearing that dress?” Mom’s icy tone snapped me out of my spiral.

I looked down at the emerald green satin gown I’d chosen. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it.

High neckline, long sleeves, fitted just right, falling to my ankles with a high sl*t that only peeked out when I walked. I styled my hair in an elegant bun and added long dangling earrings to finish the look.

“Why didn’t you wear the dress I sent you yesterday?” Mom pressed.

She’d sent me a plain white dress—utterly boring. The moment I saw it, I knew there was no way I’d put it on.

“Didn’t have time to get it cleaned,” I lied casually.

Her glare sharpened. “You know this party has an all-white theme.”

Of course, I knew. Hard to forget after receiving that dull white dress that was so not me. Same cut and style as the one she was wearing tonight. And that was precisely why I didn’t want to wear it.

I wanted people to see me tonight. Not just the youngest daughter of Abraham and Catherine Ainsley.

“Don’t wander off. I don’t have time to look for you,” Mom said in a low voice laced with threat.

I grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waitress and took a slow sip, watching Mom’s stiff expression over the rim of my glass.

“I want to introduce you to Edward,” she added.

My eyes widened. “Edward?”

Mom stared me down with that frozen expression of hers. It took everything in me not to tell her to lay off the Botox. Her face was slowly losing the ability to feel.

“Edward is Emanuel’s only son. He’s on holiday here in London, but heading back to the Netherlands next week to finish his master’s degree in business.”

Again, who the hell is Emanuel?

But that wasn’t the real question. I took another sip of champagne, already trying to find the words I’d need.

I knew exactly what Mom was doing. This wasn’t a casual introduction.

“Are you trying to set me up again?” I asked directly.

My guesses were usually right. This wasn’t the first time she’d paraded some guy in front of me, hoping he’d end up as my future husband.

Mom arched one perfectly sculpted brow.

“Obviously. It’s not like I can count on you to find a decent man on your own.”

Simple words, but they hit deep—straight to the softest part of me.

She never realized how much her words stung. And every time I tried to speak, my mom dismissed me as “too sensitive.”

“I’m not ready to get married,” I shot back.

“I’m not asking you to marry someone right away. I just don’t want you wasting time dating some loser,” she said.

Even though my parents’ marriage lasted fifty years, it never inspired me to want the same. They were more like business partners than lovers.

Mom got married at twenty. After having four sons, my parents believed their family was complete. But God had other plans. Mom got pregnant again at forty-three, and then I came along.

The age gap between me and my brothers was so wide that I never truly felt like I had siblings.

I was only really close with Ario, the fourth-born. We’re thirteen years apart.

Meanwhile, the distance and generational gap made the other three feel more like guests in the house. They barely came home, only showing up on weekends.

I’m the only one who’s still single. That fact alone is driving my mother insane. I’ve lost count of how many men she’s introduced me to, from diplomats' sons to rattan export businessmen.

I’ve had three ex-boyfriends. Not one passed Mom’s ridiculous “screening process.” Honestly, even if I dated a British prince, she’d still think her pick was better.

“There’s no need for matchmaking,” I blurted out.

She scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t trust your judgment.”

I held back from blowing up in the middle of this party. “I’m the one in the relationship. I know what’s best for me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re seeing someone now?”

D*mn it!

She totally misunderstood what I just said. I opened my mouth to deny it, then stopped myself. Maybe this could work in my favor, or it might make her drop the matchmaking idea.

“Introduce him to me. If he’s better than Edward, I’ll give you my blessing.”

I’m dead.

She walked off and joined my dad to greet his colleagues, leaving me frozen in place.

I grabbed a champagne glass and downed it in one gulp.

What the hell did I just do?

If I’d just admitted I wasn’t dating anyone, Mom would probably force Edward on me tomorrow, thinking I’m incapable of choosing a partner on my own.

Too late to backtrack now.

The problem is, I have to back it up. Mom’s not going to drop this until I show her who my so-called boyfriend is.

I scrolled through my contacts, hoping I could find a friend to act as my fake boyfriend just for tonight.

Nothing. Besides, who in their right mind would agree to something this insane?

I need another drink.

I looked around for a server, only to spot someone who made my eyes nearly pop out of my head.

What the hell is Julian Wolfe doing here?

I blinked, hoping it was a hallucination. But when I opened my eyes again, there he was talking to my oldest brother.

Sh*t. Julian knows my family?

A wild idea crept into my head, but I shut it down immediately.

Still, seeing him again brought back a stabbing pain. His words from before kept echoing in my mind:

“I will never touch you again.”

It wasn’t just what he said; it was the cold, final tone that made me feel so ashamed.

I wanted to be mad at him, but deep down, I knew I was the one at fault. A year ago, I ran away like a coward. Then I came back asking for something ridiculous just to satisfy my curiosity.

I really am selfish.

And now, here I am, actually considering dragging Julian into another lie.

Julian said goodbye to my brother and started walking away. But then he stopped when he saw me.

“I’m not here because of you,” I said quickly, raising a hand. I didn’t want him to think I was stalking him.

He let out a low laugh. “I know. You're the Princess of the family.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know my oldest brother?”

He nodded. “Preston Group is a client of your family’s law firm.”

Wow. Small world. My family owns a major law firm, and it just hit me that Preston Group is one of their clients.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mom. She was staring at me, then shifted her gaze to Julian. There was something sharp in her eyes. She probably thinks I’m seeing him.

I stepped back, trying to keep some distance, but it was too late. Mom was already making her way over. And suddenly, Dad was trailing behind her too.

Panic surged through me. Cold sweat trickled down my back.

I had two choices: tell the truth, or…

Without thinking, I grabbed Julian’s arm. And just as Mom arrived, I said, “This is my boyfriend. Julian Wolfe.”