Cassie’s POV
A black, tinted Mercedes was already parked in front of my estate gate, waiting for me.
I walked toward it and saw Dylan standing there, holding the door open. I was almost touched.. but no, this was still the bastard who’d made me review over a hundred files. That charm wasn’t going to work on me.
"Thanks," I said, still fuming, though I couldn’t help noticing how good he looked. Muscular, put-together. Annoyingly attractive.
"You look gorgeous. Beautiful. I..." He stared at me, trailing off. "Words are failing me right now."
"Thank you." I smiled. "How did you know my exact size?"
"A gentleman never reveals his secrets."
"Fine, fine. But I’ll give you this — you have great taste."
"Thank you, mi amor." He kept his eyes on the road. "Why didn’t you return any of my calls or texts? I’d understand if you were just busy."
"You don’t have to make excuses for me."
"Okay. At least we’re here nowthat’s what matters."
I nodded.
After what felt like an hour, we reached the Blackwood estate. The road leading in was private, theirs alone, lined with duplexes that didn’t look like anyone actually lived in them.
Then the main house came into view. Not just an estate — a mansion, enormous, with a row of absurdly flashy cars parked along the drive. I’d never seen anything like it. We pulled up out front, and he was around the car in seconds, holding my door open.
"Here, my lady." He offered his arm.
He led me inside, and I nearly stumbled — I actually thought, for a second, that this was what heaven looked like. Chandeliers hung perfectly from the ceiling. Every inch of the decor looked deliberate, expensive, exact.
Maids moved through the crowd in matching uniforms, trays of wine balanced on their arms, while clusters of guests stood around talking about themselves.
"Dylan!" a voice called out.
"Hey, Vanessa. It’s been forever — where have you been?"
"Europe, mostly. Trying to find myself." She turned to me. "And who’s this gorgeous woman?"
"Vanessa, this is Kate. My date."
"Hi, Kate."
"Hi, Vanessa. Nice to meet you."
"Yeah..."
At that point, I just wanted to go home. Every introduction added another thread to the lie he kept weaving me into.
(Chatter, indistinct)
"Great meeting you, Kate."
"You too."
Before I could even catch my breath, another voice called out — this one familiar.
"Dylan."
I turned and saw his father walking toward us. Panic hit instantly. What if he recognizes me? What if he sees straight through this?
I’m so dead.
"You must be Kate Winswood," he said, eyes locked on mine. "Your father and Dylan have told me so much about you."
"Yes, sir. It’s so nice to meet you." I forced the smile to stay put.
"Your father was my closest friend. Back in university, we were a lot alike — but above all, a good man."
"He talks about you constantly. How you practically saved his life."
He laughed. "Classic Winswood. He saved mine, more like."
"Okay, enough of the origin story." Dylan cut in. "I need to get my date to her seat — she’s been standing all evening."
"Of course. Head to the dining room, the meeting’s about to start."
We took our seats. Name tags sat at each place — mine next to Dylan’s, and on my other side, a tag that read Damien, with food already laid out.
My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten all day, and the smell hit me the second we sat down.
(Glass clinking)
"Everyone, gather at the table — let’s eat before we get into it."
Chairs filled around us. One seat, though, stayed empty.
"Isn’t your twin coming?" someone beside Dylan asked.
"I’m not exactly my brother’s keeper." His tone made it clear the two weren’t close.
"You have a twin?" I asked, curious despite myself.
"Yeah. He’s an asshole." Then, catching himself: "Sorry — I shouldn’t talk like that in front of you."
"It’s fine." Honestly, I didn’t care either way. All I wanted was to go home and disappear into my bed with a show on.
"We all know why we’re here," his father began. "For our father, grandfather, uncle, brother. A great man. Honestly, for a while I thought he might be untouchable."
"Guess not."
The table burst into laughter — chuckles, murmured side comments.
None of them actually cared. Not about the death, not about honoring him. They were here for something else entirely.
"We’ll eat first, then get into the real reason we’re all here."
Everyone looked pleased with that — laughing, easy, like they hadn’t just lost someone. Like the mansion and the cars parked outside weren’t paid for by exactly that loss.
"Shame," someone muttered.
Then, all at once, the laughter died. The chuckles dropped to murmurs.
"He’s here," a voice said.
I looked up and saw him. My stomach dropped.
What the hell.
The resemblance to Dylan was uncanny — except for the eyes. Cold. The exact stare I saw across my desk every day at work.
I turned to Dylan. No cold stare there. Just his usual, warmer expression.
I was so confused. How can there be two of— Before I could untangle it, a woman stepped up beside him.
Cecelia. His college girlfriend. Were they back together? Did that mean Dylan wasn’t my boss after all? A dozen questions collided in my head at once.
There was only one way to settle it. I turned to Dylan. "Do you work at Blackwood Holdings?"
He looked at me, confused by the question. "Of course. It’s my family’s company."
"Right, but — do you work with your twin?"
"No. He’s at headquarters."
I took a slow breath. I work at headquarters. Which meant, this whole time, the man I thought was my boss was actually his twin brother.
Relief and panic hit at the same time. He didn’t know who I was — that fear had all been in my head. And with the blonde wig on, there was no reason he’d figure it out now.
"Damien. I wasn’t sure you’d make it." His father rose to greet him.
The whole table went quiet, every eye following him to his seat.
"I need a seat for my guest," he said, voice low.
It’s him. It’s definitely him.
"This is a family meeting, Damien. You didn’t need to bring an outsider."
"She’s not an outsider. Dylan brought his — whatever she is to him."
Was he talking about me? Once an asshole, always an asshole.
"She’s my girlfriend," Dylan cut in. "We might get married. She’s basically family already."
"What?" I mumbled, staring at him as he dragged me even deeper into his family’s mess.
"Fine," his father said. "You can sit across from Kate. Your guest takes the seat with your name on it."
Perfect. Just perfect. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Now CeCe was seated beside me, and my actual boss was sitting directly across the table, in perfect view.
"You smell good," CeCe whispered.
"Thanks." Classic CeCe — always fishing for conversation. I wasn’t in the mood.
She was my real problem tonight. Too sharp, too observant.
"I’m Cecelia, by the way. And you are?"
"Kate," I said, hoping she’d take the hint and drop it.
"You remind me of someone. Same kind of energy."
Oh no. Here we go.
I’d known she’d catch on eventually.
"That’s... nice, I guess."
"Yeah, but—"
"Can I just eat?" I cut her off before she could finish that thought. Any more digging and she’d figure out exactly who I was.
The table had gone quiet, the silence heavy with everything nobody was saying out loud. Most of them clearly couldn’t stand each other. I could feel the tension from where I sat, but honestly, I didn’t have room to care.
"I’ve said hello to your dad. Can I leave now?" I whispered to Dylan.
"Stay a little longer. You’re half the reason I even came tonight."
"My friend needs me," I pushed. I couldn’t stay much longer — not with CeCe already suspicious, and my actual boss sitting right in front of me.
Thankfully, he hadn’t looked my way once. All I had to do was keep a low profile until dinner ended, then slip out.
Simple. No problem. Then find a way to cut things off with Dylan for good, and go back to my perfectly boring life.
It was a good plan — right up until I caught Damien staring at me like he could see straight through me.