Mr CEO: His Replica Bride

Jessica Smith was a beautiful, white Caucasian lady with blonde hair.

She's 23 years old, and her hazel eyes, pink lips, slender neck, and lovely figure made her very attractive, often drawing unsolicited attention from men. Life, however, had dealt her a series of cruel blows.

First, she lost her parents at just five years old. She still had nightmares about that night-the night assassins burst into their home, beat her father mercilessly, and shot him in the head despite his desperate pleas.

"Please, not in front of my family-please!" he had begged.

They didn't listen.

Her mother was next. Jessica had watched from a hidden spot, exactly where her mother had instructed her to stay silent no matter what. That command saved her life.

Even now, nearly twenty years later, the image still haunted her dreams-especially the scarred cheek of the man who had seemed to be the leader, and the tattoo of an arrow etched on his neck.

When her grandmother came to get her, Jessica had tried to explain everything.

"You can't talk about it, sweetheart," the old woman had said gently. "You're just a child. Your testimony won't hold up, and if they find out you survived and can identify them..."

She didn't finish. She didn't need to.

Jessica's grandmother knew her son had been murdered for his wealth. When she discovered his company was suddenly being taken over by his business partners under shady claims of debt mismanagement, she didn't fight. She knew they were lying. Her son never borrowed money. If he didn't have enough to do something, he believed it simply wasn't time.

As for mismanagement?

"He was the most disciplined man I knew," she once told Jessica. "Those vultures just wanted his empire."

When her private investigations attracted scandal and threats, she stopped. Quietly, she pulled together her savings and poured them into Jessica's education.

Then came the call from the insurance company.

"Your son set up a trust fund for Jessica's education," the representative had said.

Her heart broke at the reminder of her son's murder, but she was proud. Proud that even in death, he had provided for his daughter.

They used the money wisely. And as the years passed, Jessica and her grandmother became less like grandmother and granddaughter, and more like sisters.

Jessica grew into a stunning young woman. She was the spitting image of her mother, though she had inherited her father's eyes.

Academically, she excelled. No surprise there. Both her parents had been brilliant-top of their fields.

But things changed after graduation.

Jessica couldn't find a job.

Then her grandmother collapsed one morning.

"No! No, please wake up!" she had cried, struggling to drag the older woman to the bed. Then she called the neighbor for help.

Four agonizing hours and a battery of tests later, the doctor delivered the news.

"She has kidney failure. She needs a transplant. Immediately. The treatment will cost around five hundred thousand dollars."

And that was the beginning of Jessica's desperation.

She took any job she could find-cleaning, babysitting, laundry, deliveries. But no matter how hard she worked, she couldn't even raise two hundred dollars. Every cent went into food and her grandmother's medication.

That evening, she stood by the roadside, staring at the crumpled notes she had earned that day.

"Not even two hundred," she murmured, her voice hollow.

She kept walking, eyes scanning the street ahead, until a bright sign caught her attention.

"Pizza courier/boy needed urgently."

Her eyes lit up. She didn't think twice before dashing across the road toward the pizza shop.

She paused at the entrance of the shop-Pizza Hut-took a deep breath, and whispered a silent prayer.

Then she stepped inside.

A woman stood behind the counter-likely the manager.

"Good day, ma'am," Jessica began nervously. "I saw the vacancy notice outside. You need a pizza delivery person, and I'd like to apply for the job."

The woman looked her over, her gaze cautious.

"Do you have a bike?" she asked.

Jessica leaned forward. "Yes ma, I do. It's parked just outside." She pointed through the glass at the pink bike.

The woman glanced at it and shrugged.

"Alright. The job is still open. But I'll be honest with you-it's demanding. Some customers live quite far. Are you sure you're up to it? And... I hope you don't plan on running off with our pizzas?"

Jessica's eyes widened. "No ma! I promise. I'm ready to work, and nothing will happen to your pizzas."

The woman nodded. "Okay then. You came at the right time. We have a pizza order that needs to be delivered now." She handed Jessica a slip of paper. "Get changed quickly and head to this address. Let's see what you can do."

Jessica looked down at the address. Her eyes widened.

This was a location in the highbrow part of the city-mansions, marble gates, and billionaires.

She chuckled to herself.

"Well, I may not be rich, but at least I get to see how the rich live," she whispered.

She remembered her grandmother once told her they used to be wealthy.

"I believe her," Jessica often said to herself. "I remember the teddy bears. A whole room full of them. And those bedtime kisses..."

She pushed the memories away and hurried to change into her new uniform. Her boss had directed her to the changing room. She dressed quickly and jumped onto her bike.

As she rode out, she sang softly, the wind brushing over her cheeks.

"Good thing I wore my helmet," she muttered. "Or my hair would be a disaster."

She arrived at the estate shortly after. The security man at the gate eyed her suspiciously.

"Who are you here to see?"

"I have a pizza delivery for Mr...." She showed him the slip.

He picked up a radio. "Sir, are you expecting a delivery?"

Pause.

"Yes? Alright."

He nodded. "He confirmed it. Go on in."

He handed back the slip. "That's house number eight. Straight down, then take a right."

She was about to drive off when he called again.

"Hey, wait! You didn't leave your number."

Jessica blinked.

"My number?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Just in case someone wants more than pizza next time."

Chapter ends the same here.