"What if I don't do it?"

My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at them, my breath hitching. "What do you mean she ran away… and I should take her place as the bride?" My voice came out in a whisper, then a little louder, laced with disbelief. My hands trembled as I took a step back, searching their faces for any sign that this was some kind of twisted joke. But all I saw was urgency… and expectation.

I stood frozen, my mind spinning as the weight of the situation crashed over me. "I can't believe my step-sister decided to run away on the day of her wedding… and now I have to take her place." The words felt foreign on my tongue, as if saying them would somehow make them real. My pulse raced, my palms slick with sweat. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Yet, the expectant stares around me told me otherwise.

Tears burned in my eyes as I shook my head furiously, my voice breaking with desperation. "No, Mommy, I can't! I won't marry that man for Beatrice's sake!" My hands clenched into fists, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. "Why don’t you just tell his family that Beatrice ran away and cancel the wedding?" My voice wavered, pleading, but deep down, I already knew the answer.

Frustration bubbled inside me as I clenched my fists, my voice laced with anger and exhaustion. "Mommy, why do I have to do everything for Beatrice? That ungrateful girl!" My breath hitched, my chest tightening as I searched her face for an answer—any justification for why my life always had to be sacrificed for hers. But all I saw was the same expectation, the same silent command to obey.

A sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek before I even had time to react. My head snapped to the side, my vision blurring as the force of the slap left my skin burning. "You ungrateful bitch!" my mother spat, her voice venomous, her eyes filled with cold fury.

"You should be lucky that the chairman decided to take you as his daughter! So you will do everything possible to please him. Even if you don’t like it, you have to do it—because you have no choice. Am I understood?"

Her words cut deeper than the slap, each syllable a brutal reminder that my fate was never mine to decide. My fists trembled at my sides, my breath coming in shaky gasps, but I swallowed the lump in my throat. I knew better than to fight back.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as bitterness swirled inside me. "Meanwhile, Beatrice—my step-sister—got everything she wanted on a platinum platter without even lifting a finger." The thought burned like acid in my chest. "And me? I was nothing more than her shadow, the one left to clean up her mess every single time.

"My jaw tightened as I swallowed the resentment clawing at my throat. It was always like this—always her world, and I was just the pawn forced to hold it together.

My chest heaved with rage as I took a step back, my fists trembling at my sides. My mother’s cold, unyielding gaze only fueled the fire burning inside me. "What if I don’t do it?" I spat, my voice shaking with defiance. "What if I refuse to marry him instead of Beatrice? What are you going to do, Mommy?"

I glared at her, daring her to answer, daring her to admit that I was nothing more than a pawn in her twisted game. My heart pounded violently in my chest, a mixture of fury and desperation swirling inside me. I wasn’t Beatrice. And I wasn’t going to be her replacement. Not this time.

My mother’s voice dripped with cruel satisfaction as she folded her arms, tilting her head slightly. "Well, I guess, Antonia, you would love to see your father suffer, right? And who is going to take care of his hospital bills? Who will pay off his debts?" Her words were like a dagger, sharp and deliberate, slicing through my resolve.

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms as my chest tightened. That was always her weapon—her favorite way to manipulate me. Threats wrapped in guilt, laced with just enough truth to shackle me in place. But she conveniently forgot one thing—she was the reason my father was drowning in debt. She was the reason he lay in that hospital bed, barely clinging to life.

And yet, here she was, playing the victim, forcing me into yet another one of her twisted games.

My mother’s grip was firm, her nails digging into my arm as she shoved me forward. "Now get into that room, change into the dress, and go to your wedding," she ordered, her voice sharp and final.

I stumbled, catching myself against the doorframe, my heart pounding in my chest. The room before me was bathed in soft light, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume. And there it was—my sister’s wedding dress, pristine and untouched, hanging like a ghostly reminder of the life I was about to step into.

I turned back, desperation clawing at my throat, but my mother’s cold gaze held no sympathy. The door slammed shut behind me, sealing my fate. I was trapped.

I stepped out of the room, my breath unsteady as the weight of the wedding dress settled around me like a cage. Every step forward felt like a step deeper into the unknown—a future I had never chosen, with a man I knew nothing about. The luxurious fabric trailed behind me, but all I felt was the suffocating grip of fate.

As I reached the grand doors of the wedding hall, my stepfather extended his arm, his expression unreadable. I hesitated, but with a deep breath, I placed my hand in his, letting him lead me forward. The heavy doors swung open, revealing a sea of unfamiliar faces, a life waiting to swallow me whole.

But just as my foot touched the aisle, my world tilted.

My eyes lifted, meeting the man at the altar—and my jaw dropped.