The 50% Deal

Uncle Tony had always been a visionary man.

When his wife, Stephanie, filed for divorce, he did exactly what any man with plenty of money would do: he protected his assets. He didn't want to lose a single penny—not even the money he'd spent on countless cosmetic procedures to make her look like a high-end inflatable doll.

According to him, I had always been one of his favorite nephews. So when he approached me with an offer asking if I wanted to "own half of his fortune," I accepted immediately, without bothering to read between the lines.

I assumed he'd set up some offshore account for me. I didn't even question why it was "only" 50%.

After all, becoming a millionaire overnight is every broke young man's dream. I could already picture all the ways I'd blow that money.

The catch came immediately after I said yes.

He pulled out a flashy golden-link necklace, placed it around my neck, and, in the blink of an eye, reality changed.

I woke up in a luxurious bedroom, standing in front of a mirror, my heart pounding.

I looked down, and the shock was immediate.

I was squeezed into a skin-tight black-and-white vertically striped jumpsuit that looked like an ultra-glamorous version of a prison uniform—which made perfect sense, considering I was now the prisoner of this entire charade.

I raised my hands to my head and felt the enormous curls of artificially platinum-blonde hair.

There was no trace of my old self in the mirror.

My face had been completely sculpted by fillers. My lips were plump and covered in glossy lipstick, while my false eyelashes were so heavy I could barely blink.

And then there was gravity.

Something about it seemed completely different.

The sheer weight on my chest nearly threw me off balance inside a body with an impossibly exaggerated hourglass figure.

Around my neck gleamed the exact same necklace Uncle Tony had used to trap me in this nightmare.

That's when it finally clicked.

The 50%.

The fortune was mine—but to actually enjoy it, I had to parade around as the perfect trophy wife of my own uncle.

I stared at the bizarre yet flawless woman in the mirror and found myself facing the worst dilemma of my life.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Find a way to break the spell and go back to being a broke guy?

Or learn how to walk in high heels and accept the role of Stephanie?

Wait.

If I was Stephanie now...

And Uncle Tony had paid a fortune for this entire arrangement...

What exactly did he expect from me?

A cold shiver ran down my spine, completely at odds with the warmth of the heavy makeup covering my face.

One thing was pretending to be this platinum-blonde doll at high-society parties, sipping champagne and charging expensive shopping sprees to his credit card.

I could fake that.

I could endure his friends staring at me, force a smile with these ridiculously enhanced lips, and toss my artificial blonde hair over my shoulder.

But what happened when the lights went out?

What happened when dinner was over and we went upstairs?

Was I supposed to be his wife in every possible sense?

Like...

Everything?

The door slowly opened.

Through the mirror, I saw Uncle Tony's imposing figure step into the room.

He didn't look surprised.

He didn't look confused.

He certainly didn't look frightened.

Instead, he crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, and flashed the cynical smile of a man who knew every single detail of the trap he'd set.

"Well, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice calm but dripping with sarcasm. "How does it feel to be my new... investment?"

I swallowed hard.

My enormous lower lip, courtesy of the fillers, almost trembled, but I forced myself to maintain my composure.

His tone quickly changed.

It became colder.

Almost threatening.

"I hope you like the look, because it wasn't cheap. Now, let me ask you a very simple question. Do you really think this investment is worth it?"

He paused.

"Because, you see... if you think it's too much for you, or if you're considering backing out, that's perfectly fine. I'll terminate the contract right now."

His smile returned.

"But remember, there's always someone waiting in line. If you don't want this position and don't want to enjoy my fortune, I guarantee I'll find someone who does in the blink of an eye."

He tilted his head.

"And you?"

His voice became almost cheerful.

"Well, you can go right back to that moldy little apartment of yours with all those overdue bills."

Pure intimidation.

He was making it perfectly clear that I was replaceable.

Panic tried to take over again, but my ambitious side—the exact same side that had accepted a multimillion-dollar deal without reading the fine print—spoke much louder.

I looked around the luxurious room.

Then at my long, perfectly manicured nails.

Finally, I focused on the spectacular blonde staring back at me from the mirror.

Go back to being broke?

Not a chance.

I forced my newly sculpted facial muscles into a smile every bit as cynical as his.

Then I turned around, somehow managing to balance myself with an elegance I hadn't known I possessed while standing in those stiletto heels.

Slowly, I spread my arms, making the striped jumpsuit stretch across every carefully sculpted curve of my new body.

I looked directly into my uncle's eyes.

I held his gaze.

And then I answered in my new, soft, provocative voice:

"Well, Uncle Tony... why look for what you already have at home?"

I smiled.

"If the goal is to keep your 50% of the fortune protected, I suppose it's better to keep everything in the family."

His smile grew wider.

The game had begun.

Would you accept the deal if you knew what was hiding in the fine print?
Let me know in the comments!