The Billionaire's Professional Stand-In

Tags: Substitute Romance, Clear-Headed Female Lead, Career-Driven, Return of the First Love, Subverting Tropes After getting blacklisted by my agency, I became the substitute lover for Julian Vance, an elite billionaire tycoon. Julian warned me coldly, "You are nothing more than a shadow. Don't catch feelings." I understood completely. Following standard business protocol, I handed over a professional price sheet, clearly itemized: "Five thousand to chat. Ten thousand to smile for your guests." "If you need me to cry a river for you, since you're a VIP client, I'll give you a twenty percent discount." Later, when his first love returned from abroad, Julian told me to "disappear for a while." Without missing a beat, I pulled out a formal Work-from-Home request: "During this period of emotional quarantine, my rate will be billed at triple pay." When Julian Vance's first love went abroad, I stepped in as her stand-in, pulling in a cool million a month. I was originally a D-list nobody in Hollywood, but I happened to share a seventy-percent facial resemblance with Claire Vance. With full makeup, the difference was practically invisible. Throw in my intentional method acting, and as long as I kept my mouth shut, I was Claire Vance herself. Julian demanded that I stay glued to his side wherever he went. Naturally, the tabloids quickly branded me as his latest plaything. Some gossip rags even mockingly dubbed me "Claire 2.0." I couldn't care less. Some people, however, couldn't sit still. I was walking beside Julian, casually soaking in the stares around us, when a shrill woman's voice shrieked right at me: "You little home-wrecking gold digger! How dare you show your face here again! You little tramp!" A high-society matriarch raised her hand high to strike. Just as I was about to dodge, a thought flashed through my mind. I immediately ducked behind Julian. *Slap!* The blow landed squarely on Julian's cheek with a crisp, echoing crack. I shrank my neck, trembling, eyes welling up with tears on cue. "Mrs. Vance, I don't know what I did wrong!" "Mr. Vance told me to come, so I came! If you're upset, please take it out on me with words, but don't resort to violence! It would be terrible if you hurt Mr. Vance!" My tone was a hundred-percent pitch-perfect imitation of Claire. Hearing my voice, then catching sight of the tiny beauty mark by the corner of my eye, the older woman turned purple with rage. "Julian! You actually hired a cheap body double?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" "Mother, I listened to you and sent her abroad, but as for the rest of my life, you'd better keep your nose out of it." "Otherwise, don't expect your monthly allowance to clear." Hearing this, Mrs. Vance turned incandescent with fury, screaming at the top of her lungs as the private security guards escorted her out. Only then did Julian turn to look down at me. "You moved pretty fast just now. Using me as a human shield, are we?" "Julian... could you really bear to watch me get hit?" My expression, tinged with fragile grievance, looked virtually indistinguishable from Claire's. Julian froze for a second. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode into his corner office. I scoffed internally. Even if I had a price list, I wasn't an idiot. I wasn't going to volunteer to take a physical hit for anyone! You're the grand romantic martyr here, Julian. Take the slap yourself! I headed over to the executive assistant pool, prepped the necessary briefing documents, and carried them into Julian's office. He was leaning back in his leather chair, taking a call. His low, commanding voice matched the razor-sharp profile of an untouchable billionaire. After quietly appreciating the eye candy for a moment, I waited as Julian hung up and looked up at me. I gave him a polished, sweet smile. "Mr. Vance, here's the proposal from Galaxy Entertainment. You have a lunch meeting scheduled with Mr. Hayes today at noon." "And at two in the afternoon, Mr. Vance Senior's private art gallery exhibition begins." Julian glanced at the calendar and said in a clipped voice, "You're coming with me to lunch." "I have other plans for lunch, unfortunately." Galaxy Entertainment was Claire's former agency—and mine, too. Their CEO, Hayes, was a notoriously sleazy creep. I had been blacklisted precisely because I refused to let him grope me. Cornered and broke, I had taken the gig playing Claire's substitute. Before my refusal could hang in the air, my phone buzzed. A PayPal notification showed a fresh thirty-thousand-dollar deposit. My eyes lit up, and I flipped my script instantly. "To be able to accompany you and expand my network, Mr. Vance? Nothing could make me happier!" "Claire wouldn't be so openly obsessed with cash. You overacted. Deducting five thousand." Hearing that, I instantly smoothed away my grin, tilted my head slightly, and curved my lips into a gentle pout. "Julian... you're bullying me again!" The breathy, coquettish tone matched the precise tilt of my chin. Julian was momentarily captivated, staring at me in utter silence. I stood there quietly, my peripheral vision catching the framed photograph on his desk. It was a shot of him and Claire together. *Tsk.* She only moved to Europe, not outer space. Is buying a first-class plane ticket really that hard? Still, he was my client, and the customer was always right. At noon, I accompanied Julian into the private dining room as scheduled. When Hayes from Galaxy Entertainment saw me walk in, a look of shock flickered across his face before he broke into a greasy grin. "Mr. Vance, what incredible luck you have!" Julian merely gave a curt nod without saying a word. I stayed quietly, demurely behind him. Once seated, the men toasted and drank, while I provided polite, airy small talk from the side. Halfway through, I excused myself to the restroom. As I finished washing my hands and looked up at the mirror, a heavy shadow loomed behind me. I turned instinctively, only to find Hayes cornering me. He stepped in entirely too close, slipping a sweaty palm onto my waist like a cold, venomous snake slithering up my spine. My entire body went rigid. I whipped around and slapped him hard across the face!Hayes raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Still got that wild streak, huh? Don't think for a second that hooking up with Julian Vance makes you royalty. At the end of the day, you're nothing but a knockoff stand-in!" "Once the real deal flies back, you'll be tossed out on the curb like trash. Why not secure your next safety net right now?" With that, he roughly clamped his fingers around my jaw. "Galaxy Entertainment is still an empire you can't afford to cross. How much is Vance paying you anyway? I'll double it. How's that sound?" Disgusted, I shoved him off with all my strength and bolted for the door. But in an instant, a fist full of my hair was yanked back hard! "Fucking bitch! Who do you think you are?! Acting all high and mighty for a damn body double! Trust me, with one word from me, Julian Vance would hand you over on a silver platter!" A sharp throb tore through my scalp. "Let go of me, Hayes! Aren't you afraid of what Julian will do to you?! Even if I'm just a stand-in, I'm his person right now!" "You think he'd cross me over a toy like you?!" He dragged me toward an empty private room. I screamed at the top of my lungs, only to be met with two vicious backhands across my face, leaving my cheeks burning with sharp pain. Just as his reeking mouth leaned in, a massive force tore him off me, and Hayes went flying backward through the air! The next second, I was pulled into a broad chest. A heavy wool coat draped over me, enveloping me in the crisp, calming scent of cedarwood. My racing heart instantly settled. It was Julian. Hayes scrambled up from the floor, spitting mad. "Vance! You laid hands on me over a worthless little bitch like her?!" "There are security cameras in this hallway," Julian said, his voice ice-cold. "If you don't want this getting messy, get the fuck out of my sight right now." Livid, Hayes dusted off his suit jacket. "Fine. Just fine. You just wait and see!" Julian watched him storm off with a dark scowl, then turned his gaze down to me. I clung tightly to his sleeve, tears brimming in my eyes from the shock. "Let's go. Back to the car." I trailed close behind him. Only when we were inside the private vehicle did he glance over at me, his voice flat: "Claire would never cause a chaotic scene like this. You don't hold a candle to her." I had been busy leaning into the fragile victim mood, but hearing that threw me completely off balance. A wave of bitter sarcasm slipped out before I could stop it: "Right, of course. Miss Claire would never get into an altercation. Unlike me, who refused to play along with the industry's sleazy casting couch games and got blacklisted for it." My sharp comeback clearly struck a nerve. Julian's eyes hardened. "Get out." I was furious too. I shoved the door open, stepped out into the chilly air, and slammed it shut. He floored the gas pedal, leaving me coughing in a cloud of exhaust. A second later, my phone buzzed with a text notification: *[Insubordination toward your superior. Deducting $50,000.]* "You absolute bastard, Julian Vance! I quit!" I stomped my heel, screaming at the red taillights fading into the distance. Yet, within seconds, the sleek black luxury sedan that had vanished down the street slowly reversed, gliding smoothly back to a halt right beside me. The tinted window rolled down. Julian glared out at me with a thunderous face. "You quit?" My heart jumped into my throat! "No! No, definitely not quitting! You misheard me! I meant, next time something like this happens, I definitely won't handle it that way!" Cursing out my billionaire boss on day one and getting caught red-handed—talk about terrible luck. Not to mention I had just been docked tens of thousands! "Mr. Vance... does this count as a workplace injury?" "Showing up to the art gallery exhibition looking like this probably isn't appropriate. Would it be alright if you went on your own?" I asked tentatively, playing timid. Julian gave me a sideways glance, then stepped on the gas and sped off again. I grumbled under my breath, only for my phone to buzz again with another message: *[Approved.]* Well, cheapskate Julian wasn't entirely heartless—aside from his obsession with docking my pay. Over the following weeks, Galaxy Entertainment took a beating. Negative scandals broke out back-to-back regarding Hayes's top signed talent, sending their stock price into a tailspin. Paparazzi snapped photos of Hayes looking haggard and furious, hurrying out of his luxury car looking like he hadn't slept in weeks. Industry insiders estimated that his company's market cap had plummeted by at least a hundred million dollars!Nobody knew who had the guts to expose Hayes's A-list stars with an endless stream of devastating dirt. He had clearly crossed the wrong powerhouse! I scrolled through the news, laughing, until a sudden realization struck me. Could this be Julian's doing? With that thought in mind, I carried a fresh mug of coffee and tapped on his office door. "Julian, your favorite black coffee." I placed it gently on his mahogany desk, stepped around behind his chair, and began massaging his shoulders. Julian let out a low, relaxed sigh, leaning his head back against the leather cushion with his eyes closed. "Julian... did you do that to Galaxy Entertainment?" His Adam's apple bobbed slightly. After a long pause, he murmured, "He laid hands on what was mine. He had it coming." So it really was him. A warm swell of secret joy fluttered in my chest. Even though I knew the person he was defending was technically Claire's ghost, I couldn't help feeling a little smug. "Lydia," Julian spoke up suddenly, using my real name, "at the upcoming annual corporate gala, you'll be the headlining act. You're singing 'Fading Twilight.'" The abrupt request caught me off guard. I hesitated for a split second before nodding in agreement. If memory served, that ballad was Claire Vance's breakout hit single. Julian truly was pathologically obsessed with her. For the next two months, I spent every spare moment rehearsing vocal tracks. Julian even had me move into his private mansion, allocating a dedicated studio just so I could sing it acapella for him. To outsiders, it looked as though the stand-in had successfully seduced the reclusive billionaire and moved into his inner sanctum. A tabloid even slapped a splashy headline on their front page: *[The Stand-In Wins: Julian Vance Hides His New Flame in Golden Cage.]* Unfortunately, the trending topic was taken down barely an hour after it went up. I didn't need to ask to know Julian had pulled the strings, but I didn't care. Our dynamic had smoothed into an easy rhythm. We could banter, laugh, and spend quiet evenings together without awkward tension. In his free time, Julian would take me to visit every landmark, café, and scenic spot he and Claire had once frequented. Forced to listen to his nostalgic monologues about their past, I couldn't help thinking he was remarkably devoted. Eventually, I couldn't resist asking, "Why don't you just ask her to come back?" "It's only a plane ticket away." Julian offered a bitter, self-deprecating smile. "She wanted to pursue her dreams. I support her." I frowned slightly. I didn't know Claire personally, but she was a rising starlet who had abandoned her booming career right at its peak to head to Europe. What kind of artistic dream was worth throwing that away for? I didn't understand it, but I respected the check. Until that night. I went to the gala venue for the final dress rehearsal. When the house lights dimmed, I stood center stage as the headliner. Julian had slipped in unnoticed at some point. Looking up at me, a rare flash of stunned awe crossed his eyes. I had styled myself down to the millimeter according to Claire's aesthetic: an ivory trench coat over an understated blush-pink silk dress, a matching scarf tucked neatly around my neck, hair swept up in an elegant chignon, and classic pearl drop earrings. The look was pristine, delicate, and impeccably refined. As I sang the ballad, my tone was deliberately breathy, effortless, and soulful—projecting a completely different aura from Claire's airy pop delivery. Julian's lips curved slightly. Holding a glass of vintage red wine, he leaned back, drinking slowly as his gaze remained glued to me. The deep affection in his eyes was almost intoxicating. Until a sharp ringtone shattered the melody. "Julian... I'm home!" In the vast, cavernous ballroom, his breathing turned ragged. His voice shook uncontrollably. "Okay... I understand." When he hung up, I looked down from the stage and smiled warmly. "Julian, did I sing it well?" The warmth in Julian's eyes retreated millimeter by millimeter, turning into a sheet of frozen glass. "Lydia, thank you for your hard work. Starting now... you can temporarily disappear." A brief wave of disorientation hit me before clarity took over. Claire was back. After disappearing for three months, she finally couldn't hold out any longer. I clenched my hands into fists, then pulled my lips into a flawlessly professional smile. "Understood, Mr. Vance. However, I have one request." Julian's expression darkened instantly. "Lydia, remember your place. Don't say things you shouldn't." "Your payout will be settled in full, and the deed to the luxury condo in Grand Bay will be transferred to your name. Beyond that, don't harbor any delusions." Unflustered, I reached into my designer handbag, pulled out a neatly typed agreement, and offered it to him. "Mr. Vance misunderstands. I am merely submitting a formal request to work from home. During this emotional quarantine period, please bill my hours at triple pay." "After all... nobody knows whether Miss Claire is actually here to stay."