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The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend Novel Cover

The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend

I returned to New York after three years in Paris, sick and broken, with nothing but a venomous vow to reclaim my life. I looked like a total disaster in my scuffed boots and ripped jeans, a far cry from the Stanton heiress I once was. On the flight home, a glossy magazine headline hit me like a physical blow: my half-sister Aryana was celebrating a fairytale engagement while wearing my dead mother's sapphire pendant. The necklace was my only legacy, stolen by the interlopers who had usurped my place the moment I vanished. Things spiraled into a nightmare before I even landed. I accidentally spilled milk all over a powerful billionaire, Denis Stephens, and then fainted directly into his arms during turbulence. At the hospital, my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend mocked my illness, snapping photos of me looking like a "pregnant" mess to ruin my reputation. When I finally fought my way to the family manor to snatch the necklace back, my father tried to hit me, and my ex accused me of becoming a whore in Europe. I couldn't understand how my own father could freeze my bank accounts and treat me like a criminal while my sister played house with my mother's jewels. I was back in the orbit of the Manhattan elite, but I was a pariah with a target on my back and a body that was failing me. Then, the final blow came. I rear-ended a Bentley belonging to Denis Stephens-the same man I'd humiliated on the plane. With six figures in damages and zero dollars in my pocket, I was completely at his mercy. "You're going to be my date tonight," He commanded, pulling me into a high-stakes game of fake romance and cold revenge that I wasn't sure I'd survive.
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Chapter 6

Belle walked down the stairs slowly. Her energy was fading. The adrenaline crash was coming.

In the foyer, the scene had changed.

Jonas was sitting on a bench, holding a silk handkerchief to his already swelling lip. His jaw was mottled with an ugly, rapidly purpling bruise.

When Kathern saw Belle, her face twisted into a mask of pure hatred.

"You," Kathern shrieked. "Look at what you've done! You savage!"

Ewart Stanton stepped out of his study. He looked older, heavier, but his eyes were just as cold.

"Belle," he barked. "Give the necklace back to your sister. Now."

"No," Belle said. She reached the bottom step. "It's legally mine. Check the trust."

"I am the trustee!" Ewart raised his hand, stepping forward. He was going to strike her. Belle didn't flinch. She just stared at him, daring him to do it.

The heavy oak front doors swung open.

"Mr. Bryan is here!" the butler announced, his voice cracking with tension.

Ewart's hand froze in mid-air.

He lowered it slowly. He smoothed his tie. He forced a smile onto his face that looked like a rictus of pain.

"Carlton!" Kathern exclaimed, turning around and beaming as if she hadn't just been screaming. "What a wonderful surprise!"

Carlton Bryan walked in. He was flanked by two assistants carrying garment bags. He was tall, blonde, and exuded the easy confidence of someone who had never heard the word 'no'.

He stopped. He looked at Jonas, whose face was a mess, bleeding on the bench. He looked at Belle, disheveled, pale, wearing a leather jacket and a priceless sapphire necklace.

"Jonas?" Carlton asked, frowning. "What happened to your face?"

"He fell," Jonas muttered, his words slightly slurred from the injury. "Clumsy boy. And this is Belle. She... just arrived from Paris. She's a bit tired. Emotional."

She tapped her temple subtly. Crazy.

Aryana came running down the stairs. She had fixed her makeup, but her cheek was still slightly red. She threw herself at Carlton.

"Darling!" She buried her face in his chest, hiding the slap mark. "Let's go to the garden. It's so stuffy in here."

Belle watched them. She saw the way Aryana positioned her body to protect her stomach.

Belle cleared her throat.

"Wait."

The room went deadly silent. Aryana stiffened. Kathern looked like she was praying for a lightning strike to hit Belle.

Belle walked up to Carlton. She extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Carlton. I'm the sister they don't talk about."

Carlton looked down at her. He took her hand. His palm was warm. He looked at the bandage on her hand, then up to her eyes. He seemed amused.

"A pleasure, Belle. Nice necklace."

"Thanks," Belle said. She looked at Aryana. "It's a family heirloom. Right, Aryana?"

Aryana looked like she was going to faint.

"Right," Aryana squeaked.

Belle leaned in closer to Carlton, but kept her eyes on her father. "Take care of her, Carlton. She's full of... surprises."

She dropped his hand.

"Adan," she said, not looking back. "Let's go to the garage."

She walked past her father, past her ex-boyfriend, past the stepmother who hated her. She walked out the back door, leaving a wake of silence and terror behind her.

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