Chapter 1
“Oh, my god,” said a skinny woman, her small almond-shaped eyes glimmering with jealousy, as she eyed the diamond engagement ring on her best friend, Mackenzi’s, hand. She’s done; that bitch Mackenzi had actually fooled some poor soul into proposing to her, fooling him for a relationship built on lies and honey words. “I can’t believe that idiot fell for it,” laughed the woman, tucking a few strands of her recently dyed dark red hair behind her ear. Still, she washed her hazel eyes over her friend again; she was beautiful even if most of it was plastic. Mackenzi had pink hair, most of it was a dark shade with light highlights, jewel blue eyes, a full face of botox, plump lips from fillers, the sparkly sequin top she wore looked several sizes too small as her surgically enhanced breasts were just about ready to burst from the low cut neckline. Mackenzi had an hourglass figure also; her butt, enhanced, like her breasts, the BBL last year had done wonders for her. All of it had helped snag the dumb idiot, Jovi, and fooled him into thinking Mackenzie was his dream woman.
“It’s your turn next, Mayriah,” replied Mackenzi, her voice excited as she remembered the silly high school pact she, Maryiah, and Mayriah’s twin sister, Paget, had made. They all wanted a specific lifestyle, but knew it couldn’t be achieved by anything as untrustworthy as love, so they vowed to marry rich and have a lover on the side. Someone who truly satisfied them in the area that the rich couldn’t. For Mackenzi, the wealthy husband would be Jovi Woodward, like almost all the idiots that come from money, he saw only her beauty and nothing else, a trophy he must have. Her actual lover, however, was the man who promised to make her famous, Ryder Hawthorn. He was already doing as he promised, planning movies for her to star in. He was such a sweetheart that he’d also offered the same opportunities to Paget and Mayriah, and even helped them find lovers of their own in the form of Mitchel Lancaster and Daniel Cooper.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do before I can get myself a good-looking, wealthy husband,” laughed Mayriah, looking over herself in the floor-length mirror. There was so much to correct about her appearance: her nose was too big, hooked, and had a bump on the bridge; her teeth were yellow and crooked from her years-long habit of smoking, a habit she picked up from her dad when she was twelve. Her breasts were lopsided; the left one was almost twice the size of the right. She’d gotten them checked to be on the safe side; nothing was wrong, just terrible genetics. She had nothing in the butt department, just flat, almost an extension of her back, and she was way too skinny; her doctors said she was on the verge of anoxia and had a ton of difficulties she didn’t particularly care about.
“You and me both, sister,” called Paget from across the room. By far, Paget was the luckier twin. She wasn’t skinny, had curves in all the right places, nothing was lopsided, the only things Mayriah could see wrong were the same crooked smile she had, the same hooked nose, and that god awful fashion taste. Most of the time, Paget looked like a clown, a mix of patterns and colours that clashed in an unforgivable eyesore, which was a crime against fashion. Still, Paget rocked it without shame, ignored insulting comments, and owned those weird looks. “So do your fake friends know about your engagement?” asked Paget, recalling the group of girls Mackenzi had befriended in college, girls who had a plan for their lives until the accident a few years ago. None of them had really been the same since then.
“Not yet,” responded Mackenzi, as if she suddenly remembered the other set of six girls, the ones she used to get things from; they weren’t her real friends, but they didn’t know that. If anything, Mackenzi used them to look good on nights out, visit expensive restaurants knowing they’d always cover the bill, and go on expensive vacations knowing it would be cheaper to go places when they were chipping in. Other than that, they were her playthings to pick up and put down whenever she wanted. She wasn’t interested in their lives beyond what they could do for her; she didn’t care about their personal troubles or achievements. They were her minors and she their commanding queen. “They’ll be helping with the wedding, though,” she coldly added, while pulling her pink hair from the ponytail she had it in, to restyle it ready for the impending date night with Ryder.
Mackenzi was telling the truth about using the group of girls and their partners, though. Each of them had a business or worked somewhere that would come in handy. She could easily convince them to give her a friends-and-family discount, or, better yet, give her the service free of charge as one of their wedding presents. Genevieve owned a little beachside resort, a popular place for weddings, and perfect for her wedding, she got around to planning it. Gregor, Genevieve’s partner, had recently opened his own small cake bakery and already had several wedding orders.
The OCD control freak Caroline had been proud to run her photography business. She’d recently expanded it and hired several more photographers to add more style varieties. Annie was a flourish so the flowers would come from her, just like Evie would be the one she went to for the hair and makeup, Enzo, Caroline’s partner, who somehow put up with her, was a website developer, thus he’d be perfect for making her wedding feel like the most important event of the year, if not the decade.
Echo and her partner, Finnick, would have the most important jobs of all, though. Finnick was a professional wedding planner; he had his own business and plenty of good reviews from brides he’d helped over the years. Whereas Echo was a seamstress with her own studio, she specialized in evening gowns and wedding dresses. Commission-based and never the same one twice. The people who left reviews always said the same thing. Echo poured her heart and soul into every dress, from start to finish.
“What was that film Ryder was on about?” asked Mayriah, remembering Ryder going on and on about the project he was working on, writing the screenplay at the moment, ensuring it was all perfect before he approached the actors needed for it. Ryder had written, directed, and starred in several films before; he hired his friends and their significant others as actors. And despite Mayriah thinking Ryder was a douchebag, he’d kept his promises; he split the earnings from the films with those who starred in the production, making Mackenzi a small star in the process.
“Oh, just another porno, he hasn’t got a title for it yet,” Mackenzi replied, recalling he already said it was the old/young fantasy theme. “He’s still writing the screenplay; he’ll work on the actors after,” she added, well aware she’d not be in that particular production. As much as Ryder loved filming porn and sharing it across the internet, he hated sharing her. He just about managed to control his jealousy around Jovi. He only accepted it because he’d help pick Jovi as the rich guy and got to place hidden cameras around the bedroom to film everything. “Old-young theme.”
“When he starts looking for stars, throw my name in the hat, will ya?” sequelled Paget, as she vanished into the bathroom of the shared hotel room to do her makeup. Already she had her wet hair pulled from her face by an elasticated headband, bright lavender purple that matched her hair. A smile soon graced her lips as she remembered the plans to meet up with Mitchel later on in the night, when he got away from his girlfriend, no doubt he’d use the work excuse for the non-existent job or the boys’ night out he often resorted to when he wanted to get away to rendezvous with her. How his fiancée hadn’t figured out the affair yet was beyond her; she left enough scratches down his freckled back and love bites on his neck for it to be obvious. To claim him as her own, just as he did her. “Yo, Mayriah, you meeting up with yo man later right?”
Just like Paget, Mayriah was also the other woman. This time, however, Daniel’s longtime partner wasn’t oblivious; she just ignored it as long as he went back to her. She ignored the explicit photos he sent, the erotic messages he sent, the obviously planned meetings at hotel rooms, and dates he had with Mayriah; she ignored the entire second life he had, as long as he kept it out of their shared apartment and away from her family when they visited for holidays. Tina, the woman’s name was, confronted Mayriah once, resulting in a catfight between the two, which, of course, Daniel had loved. Why wouldn’t he, when he had two women literally clawing each other in an effort to get his undivided attention? Safe to say both had been arrested that night. Mayriah had a broken nose from the brick-like purse Tina had clobbered her with, and Tina had long scratches down her face from Mayriah’s fake nails clawing down her face.
“Of course,” replied Mayriah, looking over her outfit again in the mirror. A glittery gold mini dress that just about covered everything and surprisingly fit her well, considering the store she bought it from had a reputation for their sizes being all over the place. “Remind me when we speak to dad next, to pester him about mom,” she added, remembering her and Paget’s shared journey to find who their mother was. They never knew who she was; their father had divorced her and gotten full custody when they were three months old. He only ever described her as psycho, never said her name. However, at the start of their journey last month, he’d given them the only picture of her that he kept.
She was a beautiful woman, with thick black hair that fell in bouncy curls, dark blue eyes, pale porcelain skin, a cheeky smile, and a slim frame. A natural beauty, and perfect, or at least that’s what Paget and Mayriah had thought. The trouble was, their father wasn’t reliable when it came to events. His wife, and the only mother figure they knew, Jada, was far more reliable. Explaining the entire story and events to them.
You see, their mother, Jada, couldn’t have children of her own; it devastated her as the call to be a mother was so strong. So she and their father had come up with a plan: he’d “date” someone, get her pregnant, and take their child. All in all, Jada had chosen five different women for Kevin to “date”. It just so happened that the one he’d given them the picture of was the one the pair remembered the most. More for the hell she put them through for months after finding out the truth.
“See if mom and dad found any more pictures of the other women, too,” yelled Paget in response, hearing Mackenzi chuckle at her words. Most likely, for how casually she said them, as if the whole situation was an everyday occurrence rather than a twisted plan of two people to get something they wanted. “So girlies, what do you think?” asked Paget, stepping from the brightly lit bathroom and standing in front of the large vanity mirror over the sink.
“For once, you actually don’t look that bad,” replied Mayriah, looking over the outfit Paget had chosen, a dark blue mini dress with pearl decoration, matching white 8-inch heel platform sandals, and little bits of jewelry here and there. The outfit had Mackenzi written all over it; that girl knew fashion better than anyone, especially the style that she and Paget wanted, the sexy come-get-me style that brought the wonder eyes of men firmly on them.
“Why do you have a picture of Echo’s mom?” asked Mackenzi, noticing the picture Mayriah had clipped to the bedroom mirror earlier, the woman she wanted to be like in terms of looks and overall beauty. Mackenzi recognized her instantly, mainly because of Echo Balor, one of the girls she pretended to be friends with. Echo had the same thick black hair that fell in bouncy curls, the same perfect porcelain skin, and the same face structure, although their eyes were different; Echo’s mom had alluring dark eyes full of mystery. Echo had piercing blue eyes that could haunt any enemy she cursed.
“Nah, that’s the picture our dad gave us of our potential mother,” Paget called, finding it odd that Mackenzi would think the woman in the picture was anyone but the psycho their father had proclaimed her to be. The nameless woman, she was at the moment. “Why do you think it’s your fake friends’ mom?” she asked, if only to clarify if it could be possible. If it had been, it would have meant they had a younger sister as well, though that wouldn’t sit well with her or Mayriah; they didn’t like sharing their father’s attention with the other brats he fathered. Sharing their mother’s attention would be just as bad, if not worse.
With a frustrated sigh, Mackenzie grabbed her phone and flicked through the photos of her second Instagram page, the one her fake friends followed, and Jovi, the one that made her seem like the cute girl next door that wouldn’t hurt a fly. Upon finding the right picture, she turned her phone to face Mayriah and Paget, showing them a clear shot of Echo, the girl who was a dead ringer for her mother, except for her eyes.
“That’s Echo, this picture you have is her mom, Alyssa,” Mackenzie said in a serious tone, getting up Echo’s Instagram shortly after, finding the latest picture that marked Alyssa’s anniversary, 10 years since her life had been taken by cancer. The photo was simple, just mother and daughter standing side by side, smiling widely. Echo was young in the photo, no older than ten, but still, it clearly showed Alyssa Black in all her beauty.
“We’ll talk about that in the morning over coffee,” started Mayriah, “For now, we have a long night of fun ahead of us,” she added, biting her lower lip and running her thighs together at the thought of spending a few hours clubbing with her girls and then a long night of hot fun with Daniel later. He, Ryder, and Mitchel would meet them wherever bar or club they were at when they got free from whatever they were doing. Then back to the hotel after a bit of drinking for the romantic night of steamy fun the boys have planned for them. No doubt Ryder would be celebrating Mackenzie’s engagement and reminding her who she belonged to.
