One Night Mystery Affair

ver-confident Wyatt Walker-was the same man she'd spent one unforgettable night with just weeks before. She still couldn't believe he didn't recognize her. Part of her was relieved; another pa

certain: working for Wyatt Walker was going to be far more complicated than she had ever imagined. Immediately after her conversation with Riley, Ivy's phone buzzed with an urgent call from Jordan, Wyatt's manager. With a determined glint in her eye, Ivy answered, "I'm on it." Wyatt Walker needed a fake girlfriend for upcoming events, and Jordan had already secured Ivy for the role. Once the call ended, Ivy moved with a cold efficiency. She poured two glasses of wine, her hands steady as she discreetly slipped a sleeping pill into Riley's glass. Approaching her friend with a practiced smile, Ivy raised her glass. "Cheers to your new job," she said lightly, offering the drink to Riley. Riley, unsuspecting, accepted the wine. The rich aroma of red wine mingled with the quiet hum of the apartment as she sipped slowly. Within minutes, the sleeping pill began to take effect. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before long, Riley excused herself to her room. She collapsed onto her bed, drifting into an unplanned slumber. Ivy's smile faded as she glanced around the room, her mind racing. She quickly began packing a small bag with essentials-a few changes of clothes, her phone, and a set of keys. Murmuring under her breath, she whispered, "I need to get out of here before Riley wakes up." The thought of being seen by Wyatt under these circumstances was one she could not risk. With practiced stealth, Ivy slipped out of the apartment, the quiet click of the door the only sound marking her departure. As she made her way to the pickup spot arranged by Wyatt, Ivy couldn't help but reflect on the precarious balancing act she was about to perform. In a world where every encounter was a carefully orchestrated performance, one misstep could shatter everything. Tonight, Ivy was determined to remain unseen and unfettered-ready to play the role Wyatt's manager had so urgently scripted. After leaving the apartment, Ivy was waiting by a sleek, black car when a sharply dressed man greeted her. "Wyatt isn't coming," he explained casually. "He's busy-so they sent me instead." His tone was businesslike, and Ivy couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension. Just as she stepped toward the car, Ivy noticed a photographer lurking nearby. "Hey, someone's taking pictures of me," she murmured, glancing around with a mixture of annoyance and worry. The man smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Ivy. It's all part of the plan. Mr. Wyatt has arranged for his press contacts to spread the word that he's been seen with his long-term girlfriend." Ivy raised an eyebrow. "So, they're going to publish photos of me?" "No," he replied, shaking his head. "They've been instructed to blur your face f