Posing as the Billionaire's Grandson

CHAPTER 6

Slipping away to an empty hallway, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. My clothes suddenly felt constricting, as if I had been playing dress-up in someone else's skin all night. I longed for the comfort of my own shabby, but honest, life once more.

After what felt like endless Mingling, I finally detached myself from the Auclairs, desperate to escape before I was exposed.

As I was leaving, Philippe grabbed my shoulder tightly. "Thank you again for everything tonight."

I met his gaze solemnly. "I hope you figure a way out of this situation you've created." I paused. "Paul's condition is still very delicate, even if the doctors try to sound optimistic..."

Philippe's face clouded with worry. "You're right. But I couldn't destroy the one shred of hope my father still has in me and my family. Paul has never gotten any love from the rest of them."

I sighed. "Enough excuses. I expect the agreed-upon payment in my account by tomorrow morning." 

Philippe looked taken aback by my bluntness but nodded. "Of course."

Back in my dorm room, I quickly changed out of Paul's designer suit, folding it neatly atop my desk. Despite everything, part of me would miss the glittering world of the Auclairs, if only briefly.

But as I sank onto my lumpy mattress in my normal clothes, exhaustion took over. The opulent dinner already felt like a bizarre dream. Tomorrow I'd be just another scholarship student again.

Since it was still Christmas break, I decided to visit Paul in the hospital. Entering his room, my steps faltered seeing him lying there just as still as when I'd left.

"It's time to wake up now, Paul," I said softly. Only the steady beep of the EKG replied. I wondered if deep down he was relieved to escape his miserable life for a while.

His awful family, his need to bully me to feel strong...maybe the cocky act was all a facade. A part of me even felt bad for him. But then I remembered it was trying to assault me that landed him here. 

Philippe's plan was foolish - how could he explain his son's absence once school was back in session? But saying he got hurt tormenting a poor scholarship kid would be even more embarrassing for the family, I guessed.

As I was leaving Paul's hospital room, a young woman appeared in the doorway holding a bouquet. Everything about her elegant dress and confident aura screamed money.

"Nice to see you again, Paul," she said with a sly smile. "Or wait - isn't Paul in that bed over there?" She gestured at his comatose form. "So are there two Pauls now?"

I tried to remain composed. "I'm not sure what you mean. I'm just a classmate of Paul's." I tried to slip past her but she blocked my path. 

"That's funny because I distinctly remember you from the Auclair Christmas gala," she said. "You don't recognize me? I'm Paul's cousin, Agatha Bach."

She offered her hand cheerfully. I was trapped - she knew I had impersonated Paul. No use lying now. I shook her hand weakly, palms sweating. 

"I don't care about your excuses or reasons. I just came to confirm the rumors about dear Paul were true." Her voice dripped with contempt on his name. 

I stayed silent, not wanting to provoke her further. Agatha sighed theatrically. "I always knew Paul was pathetic. But faking a coma and hiring an imposter? This is low, even for him."

I awkwardly explained Paul's accident was real and that I'd only stepped in to help. Agatha waved this off. "Please, spare me. This scheme reeks of that bratty bully. I'm thrilled to see karma catch up with him."

Her smile seemed almost gleeful. Uneasy, I glanced at the still-comatose Paul. The haughty Agatha continued maligning her injured relative as I stood by helplessly.

"You mentioned Uncle Philippe hired you to impress Grandfather with your intelligence," Agatha said, almost mockingly. 

"And it seems you played your part well - too well, I'd say." She finally placed the flower arrangement on the table by Paul's bedside.

"Look, this whole situation wasn't my idea," I said defensively. "Philippe kind of roped me into it. I didn't intend to get so involved with your family affairs."

Agatha waved a dismissive hand. "Oh please, I'm well aware of my uncle's scheming tendencies. And cousin Paul has always been a wretched bully. I'm not at all surprised by their little stunt to embarrass Raphael in front of Grandfather." 

Her flippant way of talking about her own family members was off-putting. She clearly didn't think highly of their "archaic" business practices either.

"Well, I have no plans to get further entangled with your family drama," I stated firmly, wanting no more part of this.

But Agatha simply smiled slyly. "Is that so? Because I happen to know Grandfather is planning to call Philippe soon and invite you, or should I say, Paul, to join him golfing with some corporate bigwigs."

I stared at her in disbelief. "Wait, you want me to pretend to be Paul again? No way, Philippe needs to come clean now."

"Oh come now, everyone has their price," Agatha said dismissively. "Let's start at $1,000. Or maybe $10k is more motivating?"  

I bristled at her assumption that I could be bought. "I'm not doing this anymore. Now what are you planning?"

A glint of annoyance flashed in Agatha's eyes at my defiance. But before she could respond, her phone rang. "Philippe, so lovely to hear from you..." Her mocking smile returned as she sauntered out, leaving me in frustrated confusion.

My spiraling thoughts were interrupted as a nurse suddenly entered the room, her soft shoes squeaking on the polished floor. 

"I'm afraid visiting hours are over now, dear," she said gently. "You should head on home and let him rest."

I nodded, casting one last conflicted look at Paul's motionless form in the bed before gathering my jacket. The nurse gave my shoulder a sympathetic pat before moving briskly on to her next task.

The hallway outside was now empty and dimmed, the distant hustle of the hospital muted. Unsure of my next move, I simply started walking toward the exit.

"Leaving so soon?" a lilting voice sounded behind me. I turned to see Agatha leaning casually against the wall, mischief glinting in her eyes.

"I was just heading out," I replied warily, unsure of her intentions.

She smiled. "What a coincidence, so was I. Come on, my driver will drop you home." Before I could protest, she hooked her arm through mine and steered us toward the elevators.

Outside, her sleek town car waited at the curb. The driver held the door wordlessly as we slid into the plush leather backseat. 

Agatha crossed her legs gracefully and turned to me. "So, have you reconsidered helping the poor Auclair men salvage their pride?" 

I shook my head. "I meant what I said, I'm not impersonating Paul again."

"Oh come now, where's your sense of drama?" she cajoled. "Just imagine old Auguste's face when his genius heir suddenly flubs his knowledge of the company. It would be utterly delicious chaos."  

Her smile was feline as visions of sabotage danced in her eyes. I shifted uneasily. "Messing with your own family isn't right." 

Agatha just laughed. "you're too noble for your own good." As the car purred through the city, she continued casually musing on ways to toy with her relatives, while I stayed silent.

As we drove, I was surprised when the sleek town car passed by the turnoff to my apartment complex. 

"I thought you were dropping me home?" I asked in confusion. 

"Change of plans!" Agatha declared cheerfully. "We're going shopping first."

Before I could protest, the car pulled up outside a towering luxury mall. Agatha hooked her arm in mine again and steered us inside the polished marble atrium.

I gaped at the glittering designer stores all around us, feeling utterly out of place. Agatha tilted her head, inspecting me critically.

"If you're going to keep impersonating Paul, you'll need to dress the part better," she pronounced. "Don't worry, it'll be my treat."

I shook my head quickly. "Listen, I never agreed to keep up this crazy scheme. And I certainly don't need handouts."

Agatha just laughed airily. "So humble! But you'll come around. Now come, we have lots of shopping to do."

Resigned to being dragged along, I trailed her into a sleek men's boutique. As Agatha rifled through racks of clothes, I noticed a large diamond ring glinting on her left hand. 

Despite looking so young, she was married? I noticed a large diamond ring glinting on her left hand. Her husband's identity was still unknown to me, but I wondered if his status influenced her schemes. But it wasn't my place to pry.

"No, no, too casual," Agatha tutted, holding up a designer jacket. "Paul only wears bespoke suits handmade in Italy."

I suppressed an eye roll. She seemed determined to pull me deeper into this web despite my protests. For now, I had to be patient and keep stalling her.

After what felt like endless shopping, we finally left laden with luxury bags holding a small fortune. I turned down Agatha's offer for dinner, insisting on going home. 

As the car approached my apartment complex again, I felt relief finally being dropped off. But Agatha's presence, though charming, still set me on edge. She wasn't someone I could evade easily.