e her. She flung her bag onto the bed, the motion echoing her frustration. Col

n't help but think of the countless times she had devoted herself to her role as a double, all with the hope that she would event

w misty as the pain washed over her. She was upset with herself for believing the wo

r, her mind reeling with the realization that she had been nothing more than a pawn in Mr. Mar

She wiped them away, but her gaze fell upon the printed file of Gerald's compensation list, lying on her

envelope Binnie had given her earlier slipped out, falling to the ground like a forgotten secret. She

pulling her in different directions. She stood there for what felt like an eter

, just maybe, a miracle could happen, and she might win the favor of the highly esteemed Directo

ow with a subtle warmth, complementing her sun-kissed skin and dark hair. The classic, strapless design accentuated her toned shoulders and slender neck, while the s

air, styled in a sleek, low bun, added a touch of sophistication to her overall look. She clutche

ies and philanthropists mingled in groups, their designer clothes and jewels glinting in the light. The air was

of this world made her feel like an imposter. It wasn't that she looked out of place – her gown and heels ensured she fit in with the glamorous crowd

amiliar face. But everyone seemed to know each other, their laughter and chatter a testament to their long-stan

ad suffered through an hour of hair styling and a face full of makeup. But, like a bad penny, a familiar figure caught her eye. Mr.

tion: "What was he doing here, and why hadn't he been abducted by aliens yet?" Just as his gaze began to wander in her direction, she swiftly turn

y, just to be careful." Jojo didn't need to be told twice. With a hasty goodbye to her dig

en that little rat, or was it just a petite, purse-wielding doppelganger? He couldn't

of the dreaded Mr. Perfect. She had managed to avoid him thus far, but her luck seemed to be running thin. "Why did he have

t seemed like every time she turned a corner, he was there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. But she was

sound braver than she felt. She began to walk, her eyes darting back and forth, half-expe

t sent her stumbling backward, her feet tangling beneath her. She felt herself falling, her arms flaili

d. She glared up at Mr. Perfect, who stood over her, his hands still casually tucked

hey would have rushed to her aid, grasping her hand and pulling her to her feet. But not

vement, Gerald's smirk grew wider. "Serves you right," he s

t could melt steel. "Serves you right?" she repeated, her vo

y moving. "What am I supposed to say?" he

s. "I guess the word 'sorry' is not in your dictiona

you?" he asked, his voice genuinely confused. "It's not my fault I have such

uttered, her voice laced with exasperation. "You're not even sorry t

nt. "Well, someone's got to appreciate it," he

he could have just ignored him, pretended he was a mere statue, and walked away with her di

nfusion and amusement. "I seriously don't understand what a little rat

t, are you going to fire the security for letting me in?" s

paying my money?" he asked, his deep, husky voice sending sh

y up, we'll be seeing each other at court," he

. But she refused to back down, her pride getting the better of her. "I'll pay your money

Jojo's words trailed off, her mind blanking as she struggled to find an insult. But her brain refused to cooperate,

ace. "I also don't want to keep seeing your ugly f

o the bait. "At least we have something we agree on," she

l take her leave," she said, her eyes sparkling with

watch her go. "That little..." he muttered, his words trailing o