Dystopian Society Novels & Stories

A week before the wedding, Sean Green begged me to date his best friend. "Honey, just one month. I'll come get you when it's over. You know better than anyone how to be a surrogate girlfriend. Please do this for me? Help him get over the regret of losing his first love so young." I said nothing and nodded without hesitation, but I was not doing it for him. Before I got together with Sean, I was indeed famous in high society as a surrogate girlfriend. So, when Sean pursued me, I did not believe him. I thought it was just another game some nepobaby had come up with until I rejected him for the ninety-ninth time. "Sean, I'm not some decent woman. I love money, and I've been a surrogate girlfriend for a lot of people. If you want me to act as one, we'll do this properly, and you can name a price." I tried my hardest to look arrogant, but he pried open my clenched hand and pressed a black credit card into my palm. His eyes were full of heartache as he said, "I have money. All you need to do is be yourself, my girlfriend, and my future wife. No one will ever make you a stand-in again." I believed him. At least, until a few days ago, when I saw his chat with his friends. [Now that the real one is back, the surrogate girlfriend doesn't seem so appealing anymore, right? Aren't you afraid she'll actually sleep with him since you're handing her off to someone else? Or run away with him?] Sean replied: [She won't. She loves me to death.] [Besides, it's not like I'm not going to marry her. I just want to make up for my regret when Anita's back this time.] [Ethan Foster is my best friend. He knows where the lines are. He won't touch her.] But Sean did not know that the best friend he was talking about had long since lost all sense of restraint with me.

I was known all throughout high society as the perfect, obedient daughter. Suitors lined up at my door in droves, yet I insisted on marrying Grayson Thatcher, whose family fortune had crumbled, all because of a promise we made when we were young. I thought we would be partners building a life together, but he fell deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, a girl who spent her days running wild. The night before our wedding, he went street racing with her and they both got arrested, causing him to miss the ceremony entirely. The scandal made it everywhere. On New Year's Eve, he left me to organize the family banquet alone while he ran off with his childhood sweetheart to some crowded plaza. To see a different display of fireworks, they set fire to balloons people had released into the sky and triggered a massive blaze. Once again, I exhausted every connection I had to get him out of the mess. I cleaned up 999 of his reckless mistakes and kept the Thatcher family's business afloat, making sure he could live without a care in the world. I thought that eventually, he would at least remember some small part of what we meant to each other. Yet when I fell critically ill and needed a heart transplant, he took the only available donor heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart instead. That was the first time I broke down and demanded answers. He stared at me, cold and unmoved. "You have the nerve to ask me that? If you hadn't forced yourself on me, I would've gotten together with Maeve years ago. You're as stiff as an old lady. How could you ever compare to someone like her? She's full of life. "I've let you play Mrs. Thatcher for over a decade. I was more than generous. Maeve is going to be my wife now. When she dies, we'll be buried together. You won't even get that much." I died consumed by bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the matchmaking event. I picked up the marriage proposal the Thatchers had sent and tore it to pieces. Then, I reached for the one from the wealthiest family in the room and smiled. "Dad, if I have to get married anyway, I might as well marry the man with the most money and power."