Stand-in Novels & Stories

Myra stood in the doorway, blocking the door as she coldly stared at Kris. “Kris, you should be thankful that I don’t have a recording of what you said to me in the past. Otherwise, the things that I can get for myself won’t stop at just those.”

Elara gasped, stepping forward. But as she reached out, another figure manifested ten feet away. This one was older, wearing a flight suit, her face lined with the stress of the ISS mission. And another—a Sarah in her thirties, holding an invisible child, her mouth moving in a silent, terrifying lullaby.

"Notify me the exact moment Camila arrives on the administrative floor." "Understood, sir." Stanley replied then he bowed and stepped out of the office. Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the wooden door and Stanley stepped inside again, holding the door open. “Sir, Miss Camila just arrived in the Administrative wing, Mr. Charles is conducting her onboarding orientation right now.” "Right.” I said, adjusting the cuffs of my suit jacket then I stepped out of my executive suite, making my way down the long corridor toward the glass-walled administrative department.

The door opened and a man in black stepped out, making me frown at him. “Miss Aria Robert?” He called out and my eyes widened as I nodded gently. “I'm sure your father has filled you in on everything. You'll be the stand-in bride for Mr. Rosanov. You'll sign the contract with me, his secretary, once you agree.” He said, his voice stoic and I glanced at the company for a moment. “What do I get from this deal?” I asked and he looked at me with raised brows like he couldn't believe I asked that question.

Alexander nodded curtly, stepping in front of the full-length mirror to check his collar. Vivian stood near the door, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She felt invisible amidst the corporate machine, a painted doll brought along to legitimize the King's throne. She looked at her reflection in the glass wall—the stark white dress, the severe updo, the pale skin. She looked like a ghost waiting for execution.

I squinted my eyes and looked toward the source of that shout. Across the road, Daniel stood beside a car. His suit was wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot, and there was a layer of stubble on his chin. He looked grim and disheveled, a far cry from his once-refined and noble self. He stormed across the street in long strides and shoved the young actor aside while reaching out to drag me with him. "You're coming home with me!"

JFK Airport, 6 AM. I walked out of customs, my eyes red and swollen from the long flight. As I was about to hail a cab, someone called my name. "Miss Isabella Romano?" I turned. A tall man was walking toward me. He wore a perfectly tailored black overcoat, his features sharp and classically Italian. But it was his eyes that caught me—a deep green, so dark they were almost black, and just as unreadable as the ocean.

she said walking to the door. " Ms. Walker?" She stopped then turned around facing me. " For the next meeting, I want to find you in the meeting room in your seat, no standing up, whoever wants more water or whatever they will get it themselves, under no circumstance you'll stand up from that seat unless I say so. Am I clear?" Although her outfit was decent it was too appealing and those bastards behavior was not helping. I didn't want to fire anyone. She looked at me confused but gave in.

We finally arrived at the venue. Mike parked, and we moved toward the grounds. The crowd was few, barely fifty people, and no one looked like a military officer, which was good because some of them were our people. A man that looked like Regan was already standing in the centre shirtless. He had no mark on his neck. I searched the back of his shoulder and found none. He had indeed forced Stacy into a union because he was supposed to carry her mark too. My father took off his shirt and stood in the middle.