Posing as the Billionaire's Grandson

CHAPTER 4

The steady beep of the EKG machine punctuated the stillness in Paul's hospital room. I sat slumped in the chair at his bedside, watching his chest slowly rise and fall. Nearly two days had passed since the accident that left him comatose, with no indication of when he might wake up.

The sound of the door opening made me look up as a disheveled man hurried in - Philippe Auclair, Paul's father. His bloodshot eyes were lined with worry as he moved to his son's side.

"Any change?" Philippe asked hopefully, though his expression fell as I shook my head. 

"No, he's been like this the whole time. But the doctors think he could wake up soon." I studied Philippe's worn features, sensing the weight on his shoulders.

Philippe sank into the chair next to me with a heavy sigh. As the youngest Auclair son, he was never prepared to lead the family biz. And Paul, as the baby, was even less ready to step into that world.

In the short time since we met, Philippe has word-vomited his whole life story to me. Guess he doesn't get that oversharing with a random teen you just met is weird. He's told me all about his multiple rehab stints, his bitter fights with his dad, and even how Paul's mom died when he was little. Like, dude, I do not need to know your whole sad saga here.

Makes me wonder if Philippe is kinda naive or just lonely. Either way, you'd think some man born into wealth wouldn't open up so quickly to some scholarship kid. If I was a shady dude I could use all this dirt against him.

But I don't actually care about their family drama. I'm only here out of some weird obligation since Paul's accident happened on my watch. Doesn't mean I want Philippe blabbing everything to me like we're besties spilling tea at a sleepover. So yeah, no big shocker the CEO keeps Philippe far away from the family business. This guy is a total oversharing wild card.

"The holiday gala is in two days," Philippe said heavily after a long silence. "All the family will be there, even my father." He looked at me hesitantly. "With Paul unable to attend, it will reflect poorly on me."

"What if I attended posing as Paul, just briefly?" I said sarcastically. But Philippe's eyes lit up at the crazy idea.

I remembered the photo Philippe showed me of a young Paul on vacation - some short, chubby blond kid. So the great Paul Auclair wasn't always so perfect, huh? Hard to believe that kid grew into the cocky jerk who tortures me daily. According to Philippe, Paul was an ill-tempered brat even back then. No wonder he didn't go to many family events growing up. Besides his dear old grandpa, who apparently hasn't seen Paul since elementary school, none of the Auclairs would even recognize the guy anymore. 

Philippe looked me over critically. "You do resemble Paul. And clearly, you've got more brains than my son." He smiled slowly. "Yes, this plan might just work!"

I mean, Paul and I are both skinny white dudes with dark blond hair, but that's about it. The guy won the genetic lottery from his model mother. No way I measure up in the looks department.

But I guess Paul was such a terror as a child that his relatives will believe anyone respectable-looking is him grown up. And it's not like the Auclairs keep photos of their black sheep grandson around. With the right prep, I might just pull this insane stunt off.

Still, the fact that Philippe sees any resemblance between his jerk of a son and me feels pretty insulting. Paul's no genius, but I'm sure he'd be ticked to be compared to a poor kid like me.But blood is thicker than water or whatever. And I can't blame Philippe for trying to help his screw-up son in any way he can.

And so the crazy plan came together. On Christmas Eve I met up with Philippe at the Auclair Grand, the crown jewel of their empire.

As he dressed me in Paul's designer suit, Philippe rambled on about the global Auclair company. They've got fancy resorts, hotels, and casinos all over the world - Paris, Dubai, Shanghai, and every major city across the globe. The family's elite hotels are legendary - I'm talking chandeliers, Michelin-star dining, spas, crazy amenities. 

Philippe crammed my head with facts about acquisition deals, quarterly profits, and shareholders - stuff no teen should have to know. I guess he wants me to really wow the CEO with business smarts.

Look, I'm happy to spar a little family embarrassment by playing Paul for a night. But no way can I pass as a genius MBA grad. Philippe is seriously overestimating my acting skills here.

I'm just praying I don't tank the company stock or something by accident. But Philippe is so desperate for his father's approval, I gotta at least try. With enough prep, maybe I can fool the crowd for a few minutes before sneaking out. Fingers crossed I don't accidentally start a worldwide economic crisis before dessert is served. 

"Just get through dinner and you're home free," Philippe said as he straightened my bowtie. But his eyes betrayed his anxiety, making my nerves mount.

No wonder chuckleheads like Charles and Benjamin kiss up to Paul - they think he's gonna inherit a chunk of the Auclair billions someday.  If only they knew the truth - Paul won't see a single penny. He's just the baby of the family; all the good stuff is going to his older cousins.

In reality, Paul's probably bitter that he got born too late to have any real control. But he can still terrorize us scholarship kids with impunity in the meantime.

Charles and Benjamin probably put up with Paul's crap thinking they'll be rewarded with executive positions at Auclair Resorts someday. The joke's on them! Paul will be working the front desk someday, not calling the shots.

Those two meatheads are in for a rude awakening after graduation. The Auclair name won't open doors for Paul as they expect. But for now, they'll keep kissing his boots, dreaming of handouts that will never come.

Gotta admit, part of me relishes knowing the truth about Paul's future - or lack of one - in the family business. He won't be on top forever. But I'll keep that tidbit to myself for now.

Following Philippe downstairs, I had to pause and take a steadying breath before entering the grand ballroom. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a warm glow. Extravagant bouquets adorned every surface. I had never seen such wealth on display.