Chapter 3: Playing the Perfect Substitute

He started to play with my fingers, distracted. “If you’re going to be with me, talk to me like you’re back in LA.”

In the end, he was no different from Jordan Xu—both using Mia Walker to fill the emptiness left by someone else.

“Alright,” I replied, letting my voice slip into that breezy SoCal rhythm. “Mr. Tate.”

Brendan really did like me. He was patient, indulgent, giving me everything an older man could. My presence caused a stir around him. For thirty years, his life had been spotless, his reputation untouchable. Who would’ve thought he’d end up keeping a college girl as his lover? Rumor had it he’d snatched me from Jordan Xu. Jordan was a notorious playboy, so no one was shocked. But Brendan’s move stunned everyone—even his father called, pretending not to care but clearly wanting answers.

When Brendan took the call, I was curled up in his arms, breathless from a kiss. He sounded casual, barely respectful, his fingers tangled in my hair. After he hung up, he asked, “Do you have class tomorrow afternoon?”

I thought for a second, then shook my head.

He let out a low laugh. “At my age, asking a girl I just kissed if she has class tomorrow—makes me feel like a dirty old man.”

Me: “...”

“If you’re free, come with me to a private party tomorrow.” He kissed me again. “I’ll send someone for you.”

I mumbled something, and he bit my tongue lightly, a little punishment for not paying attention. In the haze of our breathing, I thought, I really am his favorite canary.

No class in the afternoon, but I did have one early. After we fooled around that night, he grinned, “Let me teach you something new.”

The old man really did know how to play.

The next evening, my hands still sore, I couldn’t help but be amazed—Brendan acted like he hadn’t touched a woman in ages.

The club was tucked away in the city, surrounded by a peaceful garden. While searching for Brendan, I overheard him talking with a friend.

“Only twenty?” his friend laughed. “You’re robbing the cradle.”

I paused outside, not catching Brendan’s answer.

“Same age as the one from LA,” his friend went on, flicking his lighter. After a moment, he asked, “You broke off the engagement—do you regret it?”

Brendan didn’t say anything. The silence made my heart pound.

“I was the one who called it off,” he finally said. “Regret isn’t really the word.”

My heart dropped. I couldn’t tell if I was disappointed or relieved.

“Then why save her?” his friend scoffed. “Since when are you so charitable?”

Still no answer.

His friend continued, “She’s twenty, from LA, and you saved her from Jordan. Just a coincidence?”

Brendan laughed, his voice muffled—probably clamping a cigarette between his lips. “Suppose not.”

I didn’t listen any further, heading back out to the courtyard. Twenty minutes later, Brendan wrapped his arm around my waist on the terrace. “Wait long?”

I shook my head.

“Let’s go.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Let me introduce you to some people.”

Before Brendan arrived, no one at the party paid me any mind. Once he showed up, everyone turned polite, raising their glasses. I toasted each in turn, facing their curiosity and judgment head-on.

Afterward, in the car, he leaned back, eyes closed. “You don’t seem new to this kind of party.”

I paused, untying his tie. He’d seen my background—by all rights, I shouldn’t be this polished.

“Mr. Xu took me a few times,” I said smoothly. “He even hired someone to teach me the ropes.”

As the tie slipped off, I started to unbutton his shirt, but he caught my hand. The next second, he tugged hard, and I found myself straddling his lap.

“Jordan was adopted at five. Five years later, Charlotte was born,” Brendan said, his voice even. “Jordan’s had a thing for her for years.”

My fingers went numb. “Really?”

“You didn’t know?” He looked at me, half-smiling. “You picked me over Jordan because you’re afraid of Miss Xu’s payback, right?”

His eyes were beautiful, looking up at me with a hint of mischief.

“...Not entirely,” I said, glancing away. After a pause, I added, “Mainly, Mr. Xu is a little... off.”

For the first time, Brendan looked surprised. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I lied, taking a deep breath. “I once caught him whipping someone with a belt.”

“People always joke about Jordan,” Brendan said. “You know what they call him?”

I was genuinely curious. “What?”

“They say,” he grinned, “he’s Charlotte Xu’s attack dog.”

Me: “...”

Brendan rubbed my fingertips, head lowered in thought. He was always gentle and steady with me, and somehow that steadiness gave me courage.