Fangs And Fakery

“We basically look the same—this will only take two weeks, max!” When 23-year-old Sage Arden agrees to attend a final interview at one of the top tech companies, pretending to be her twin brother Rowan after a sudden accident, she thinks it’ll be quick and...

Chapter 1 The Wrong Suit

Sage

They say twins are connected. I say they’re trouble. Especially when one of them talks you into identity fraud before lunch.

“Rowan, I’m not doing this. No. Absolutely not,” I said, already halfway into his stupid gray suit.

My twin groaned from the couch, ice pack on his ankle like it owed him money. “You already have the pants on. You can’t back out now.”

“You got hit by a truck !” I snapped. “You should be at the hospital, not recruiting your unqualified sister to play corporate dress-up.”

“I limped into the apartment. That counts for something.”

“Your job interview is in an hour!”

“That’s why I need you!” he whined. “Sage, come on. I’ve worked for this opportunity for months. All you have to do is show up, say smart-sounding things, shake some hands, and get out alive.”

“And if they ask me something complicated?” I arched a brow. “Like, I don’t know, ‘What’s your stance on quantum-encrypted server redundancy?’”

He waved a hand. “Just say something vague about data security and ethics. They eat that up.”

I gave him a look. “You realize I have no tech background, right?”

“You’ve fixed my laptop twice.”

“By turning it off and on again.”

“You’re charming. You’re quick. And you look like me,” he said, pointing between our faces. “You’ve pulled off worse in college. Remember Halloween?”

“Yeah, and I got chased by three different guys who thought I was a boyband member.”

“Exactly! Believable.”

I groaned. “This is so illegal.”

“Not technically. It's not like you're applying for the job. Just... holding the spot.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

He smirked. “And you’re the best sister ever.”

That line did it.

That, and the stupid way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Rowan was always the charming one , the softer twin, the one teachers adored and old ladies gave extra candy. And now, with a busted ankle and crushed pride, he was asking me to step up. For him.

I caved.

“Fine,” I muttered. “But if I get arrested, you’re coming to jail with me.”

—

The suit almost fit. The binder was tight, the boxers were padded, and the wig from last Halloween actually looked better than expected after some dry shampoo and prayer. I added a little contour to dull my cheekbones and some tape on my jawline to square it out.

I stared at my reflection. Rowan, if Rowan had skipped sleep for three days and taken up chain-smoking.

“Hi,” I practiced in a lower voice. “I’m Rowan Arden, cybersecurity enthusiast. I love long walks on the cloud and encrypting… uh, feelings.”

“God, I’m gonna die.”

But I grabbed Rowan’s bag and left anyway.

—

The building was a slab of glass and steel in midtown, the kind of place that made you feel like an underachiever the second you walked in.

I stepped through the doors, swallowed by crisp air-conditioning and the scent of expensive furniture.

The receptionist gave me a polite smile. “Name?”

“Sage—” I coughed. “Rowan Arden. Interview at ten.”

She typed something on her sleek little keyboard, then nodded. “You’re on the list. Have a seat, Mr. Arden. Someone will escort you shortly.”

I nodded stiffly and sat down, trying not to squirm.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Just enough time for me to start questioning every life choice that led me here. I had no resume in my name. No clue what this company actually did. And my voice was already starting to crack from all the fake deep talking.

I was about to bolt when a man in a dark suit stepped into the lobby.

“Mr. Arden?”

I stood quickly. “Yes. That’s me.”

“This way.”

He led me to the elevators, silent and intense. He didn’t blink once. What was it with corporate security guys and their allergic reaction to blinking?

We rode in silence to the top floor. My heart thumped like a drumline the whole way up.

The elevator doors opened into a hallway so pristine it felt like it had never seen human footprints.

He gestured to a pair of massive glass doors.

“In there,” he said.

I nodded, adjusted my tie (which was slowly killing me), and walked through.

—

The office was a minimalist’s wet dream. Sleek furniture, dark tones, walls of windows overlooking the skyline. A giant desk sat at the far end, and behind it, a man was scribbling on some document without looking up.

“Mr. Arden,” he said, voice cool and crisp like pressed linen.

I took a few steps closer. “Yes. Uh, hi.”

He didn’t respond. Just finished what he was writing and finally looked up.

And damn.

I wasn’t expecting him to be so… sharp. That was the word. Sharp cheekbones. Sharp jawline. Even his suit looked like it had been cut with a scalpel. His hair was dark and neatly styled, and his eyes, gray, stormy, unreadable locked on to mine.

“Sit.”

I sat.

He studied me for a moment too long.

“You don’t look like I expected.”

I laughed nervously. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You’re softer looking in person.”

I resisted the urge to say moisturizer and instead smiled politely. “I’m passionate about what I do. Keeps me young.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Passion shows in strange ways.”

“Sure does.”

His fingers drummed once on the desk. “Tell me, Mr. Arden. Why Vale Technologies?”

I took a breath.

“Well, I’ve been following the company since it launched its first encrypted cloud product. I think the way you prioritize ethical data storage and privacy shows a lot of… integrity. That’s rare.”

He raised a brow.

I had no idea what I just said. It sounded good, though.

He didn’t reply at first. Just tapped his pen against the desk once. “You speak like someone who isn’t afraid of an audience.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I should’ve gone into acting.”

“Maybe you already are.”

My throat tightened. Was that a joke? Or… a dig?

He leaned back slowly, eyes still fixed on me.

“Interesting,” he said finally. “You’re not like the others.”

I forced a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Most applicants come in rehearsed, robotic. You’re… odd.”

“Again, compliment?”

His mouth twitched. “We’ll call it a maybe.”

Silence.

He stood then, walking around the desk in slow precise movements like he was sizing me up.

I stood too, instantly regretting it as my bag slipped and nearly took me down with it.

He caught it. Lightning quick. Like, Olympic reflexes quick.

“Careful,” he said, handing it back.

“Thanks.” My voice cracked. Great. So much for 'confident twin.'

His hand brushed mine.

Cold.

Like, unnaturally cold. But maybe his office was freezing. Maybe rich people liked to keep their thermostat at arctic tundra levels.

He didn’t move away immediately. Just stood there, watching me.

“You’re hiding something,” he said, low.

I blinked. “W-what?”

His head tilted. “Your eyes twitch every time you lie.”

“I—I’m not lying.”

Now his lips curled into something dangerously close to a smirk. “We’ll see.”

Before I could answer, the door behind us burst open.

"Theo"

The same stone-faced security guy from the elevator stood there. “Sir. We’ve got an issue on the thirty-second floor. Something with… blood.”

Blood?

Both men shared a glance.

“Handle it,” the man — Dorian Vale— said calmly.

But he didn’t take his eyes off me.

Not even once.

Not when the door slammed shut. Not when the lights flickered once from the hallway. Not when my chest started to tighten from whatever this weird, slow-building tension was.

And especially not when he said, with a voice that made my stomach drop.

“Welcome to Vale Technologies, Mr. Arden. You’ve just been hired.”

Chapter 2 First Day Fraud

Sage

I woke up with a stiff neck and a mild case of regret.

And also a job.

“Rowan Arden, you’ve been hired,” I muttered aloud as I stared at my reflection, brushing out the wig like it was my actual hair. The ends were fraying, and I was about two head tilts away from it sliding off.

There was a knock at the bathroom door.

“You okay in there?” Rowan called through the wood. His feet dragged more today ,his injuries were worse than I thought .

“Just mentally preparing for my death via performance anxiety,” I said.

He snorted. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your voice low and your words vague. That’s literally 90% of tech bro conversations.”

I stepped out, already dressed in the same suit from the day before. “The other 10%?”

“Buzzwords and black coffee.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. He handed me a badge , well, his badge, which now had a temporary sticker on it that read “Visitor.”

“They’d upgrade it to full access once the background check clears,” he explained, clearly proud.

I paused. “Please tell me your resume doesn’t include stuff I can’t pronounce.”

“It’s a normal resume, Sage.”

“You wrote an essay on ‘data encryption ethics and post-quantum resilience.

He blinked. “I said normal. For me.”

I groaned.

"Make sure you go to the hospital this morning."I called out as he limped back out .

—

The second time I walked into Vale Technologies, I had a little less fear and a lot more caffeine. The lobby still looked like something out of a billionaire’s fever dream, and the receptionist still smiled like she could see my boxers print .

“Morning, Mr. Arden,” she said.

“Morning,” I croaked in my deepest fake voice, which sounded like a discount Batman. “Excited to get started.”

“HR will meet you by the elevators. You’ll be shadowing the DevOps team today.”

DevOps? What even was that? Was it development? Operations? A cult?

I didn’t ask.

A perky woman with big glasses and a bigger smile waved at me. “Rowan? I’m Marcy! HR generalist-slash-onboarding wizard.”

“Hi,” I croaked,trying not to look like I was lying about my very existence .

She led me through a maze of glass doors and glossy hallways until we reached a wide-open workspace. Dozens of desks, people in suits , hoodies and headphones then another smaller office , with a giant whiteboard covered in equations I couldn’t read.

“This is the DevOps floor,” she said. “Don’t worry, you won’t be thrown into the deep end. They’ll just get you set up, give you a little training. You know, normal stuff.”

“Totally. I love… training.”

She pointed toward a desk in the corner. “That one’s yours for now. You’ll be working with Wes and Priya.”

Wes waved from a few desks down , blond, bearded, looked like he could build a server and also wrestle a bear. Priya didn’t look up from her screen but nodded briefly.

I gave a stiff smile and sat down.

The chair squeaked. Loudly.

Marcy leaned in. “If you need anything, come find me.”

“Will do.”

She left, and I exhaled like I’d just run a marathon.

Wes rolled over in his chair. “So, Rowan, welcome to the dungeon.”

I blinked. “Uh. Thanks?”

“We call this corner the dungeon because it’s where they send all the new kids. If you hear someone crying in the bathroom later, just pretend you didn’t.”

Priya snorted without looking up. “Ignore him. He’s been here two months and thinks that makes him a veteran.”

“I am a veteran,” Wes said. “I survived onboarding with Greg.”

“Greg?” I asked.

Priya pointed discreetly to a man pacing across the other room with a tablet in one hand and stress in every molecule of his being.

“Ah.”

Wes grinned. “So. You good with Linux?”

“…Love it.”

“Docker?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Git?”

“I git it,” I said. Then immediately wanted to crawl into a hole.

He squinted at me. “You okay?”

“Totally. Just pre-caffeine awkward.”

Wes held up his mug. “Here. Office tradition. New guy drinks from the ‘First Day Freakout’ mug.”

It was bright red and covered in comic sans font.

I took it gratefully. “Feels accurate.”

—

By lunch, I had typed nothing, Googled six acronyms, and avoided three suspicious glances from Priya. I was starting to think the caffeine might wear off before my cover did.

That’s when my email pinged.

From:Executive Office

Subject: CEO check-in: 1 PM

Mr. Vale would like a brief follow-up meeting today. Report to his office.

I stared at it for a solid ten seconds.

He wanted to see me again?

What for? Did I say something wrong yesterday? Did he sniff out the wig glue?

I walked to the elevator like I was heading toward my own funeral.

—

Dorian Vale’s office was just as intimidating as I remembered.

He didn’t look up when I entered. Again.

“Sit,” he said.

I sat.

“You survived your first morning,” he said finally, eyes still on a document.

“Barely.”

His eyes flicked up. “Honesty. That’s rare.”

I tried to smile. “You have a very intense onboarding process.”

“It weeds out the lazy,” he said simply. “And the unqualified.”

That word hit a little too hard.

“Right,” I muttered.

He finally set his papers down and leaned back. “How do you think you did?”

“Uh… okay? No systems exploded. I learned where the bathrooms are. And I didn’t trip in front of HR, which felt like a win.”

That made the corner of his mouth twitch. Just a little.

“I like your bluntness,” he said. “But I can tell something is off .”

I froze. “What?”

“ I can see it" he said, voice low. “You smile too quickly. Answer too vaguely. But you’re not completely faking it.”

“I’m not—”

He stood and walked to the window. “This job demands a lot. Especially in this company. You’ll find that the more you perform, the harder it becomes to remember who you are.”

My throat tightened. “Is this some kind of test?”

“It’s advice.”

I stood. “Are we done?”

He turned, slow and deliberate. “One more thing.”

I paused.

“I’m very good at spotting inconsistencies,” he said.

Our eyes locked.

My heart pounded.

“Got it,” I whispered.

“Good.”

The elevator ride down was a blur of panic and sweat. I barely noticed that the security guy from yesterday was watching me the whole time, eyes narrowed.

—

Back at my desk, Wes leaned over and whispered, “Why did the CEO call you upstairs?”

“Just a follow-up,” I said quickly. “Nothing major.”

Priya glanced up. “He doesn’t do follow-ups with interns.”

Wes’s eyes widened. “Are you like… secretly rich?”

I laughed nervously. “Yeah, I totally wish.”

Chapter 3 The Intern With Something Off

Dorian

There are two types of new hires: the overeager ones who think enthusiasm will cover incompetence, and the quiet ones who hope no one notices they have no idea what they’re doing.

Rowan Arden was neither.

He walked into my office like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here or was about to be arrested.

I told him to sit. He did.

He tried to control his breathing, but his posture was all wrong and stiff for someone who should be confident in his resume.

I didn’t call it out. Not yet.

“Survived your first morning,” I said, keeping my tone unreadable.

He grinned—crooked, unsure, a little too casual.

“Barely,” he said.

Honest. Strange.

Most interns would fall over themselves trying to impress me. Instead, he looked like he was trying to make it through the next five minutes without passing out.

That… was refreshing.

“You’re not like the others,” I said.

His eyebrows twitched. “Is that… good or bad?”

“That remains to be seen.”

He chuckled softly, then looked down at his hands. Fidgety. Odd for someone claiming to be focused on cybersecurity.

I studied him.

Something felt off. Not wrong. Just...mismatched. Like a puzzle piece that looked like it fit until you pressed too hard.

I wasn’t alarmed. Yet. People lie to themselves all the time in this building. Sometimes that’s how they survive.

Still, something about him—about Rowan Arden—made me pause longer than I usually did.

His voice was slightly too careful. His smile a beat too late. His posture changed depending on how close I stood.

Anxious? Possibly.

Or maybe he was just intimidated. Most people were.

I kept the conversation brief. I didn’t want to scare him off—not on day one. But I watched the way he shifted in his seat when I walked behind him. The way his breath hitched when our eyes met.

Like he was always one step away from running.

When he left, I found myself still staring at the door.

Why did I feel like I’d just met a riddle?

—

Later that day, I passed by the DevOps floor.

I rarely came down here. That’s what middle management was for. But today, I wanted a look at the new hire. Without the barrier of my office.

He didn’t notice me at first.

He was leaning over a laptop, one hand on the mouse, the other holding the edge of the desk like it might run away from him.

“Wrong click, Arden,” Priya said from across the table. “That’s the test server.”

“I knew that,” he said quickly, covering the screen with his hand.

“Sure you did,” she muttered, barely hiding her smirk.

He laughed awkwardly and reached for his mug. It read First Day Freakout in obnoxious red font.

Wes leaned over. “You okay, man?”

“Oh yeah. Just internalizing failure quietly,” he muttered. “Totally normal Tuesday.”

I didn’t mean to smile, but I did.

There was something undeniably entertaining about him. He didn’t have the stiff posture of a career climber. He didn’t try to blend in, either. He stood out without meaning to.

And that unsettled me more than I liked.

I walked away before he noticed me watching.

—

That night, I found myself standing in front of the mirrored wall in my private office, holding the resume Rowan Arden had submitted.

Nothing was out of place.

B.S. in Cybersecurity. Freelance bug bounty work. A promising project on blockchain security. Modest GPA, high rec letters.

All of it checked out.

But still… there was something there. A sliver of something.

A gut feeling.

I don’t trust gut feelings. They’re dangerous for someone in my position. Instinct must be tested, not obeyed blindly.

I leaned against the window, eyes scanning the skyline.

If I had to put it into words: Rowan Arden didn’t feel like someone trying to hide a lie.

He felt like someone trying to hold together a very complicated truth.

I told myself to forget it.

One intern. One odd posture. One unusually flustered smile.

No reason to dig.

Still… I couldn’t shake the image of his hands slightly trembling when I got too close.

—

At 11:42 p.m., I poured myself a drink in the corner of my office. Bourbon. No ice.

It's tasteless ,like all foods and drinks tasted . I didn’t drink often, but tonight something kept buzzing in the back of my mind.

“Rowan Arden,” I muttered again, letting the name roll over my tongue.

I turned to the small tablet beside my desk and pulled up employee entry logs. Just a habit. I liked to know who stayed late, who came early. Patterns told you who would rise. And who would fall.

Arden clocked out at 6:07 p.m.

Nothing unusual.

But he’d signed in that morning at 8:59 a.m. on the dot.

Perfect timing. Precise.

People trying to make an impression were rarely late.

But they were rarely that… perfect either.

I shut off the screen.

I was reading too much into it.

Still—

A knock.

I turned.

The door creaked open, and one of the janitorial staff peeked in. “Mr. Vale, sorry. Didn’t realize you were still in.”

I waved a hand. “Go ahead.”

She nodded and wheeled in her supplies.

As she moved to the windows, she paused. “Oh. You had someone in here today, right? An intern?”

I looked over. “Why?”

“Cute kid,” she said with a shrug. “Reminded me of my niece. All nerves and caffeine.”

My eyes narrowed just slightly. “Your niece?”

She chuckled. “Just an expression. Though I guess with the long lashes and high cheekbones…”

She kept wiping the windows.

I didn’t move.

Not until she left the room.

And even then, I stood still for a long time, bourbon untouched.

Something about that comment sat heavy in my chest.

Not suspicion. Not certainty.

Just a flicker of doubt.

I didn’t have evidence. I didn’t even have a theory.

But I did have a memory.

The look in Rowan’s eyes when I got too close.

Fear. Not of me. Not of being wrong.

But of being seen.