Updated Oct 27, 2025 • ~13 min read
Natalie told herself she wasn’t looking for it.
She was just organizing Scarlett’s closet—making space for the dress she’d need for the meeting with Julian tomorrow. That’s all. Perfectly innocent.
The journal fell out when she moved a stack of shoeboxes on the top shelf.
Leather-bound, expensive like everything else Scarlett owned, with her sister’s initials embossed in gold. It hit the floor with a thud that sounded like an accusation.
Natalie stared at it.
She’d already violated so many boundaries. Read Scarlett’s emails, pretended to be her, kissed her fiancé. What was one more betrayal on top of the mountain she’d already built?
Besides, maybe there were answers in there. Something that would help her understand what Scarlett had gotten them into. Something that would help her fix this mess before Monday.
That’s what she told herself as she picked it up. As she sat on the closet floor. As she opened to the first page.
January 3rd
Met Grant Stone tonight at the gallery opening. Old money, new ambition—exactly what I need. He looked at me like I was art, and for the first time in months, I felt like maybe I could pull this off. If I can get him to fall for me, really fall for me, all my problems disappear. He’s the solution I’ve been looking for.
Natalie’s stomach turned.
Solution. Not love. Not connection. Solution.
She flipped forward, hands trembling.
February 14th
Grant took me to Marcello’s. Proposed a toast to getting to know each other better. He’s so earnest it’s almost painful. Talks about building something real, something lasting. I smiled and nodded and said all the right things. He has no idea I’m drowning. No idea that every time he touches me, all I can think about is the collection calls I’m ignoring.
He’s perfect. Stable. Rich. Everything I need.
Everything I don’t deserve.
But I’m too desperate to care.
The pages blurred. Natalie blinked hard, forcing herself to keep reading.
March 22nd
He proposed tonight. Down on one knee at the river, the whole romantic production. The ring must have cost six months of his salary. I said yes and I cried, and he thought they were happy tears.
They weren’t.
I felt like I was sealing both our fates. But what choice do I have? Julian’s people are getting more aggressive. The credit cards are maxed. I’m running out of time and options.
Grant deserves better than this. Better than me.
But I can’t tell him the truth. If he knew what I really am—what I’ve done—he’d run. They all run eventually.
Natalie’s hands were shaking so hard she almost dropped the journal. This was worse than she’d imagined. Scarlett had never loved Grant. Had seen him as nothing more than a bank account with a heartbeat.
And Grant had no idea.
She flipped forward again, skipping through entries about wedding planning that read more like battle strategy than celebration. Then—
May 8th
I brought Natalie to brunch with Grant today. I told myself it was because I wanted them to get along, but that’s a lie. I wanted to see them together. Wanted to watch Grant interact with someone real.
He was kind to her. Patient. He asked her about her painting, actually listened when she talked about color theory and light. He smiled at her the way he used to smile at me, before I started getting phone calls in the middle of dinner that I have to take in the bathroom.
They’d be good together. Better than Grant and me.
But I need him more than she does. I always need more.
The entry ended there. Natalie stared at the words until they stopped making sense.
Scarlett had known. Had seen the potential for something between Natalie and Grant, and hadn’t cared. Because her own survival mattered more.
I always need more.
True. Scarlett had always taken more—more love, more attention, more chances. And Natalie had always given them, playing the role of the selfless twin, the one who sacrificed.
But this time, Scarlett had asked for too much.
Natalie flipped to the most recent entries.
October 15th
Julian came to the penthouse today. Grant was at work. Julian let himself in—apparently he has keys to half the buildings in the city. He sat on our couch and told me my time was up. Said he’d been patient, but patience only stretches so far.
He knows about Grant. Knows about the wedding. Knows exactly how much my fiancé is worth.
He gave me two options: pay him back, or he goes to Grant with everything. Every lie, every debt, every desperate thing I’ve done to stay afloat.
I can’t let that happen. Grant can’t know. Not yet. Not until after the wedding, when his money becomes my money and I can pay everyone off and finally breathe again.
I know it’s wrong. I know it makes me a terrible person.
But I’m too far gone to stop now.
November 1st
Called Natalie today. Told her I needed her to cover for me for a week. She hesitated—she always hesitates—but she said yes. She always says yes.
I hate myself for asking. Hate myself for what I’m about to do to her.
But I’m running out of choices. Julian’s getting more aggressive. The threatening notes. The photos of me at the gym, at the grocery store. He’s making it clear he can get to me anywhere.
I need to disappear until I figure out how to fix this. And I need someone to keep Grant occupied so he doesn’t come looking for me.
Natalie’s the only person I trust. The only person who’s never let me down.
I’m about to ruin her life, and she doesn’t even know it yet.
I’m sorry, Nat. I’m so sorry.
The final entry was from four days ago—the day Natalie had arrived at the penthouse to start pretending.
Natalie closed the journal and sat in the silence of her sister’s closet, surrounded by expensive things bought with borrowed money.
Scarlett had known exactly what she was doing. Had calculated every move. Had seen Natalie not as a sister but as a tool, a convenient placeholder to buy herself time.
And Grant. God, Grant had been nothing but genuine. Had fallen for a woman who’d never existed, who’d seen him as nothing more than a solution to problems he didn’t even know about.
The anger that flooded through Natalie was different from anything she’d felt before. Not the quick flash of irritation when Scarlett borrowed clothes without asking. Not the dull resentment of being second choice.
This was rage. Pure and clean and liberating.
Her phone buzzed. Grant: Leaving the office early. Picking up dinner. Thai okay?
Simple. Domestic. The kind of text you send someone you trust, someone you’re building a life with.
Someone who wasn’t lying to you about everything.
Natalie’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. She could tell him. Right now. Text him the truth, let the pieces fall where they would.
But Julian’s threat echoed in her mind. Come alone, or Grant finds out everything.
If she told Grant now, Julian would make good on whatever “everything” meant. And “everything” probably included not just Scarlett’s debts, but the criminal connections, the threats, the danger that Natalie was only beginning to understand.
Grant didn’t deserve to be pulled into that. Not when she could still protect him.
She typed back: Thai sounds perfect. See you soon.
Then she called the only person who might actually help her.
Her best friend Juliette picked up on the second ring. “Nat? What’s wrong? You sound weird.”
“I need you to look something up for me.” Natalie kept her voice low, even though she was alone in the apartment. “Julian Rivers. I need to know everything about him. Business dealings, criminal connections, everything.”
“Why are you asking about Julian Rivers?” Juliette’s voice sharpened. She was a legal assistant at one of the big firms downtown—if anyone knew the city’s underbelly, it was her. “Natalie, tell me you’re not involved with him.”
“Not me. Scarlett.”
A long pause. “Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“How bad?”
“Fifty thousand, at least. Plus over a hundred grand in credit card debt. And he’s made it clear he’s not asking nicely for repayment.”
Juliette whistled. “Julian Rivers doesn’t just loan money, Nat. He owns people. He’s connected to every major organized crime family in the city, but he’s smart enough to keep himself legally clean. Nothing sticks to him.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Please tell me you’re not thinking of meeting with him.”
Natalie’s silence was answer enough.
“Natalie, no. Absolutely not. People who go to meetings with Julian Rivers don’t always walk back out.”
“I don’t have a choice. He wants to meet tomorrow. If I don’t show up, he goes to Grant.”
“Grant?” Confusion colored Juliette’s voice. “Wait. Are you still pretending to be Scarlett?”
Natalie had told Juliette about the twin swap three days ago, sworn her to secrecy. Her friend had called her insane but hadn’t tried to stop her.
“It’s complicated,” Natalie said.
“It’s about to get someone hurt.” Juliette’s voice was fierce. “This isn’t a game anymore. Julian Rivers is dangerous. If Scarlett owes him money, she needs to be the one dealing with him, not you.”
“Scarlett’s gone. She won’t tell me where she is.”
“Then let her deal with the consequences when she comes back. This isn’t your responsibility.”
“But Grant—”
“Grant is a grown man who got engaged to the wrong woman,” Juliette cut her off. “That’s not your fault.”
“It will be if Julian destroys him because I didn’t show up to that meeting.”
Another pause. Then, quieter: “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
Natalie closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I’m feeling. I’m not the one he chose.”
“Maybe he chose wrong.”
The words hung in the air like a possibility Natalie didn’t dare reach for.
“I have to go,” Natalie said. “Grant will be here soon.”
“Be careful,” Juliette said. “And Nat? Whatever you’re feeling for him—it matters. Don’t let Scarlett convince you it doesn’t.”
After she hung up, Natalie hid the journal back in the closet, buried it under shoeboxes where it belonged.
But the words stayed with her. They’d be good together. Better than Grant and me.
Even Scarlett had seen it.
The front door opened. “Scarlett? I’m home!”
Natalie took a breath, pasted on a smile, and went to greet the man who thought he knew her.
Grant stood in the kitchen, unpacking containers of Thai food, looking unfairly attractive in his rolled-up shirtsleeves. When he saw her, his whole face lit up.
“There she is.” He crossed the room and kissed her—soft and sweet and full of promise. “Rough day?”
If he only knew.
“Just tired,” Natalie said, the lie smooth as silk now. “This week has been a lot.”
“I know. But hey—” He pulled her closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “After the merger closes, things calm down. We can take that honeymoon we’ve been planning. Two weeks in Santorini, just us. No work, no obligations.”
Honeymoon. Right. The honeymoon he’d be taking with Scarlett, after she returned and Natalie disappeared back into her real life.
The thought made something inside her chest crack.
“That sounds perfect,” she managed.
They ate dinner on the couch, some cooking show playing in the background. Grant kept stealing glances at her, smiling when he caught her eye.
“What?” Natalie asked.
“Nothing. Just—you seem different lately. In a good way.” He set down his fork. “More present. Like you’re actually here with me instead of somewhere else in your head.”
Because she was here. Really here. Not thinking about her next social media post or whatever Scarlett usually thought about. Just being with him, in this moment, even if it was borrowed time.
“I want to be here,” Natalie said softly. “With you.”
Grant’s expression shifted—something vulnerable and raw crossing his features. “I’m glad. Because lately, I’ve been feeling like maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”
Natalie’s heart stopped. “What do you mean?”
“I mean—” He set down his plate, turning to face her fully. “When we got engaged, I thought I knew what I wanted. Someone who fit into my life easily. Someone who didn’t ask too many questions or demand too much attention. Someone safe.”
Each word was a knife.
“But these past few days,” Grant continued, “you’ve been asking questions. You’ve been present. You’ve been—” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “You’ve been making me realize that maybe safe isn’t what I actually want.”
“What do you want?” Natalie whispered.
Grant reached out, cupping her face in his hand. His thumb traced her cheekbone, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“I want this,” he said. “Whatever this is. You, right now, exactly as you are in this moment. Not the version of you at parties or with my family. This version. The one who looks at me like I’m the only person in the world.”
Natalie couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could only feel the weight of his words, the impossibility of what he was offering.
He was falling for her. The real her. Not Scarlett.
And that made everything so much worse.
“Grant—” she started, not knowing how to finish.
His phone rang.
They both froze. Grant glanced at it, groaned. “It’s Dominic. I’m sorry, I have to—”
“Take it,” Natalie said, relief and disappointment warring in her chest.
Grant answered, already moving toward his office. “Hey. Yeah, I saw your email. Let me pull up the files—”
Natalie sat alone on the couch, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Tomorrow she’d meet Julian. Tomorrow she’d figure out how to protect Grant from Scarlett’s mistakes. Tomorrow she’d deal with the consequences of every lie she’d told.
But tonight, for just a few more hours, she let herself pretend.
Pretend that this was her life. That Grant was hers. That the words he’d said—I want this, I want you—were meant for Natalie and not for the ghost of her sister.
When Grant returned twenty minutes later, apologizing for the interruption, Natalie pulled him close and kissed him like it might be the last time.
Because it probably would be.
And if this was all she’d ever have of him—borrowed moments and stolen feelings—then she was going to hold onto it for as long as she could.
Even if it destroyed her in the end.
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