Chapter 1

After discovering my boyfriend was cheating online, I created nine fake profiles to date him—as different women.

My best friend was furious. "Girl, you're such a sucker for love. You're hopeless."

But when Valentine's Day came and ten gifts arrived, she gave me a thumbs-up. "Never mind—you're not love-crazy; you're business-minded."

*****

On Valentine's Day, Chloe Evans, my best friend, and I hauled ten packages back from the mailroom.

Opening the first one addressed to me, I found a lipstick set.

Chloe shoved her phone in my face, saying disdainfully, "See? In Ryan's eyes, you're only worth a hundred bucks."

I just smiled and kept opening the rest.

My best friend was furious. "Girl, you're such a sucker for love. You're hopeless."

Opening the second one, Chloe's eyes widened, "Ooh, who sent this one? They've got good taste."

I stayed quiet and kept unboxing.

After opening them all, a Chanel bag, a Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet, a Cartier ring, and some blindingly shiny gold jewelry were laid out in a row on the floor.

Chloe's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Ryan sent all this?"

*****

Ryan Carter is my boyfriend.

We met online and then in real life. His family runs a business; he's a bona fide rich kid.

Initially, I was attracted to his money. And he, well, seemed to be won over by my voice.

Before we even met, I casually mentioned my phone battery was dying, and Ryan sent me the latest iPhone.

My laptop got wrecked by my cat, and the next day, a new MacBook arrived from Ryan.

Later, caught up in the romance, when Ryan suggested meeting up, he flew overnight to my city and bought an apartment.

We moved in together immediately, and soon after, persuaded by Ryan, I quit my job.

He gave me a monthly allowance of ten thousand dollars, plus random romantic surprises.

I was living a life I never dared to dream of.

Shoes that cost $10 and lasted a year were replaced by thousand-dollar AJs. I used La Mer cream on my feet without a second thought. Wouldn't even glance at a bag under three thousand.

I was dripping in gold and jewels, looking absolutely luxurious.

My friends were all green with envy, saying I was living a fairytale romance.

After all, Ryan was genuinely rich, handsome, and had a six-pack.

But six months into the relationship, I found out he was flirting with other girls online.

I cried on Chloe's shoulder for three hours. She tried everything to convince me to break up with him, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

No one in their right mind would willingly give up all that money.

The next day, I registered nine alternate accounts, pretending to be different girls: a spicy girl from Texas who loves weird food, a sweet anime-style kawaii girl who collects figurines and Lolita dresses, a sophisticated, well-traveled beauty, a struggling D-list actress...

Chloe scolded me, saying I had no self-respect, but I ignored her and added Ryan to all these accounts.

Pretending I knew nothing, I went back to Ryan's place. He told me his mom was sick and he needed to go back to his hometown for a while.

I nodded understandingly and even said I'd prepare some gifts for his mom.

Ryan was so touched that he immediately transferred thirty thousand dollars to my bank account.

He said guiltily, "While I'm gone, buy whatever you want."

I had to mentally list every sad thing that ever happened to me to keep from laughing out loud.

Thirty thousand dollars! Good grief, a few more rounds like this and I could buy my own apartment.

After Ryan left, I seamlessly switched between all nine accounts to chat with him. I even diligently kept notes—which persona said what, what delivery addresses I used—everything meticulously recorded to avoid slipping up.

Thankfully, my acting skills are top-notch, and I type fast. It was just a bit hectic right before Valentine's Day.

I was typing so fast my keyboard nearly sparked, but I finally sweet-talked Ryan into sending ten different gifts.

Too many? Nah, just well-earned commission.

Chloe gave me a thumbs-up, "You'll always be my queen."

*****

Ten phones, each labeled with a number, were lined up in front of me. Using the hot girl persona with a fake accent and a voice changer, I sent Ryan a voice message: "Got the gift, sugar. When ya comin' to try those funky foods with me?"

Then, as the sophisticated beauty, I typed a message: [Received the gift. It's acceptable. Though I anticipate your next surprise will be more... impressive.]

Next, I picked up the anime kawaii girl's phone. "Thank you, for the pretty dress and the figurine!"

Chloe watched my performance, jaw dropped, muttering, "Holy crap!"

She asked me what I planned to do with all the gifts.

I kept the lipstick set and sold everything else online.

The sound of payment notifications chimed one after another. I checked my balance—almost $120,000.

Just a little more of this 'hardship,' and I'd be able to buy my own place.

I was over the moon when I got a text from Ryan saying he was coming back.

No way. I couldn't be around him, or how could I keep up this charade?

So, I booked last-minute flights for Chloe and me to another country. I sent him a sweet voice message, "I'm so sorry, baby! My friend's going through a nasty breakup, so I'm accompanying her on a trip to cheer her up."

Ryan replied, "Should I come join you? I can carry your bags and pay for everything."

Of course, I had to refuse him.

I patiently replied, "Probably not a good idea, honey. She's really heartbroken right now. Seeing us so happy and in love might make her feel worse. Let's not rub it in."

After some back and forth, Ryan finally dropped the idea. He then transferred another $30,000, saying, "Have a great time, baby. I heard your favorite singer is performing there. I contacted a friend and got you two tickets."

If it weren't for the chorus of notification sounds from my nine other phones, I might have actually believed this jerk loved me.

Even while having a blast in that country for a week, I didn't forget my 'customer service' duties, replying to Ryan across all accounts.

Thankfully, he couldn't see IP addresses on the app we used, or he'd probably have flown over to hold a team meeting with all my personas.

The day we flew back, Ryan picked me up in his newly bought luxury car.

I discreetly pinched Chloe a few times until she finally started crying on cue.

Yep, she looked convincingly like a woman drowning in post-breakup misery.

In the car, I pretended my phone was dead and used Ryan's phone to navigate to Chloe's place, taking the chance to scroll through his messages.

Good. He'd deleted the chat histories with all nine of my alternate accounts.