Chapter One

Zoe

"Zoe Wayz is a determined, adventurous, badass, but you made her up. The real Zoe Wayz is basic, and nothing but a fake. And I started to think maybe I was fake too. So yeah, Mark Wanted More. I think I'll trademark that."

Those words run on a loop in my head as I give the man who looks too much like my ex-fiancé, a bleary-eyed blink. Having been up since 4 am, I am beyond travel-weary. And since this trip is actually supposed to be my honeymoon, I suppose it's only natural that my ex-fiancé haunts me a little.

"Zoe? What are you doing here?"

My jaw tightens as I realize I'm not hallucinating. My ex is standing in front of me and seeing as I'm standing in the lobby of a resort five-thousand miles from my hometown, he definitely shouldn't be.

Flattening my mouth as Mark's hand touches my elbow, I move away from his reach.

"You're not a hallucination, are you?" It's not really a question, but I'm annoyed when he ignores it and keeps talking anyway.

"I didn't think you'd come."

Of course he didn't, because I'm basic. Zoe, The Fake. And the fact that I'd been talking excitedly about coming to this resort since well before I even knew him must be fake as well.

This is supposed to be my fresh start. How can I start fresh if the person I'm trying to escape follows me?

"You didn't think I'd come?" I repeat. It's technically another question, but just like the one before, it doesn't require an answer.

My ex scratches a patch of way-too-sporadic hair on his pointy chin and I narrow my eyes.

Can chin hair look like it's trying too hard? And why does he look so awkward? I'm the one that should be uncomfortable. I didn't dump his ass in front of his family.

"Yeah, uh, I really didn't think you'd want to…" He pauses, looking around. "After everything." He shrugs, as if the motion can shake off what he did. "If I thought you were going to actually be here…"

I look at my watch. It's barely 10 am and that's too early for this shit. Hell, 10 pm would be too early for it.

"We discussed this, Mark. You got the wedding, I got the honeymoon. So the correct question is, why are you here?" My words are hushed, betraying the quickly rising alarm inside me.

My fresh start includes a meeting with the owner of this resort, who I've been emailing and video chatting with for several months to make this happen. And getting an in-person meeting with Amadeo Pellegrino is like winning the lottery, so I cannot screw it up. Or rather Mark cannot screw it up for me.

"Well, I know we agreed to that, but…" Mark's words trail off, or maybe I don't hear the rest because I'm swept away by my imagination.

My brows shoot up. Could he have come all this way to beg for forgiveness? Was he here to grovel for me to take him back?

As satisfying, and vindicating, as that would be, there is no way in hell. Not even showing up on our honeymoon in some grand gesture will get me back. That bridge didn't just burn, it exploded, incinerated to ash, and blew to another galaxy.

"I'm not taking you?—"

"Fiona's here too."

Record scratch. What?

Fiona walks up, looping her arms around Mark's waist. "This place is amaze-balls." Her eyes land on me. "Oh, Zo! You're here!"

My heart pounds, blood rushing so loudly through me, it's like the roar of a river and all I can hear. The edges of my vision are fading… blackness is closing in. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but seriously, how am I supposed to escape them when they follow me?

"I was a little worried when you didn't answer my calls. I thought maybe you'd changed your plans."

"I blocked your number for a reason, Fiona. And I've had this planned forever, long before it was going to be a honeymoon."

My sister frowns. "I know. And I'm so sorry. Can't we just forget it and be sisters again?"

I growl, looking away. "Forget it? You want me to forget how you betrayed me, stole my fiancé, and then my wedding because, ‘Why not? The deposits were already made?'"

"Don't make it sound so tawdry. We fell in love by accident."

"By accident, in the middle of a national park, in front of our family, during a trip to secure the location for our wedding ceremony," I say in a mumble under my breath.

"Neither of us meant for it to happen," Mark says, and Fiona looks up at him.

"But it's the best thing that has ever happened to us…" She takes Mark's hand. "And I need my sister's support."

I look away, angry tears burning behind my eyes. My sister, who's physically identical to me in every way, is living my life better than I could, because Mark never looked at me the way he's looking at Fiona.

"Mark had nothing to do with it. He told me not to, actually. He said you needed space, but he's never had a twin, he doesn't know how close we are." Now she looks at me. "How much we need each other."

Were. How close we were. Which was never close enough to share a fiancé, by the way.

Fiona's love-sick, moony eyes make my stomach churn, because not that long ago, I had the same look when I stared at Mark.

"You're my other half and I can't stand us fighting."

"I thought I was your other half," Mark pipes up, feigning hurt.

"No, you're my better half," Fiona soothes, rubbing her face along his side like she's part feline.

"That's too many halves, silly."

Rubbing the heel of my hand across my forehead, I try to think of something, anything, to escape them. But I can't, because I'm about to meet Amadeo Pellegrino, of The Pellegrino Group, an international luxury resort chain, that while stuck in the nineties when it comes to social media presence—think My Space—still owns six of the top ten resorts in the world.

And as if that's not enough, I'm crushing on Amadeo like I'm a tween and he's in a boy band. I frown, a thought hitting me.

"How on earth did you book this place?" My statement comes out louder than I intend, so I whisper. "It's always booked solid."

"Don't be mad, Zo. Please." Fiona catches her bottom lip between her teeth, her thick brows worrying as they knit between her eyes.

Oh shit. What did she do?

"I sent an email as you, sort of demanding The Pellegrino find us a room."

"You what?" There goes blood rushing through my arteries like a kayak in the Colorado river. "How the hell did you do that?"

She shrugs. "We're identical, Zoe. My face opens your phone as easily as your own."

"I'm innocent. I told her she shouldn't." Mark holds up his hands as if it's some joke that I'm unstable and likely to freak out. When I've been so stable over all this shit, Mother Teresa would be proud.

Zoe Wayz? started as a project for my digital marketing class when I was nineteen years old. It was one of those projects worth eighty percent of your grade, and I was aiming for the dean's list, so I wanted to go above and beyond.

Since my generation was more into experiences than things, vacations over Viché, so to speak, I'd started Zoe Wayz Adventures.

All of my classmates used existing businesses, but I'd wanted to model how the strategies we'd learned in class could grow something from nothing. I thought if nothing else, it might make a great portfolio project to show future employers.

And because as a kid I'd spent hours reading true stories about other people's adventures, wanting to do those things myself when I grew up, I already had a good knowledge base, even if I was terrified to actually do those things as an adult.

Somehow, while earning an A plus and successfully getting on the dean's list that year, my socials grew an audience over two hundred thousand. And I'd never even had one real adventure. They were all fake, written from memories of other's stories.

That's why Mark's words hurt so badly. They were true. I was basic. Zoe Wayz, The Fake.

After earning my degree, the brand kept growing and I knew if I wanted to see where it could go, I needed to start having real adventures of my own. Especially when I started getting offers for all-expense-paid trips and paid sponsorships.

But there was a problem. Every time I tried to do something with the same level of adventurousness, I froze. And I couldn't go from skydiving to skiing bunny hills. In a moment of brilliance, I started a series on my Youtube channel called Weekend Adventuring for Beginners.

I figured I might lose some followers, but I'd save face while working my way to bigger adventures gradually. And as it turned out, there were a lot more armchair adventurers who wanted to get out there but didn't know how or where to start than I thought.

The buzz was so huge over the upcoming series Hella Life magazine emailed me asking for an interview. I agreed, and hoped they wouldn't ask me too much about my former adventures.

When the interview crew came to my place, the videographer turned out to be one of Fiona's old friends from high school.

Mark stayed back after the interview and after reminiscing for a bit, he asked me out. I always thought he had a crush on Fiona in high school, and rightly so, since they were both part of the popular crowd, but before I knew it, we were in the middle of a whirlwind romance.

My followers grew even more, as did the offers for all-expenses-paid trips, these ones geared for couples because almost every video I made with the two of us went viral.

Then, three months after we started dating, I left on a trip to Canada's longest suspension bridge where I planned to do Ontario's longest, fastest, and highest zipline as well. Mark couldn't come as he had a trip of his own for the magazine.

The zipline was the scariest thing I'd done since I started adventuring for real. My eyes were shut for more than half of it, but the rush I felt once I was untethered and safely back on two feet, was amazing.

The walk across the suspension bridge afterward was boring in comparison, at least until I saw Mark waiting on the other side—on one knee.

I remember standing there, the bridge a little unsteady beneath me, thinking, this is soon, way too soon. But I was filled with endorphins and coming down from my adrenaline high, and there was a camera crew behind him, a stunning backdrop, and a huge ring.

My second thought after, this is too soon, was, how embarrassed he'd be if I said no.

And my final thought, however fleeting, was that if I embarrassed him, I was going to look like an asshole in front of the world.

So I said yes. For all the wrong reasons.

Zoe Wayz Adventures exploded yet again. And the whirlwind continued, this time including wedding planning.

And everyone wanted to know how the great adventurer, Zoe Wayz was going to tie the knot.

Before I knew it, I had over twelve million subscribers on my Youtube channel and the pressure was higher than ever.

But six months before the wedding, it was like I was standing on that damn suspension bridge again, only this time, it fell… because I caught Mark and my sister together. And that's when I knew his crush on her had never ended and that I should have known better.

The memories pop like a bubble when my sister clears her throat.

"I actually linked that TikTok video you made of your bucket list travel plans that included both The Pellegrino and their biggest competitor, highlighting that it went viral." She swallows hard. "I know it was wrong?—"

"Wrong?" I force out an angry breath. "Wrong was screwing my fiancé in Sleeping Giant National park, while I finalized the ceremony plans for our wedding." I take a pull of the humid oxygen-rich air.

"Wrong was getting caught bent over a pile of rocks with your ass on display, my fiancé going pound town on you, by Pastor Miccah and Great-Granny Agnes," I growl in frustration. "But using my livelihood to score yourself a spot here, where I'm trying to start fresh is heinous, Fiona." I don't mention the friendship I'd started with Amadeo Pellegrino, that had become a beacon of light in my otherwise dark personal life.

"Lower your voice," Mark scolds in a hushed tone.

I check myself, not because he told me to, but because I am a fairly famous influencer and this is not the time or the place to freak the fuck out on my twin and ex-fiancé.

"When did you do this?" I yank my phone out of my pocket and start scrolling through my emails. I hadn't spoken to Amadeo in three weeks, which was unusual since we'd spoken at least once a week until then.

"I deleted it." She closes her eyes.

I growl, but tears burn behind my lids. Can this so-called sister of mine ruin my life any more?

"I can't deal with this right now. I'm going to check in. I'm meeting the owner of this resort in a few hours and I've got to figure out how I'm going to explain that I basically blackmailed him into giving you your honeymoon."

I spin on my foot to leave, but a hand clasps on my upper arm stopping me.

"Here's the thing, Zo, when we booked, it went under Mr. and Mrs. Mark Hallman and uh…"

"They put you in my suite." My shoulders slump. Because that's what I originally booked it under.

"I have to pee, be back in a sec." My sister rushes off, likely to avoid my wrath. I gather a breath, wishing a gigantic tremor would open the beautiful Italian marble floor and swallow me.

"She had good intentions, Zoe."

I look up at Mark and press my lips. At one point, for whatever reason, I said yes to marrying this man, but right now all I want to do is strangle him.

"You know I didn't mean for this to happen, right?"

Ugh. I want to say, I think you did. I think you used me to get close to Fiona again. Instead, I say, "Mark, does apologizing make you feel better?" Eyeing him with a strength I don't feel, I add, "Because it doesn't do shit for me."

"I'll go see about the other room," he mumbles, and shuffles away like a forlorn child.

How did my dream vacation-slash-fresh start morph into my own personal hell? And what atrocious karmic fuckup did I commit to deserve it?

"Ms. Wayz?" I look up and see Amadeo Pellegrino, hands on hips in front of me. He's tall, with impossibly wide shoulders, dark hair, and blue eyes so light it's like looking into the Caribbean sea. His lips, though very kissable, are currently pressed firmly into a disapproving frown. My stomach drops.

I stand, floundering for words. Luckily, he's not expecting any.

"Follow me." He doesn't extend a hand or even check to see that I'm following. He just leads the way.

I scoop up my carry-on, toss my handbag over my rolling luggage and follow like an obedient little puppy.