The billionaire wrong bride

“You have to be his bride”

My stepmother's words cut through the air, sharp and cold. Breaking the silence between us all at the dining table.

I froze, my food halfway through my mouth. For a moment I thought she was referring to my sister but she was in fact looking at me.

“Me?” my voice cracked. “You want me to marry Asher Maximilian?”

Asher Maximillian, the billionaire that people whisper about, owns half of the city. And my twin sister Elena who was groomed for this match — wasn’t she supposed to meet him this weekend?

There were dark whispers about Asher, some said his fiancée had disappeared years ago, others said she ran away a few years after their wedding—- no one knew the actual truth or maybe it's just some baseless rumors.

Elena looked at me, her eyes made her look scared but she let out a mocking laughter that covered it up “Mother, let's be serious. I can't be the one tied to this deal. Savannah would be good for that since she's always used to pretending.”

What was Elena afraid of? As if the idea of marrying Asher scared her more than poverty ever could

“Elena—”

“Shut up!” she shouted, slamming her fork so hard on the table, the plates rattled. “Do you think I'll settle or chain myself to some man I don't want? Do you think I'll let anyone dictate my life? Never. If someone has to be sacrificed, it will be you. You're perfect for it. Always smiling. Always quiet. Always obedient. You'll smile when you're supposed to smile, and sign when they ask you to sign. You've always been good at doing what you're asked to do, right?”

Her words hurt but I couldn't bring myself to say anything back to her. I just stared at my food and then my eyes turned towards my father who sat at the head of the dining table, a thick blanket over his legs, his skin pale, and his breath shallow. He was asleep.

There were dark whispers about Asher, some said his fiancée had disappeared years ago. Some said she ran away a few years after their wedding, others said she was never seen again. No one ever spoke the truth out loud— not in this city or maybe it's just some baseless rumors. I need to just focus on the situation right now.

“Elena, please,” I whispered. “Don't do this—”

“You will,” she said, pointing at me like I was already condemned. “You’ll marry Asher Maximilian and pretend to be me. And you'll do it without complaint, or you'll destroy what's left of this family.”

Vivian set down her fork. “We don't have time for your softness, Savannah,” she said, staring at me, her tone left no room for argument. “You're marrying him. This is not about what you want. This is about survival. Our company is one step away from going bankrupt. Your father's medical bills are choking us. Do you want him dead? Do you want us on the street?”

“No! Of course not, but—”

Her stare cut through me, and the words disappeared in my tongue.

“Elena is not suited for this life,” she went on, her voice calm but dangerous. “She is free, wild but you—” she gestured at me with a flick of her wrist— “You were born to serve, Savannah. To keep quiet. To sacrifice.”

“I'm built to be free and you're not,” Elena added, giving me a cruel smile.

“Mother—” I began, but my mother's eyes dared me to go against her.

“Don't argue,” she snapped.

The silence after her words was suffocating. It was suffocating for me.

Then a cough broke it. A dry cough. The sound of it made my heart ache.

“Papa…..” I turned instantly towards my father at the head of the table. His skin was pale, his face ashy, and his hands were shaking under his blanket as he struggled to talk.

He tried to sit up, but his body shook. “Vivian…Elena ... stop this madness,” he spoke softly, I could barely hear him. “She is my daughter….. Not your pawn. I won't have her sold like a prize to the highest bidder.”

Vivian glared at me, then looked at my dad with a smile. “Darling, you can barely breathe. You know better than anyone what's at stake. Without this marriage, there will be no treatment. You'll die.”

“Don't talk like that!” my voice cracked. I moved closer to him and held his weak hands. “Papa, it's okay. You don't have to listen to them. I'll find another way. There has—”

But then his body convulsed, his eyes rolled back, and he slumped forward in his wheelchair.

“Papa!” I screamed at the top of my voice, shaking him desperately. “Papa, no, no, no, stay with me! Please!”

His glass on the table fell, water spilling across the table soaking into his untouched bread. Servants rushed forward, one fumbling for the phone.

“Call the doctor fast!” Vivian shouted at one of the servants.

“Papa!” My tears blurred everything. His breathing was shallow. “Please! Open your eyes…. Please, papa!”

And then— miraculously— his eyes moved. His grip tightened around my hands. “Savannah… don't do it. Don't…… let them force you,” his whispers were so faint I had to lean in to catch his words. “Don’t listen to them…… I’m your father and I won't let you do it.”

His words shattered me.

“I won't do it, Papa, I promise.” I sobbed.

“Don't trust—” he rasped, before his strength failed and his hands slipped out from mine.

The doctor pushed past me, checking his pulse, muttering instructions to a nurse who walked in with him. Vivian turned towards me, her face deadly. I could see the rage on her face.

She moved closer. And closer. Her hands gripped my shoulder tightly. “He doesn't know what he's saying. He's obviously too sick right now. Confused. If you love him so much, marrying Asher is a great opportunity for financial freedom. Without better treatment, he won't survive for long. And the treatments cost money. Money we don't have.”

I shook my head. “No. He just said he doesn't want this! Leave me alone!”

“Don't be naive,” Elena stepped closer. “He's a very sick old man who can barely breathe. Do you want to honor his words and watch him die? Or do you want to save him?”

Her cruel words were like acid. I squeezed my chest trying to control my sobs. “Elena—”

“Stop pretending you care about choice,” she leaned closer to my face. “This isn't about you. It's about us. It's about him.” She pointed at my father who was being moved by a doctor and two nurses and a servant to his room. “If you love him, you'll do this. If you refuse— you might as well sign his death warrant yourself.”

Her words broke me.

“Savannah, do you want his blood on your hands? Because if you refuse, what will happen?” my stepmother chirped in.

“I’ll do it,” I choked out.

Vivian smiled in triumph. “Good girl.”

At this point I really did not care about what they had to say, I only cared about my father. He looked so lifeless right now. The man who was steady enough to bake their favourite flavour of cake on their birthdays for twenty-two years but stopped the last two years because he suffered a stroke.

That’s why they were doing this. For him. For the hospital bills we couldn’t pay. For the treatments that drained our accounts faster than we could keep up.

Still, I whispered, “Mother,” the word always felt small and foreign whenever I said it. “I don't want this.” My voice came out as a whisper but I knew Vivian heard me, she always does.

“You don't want this?” Vivian chuckled, then she looked at me with those cold eyes. “Want?” she repeated. “Savannah let me make myself clear. What you want does not matter. The company matters. Your dear father matters to you. Elena is not suited for that kind of life so you must stand in place of her whether you like it or not.”

My heart broke once again. I wanted to scream. I wanted to do something very unusual, like— hitting my hands hard on the table or maybe even walking out after I tell them I'm not a pawn they could move around.

I nodded even though my chest felt like it was going to split in two.

The doctor walked back to us in the sitting room and told us my dad was stable now, asleep, and shouldn't be disturbed. He asked one of the nurses to stay behind in case anything happens.

‘He needs plenty of rest,’ the doctor said, before leaving.

Elena coughed mockingly then leaned back, a predator's smile on her lips. “You'll wear this for the brief wedding tomorrow,” she said casually, like we were talking about which food to eat. “The wedding is by eleven, just smile, answer simply, and please do not screw this for all of us.”

“Elena… don't you have a bit of sympathy for our dying father?” My voice was breaking.

“I do…… that's why you have to do this so we can have time with our dear father,” she replied, playing with her hair.

“What if Asher realizes I'm not you?” I asked.

Her voice was cruel and soft at the same time. “He won't. Just do what you're told to do and always be careful around him. You always wanted to be me, didn't you? So this is your chance to be me.”

I wanted to slap her, but instead I bit my lips till I tasted blood.

“You’ll be fine as long as you play this role well,” Vivian said as she walked over to me and put her hands on the lower part of my back. For a second, only a second I wished I was held for the right reasons. A show of solidarity or comfort. “This is the only way,” she said, handing me an envelope. “Remember what's at stake.”

I wanted to go back to my father's room, refuse everything, and cry silently in his arms. Instead, I collected the envelope— inside was a small cash that would be enough for my father's medical bills. At least enough to cover a month's worth of treatment, maybe two.

“I'm going to bed” was the only thing I uttered before I walked towards the direction of my room with the dress and envelope in my hands.

That night, I lay awake turning and staring at the ceiling. Elena's silk dress hung in the corner of my room like a shadow, waiting. I pressed my face to my pillow to muffle my cries.

By morning, I stood in front of the mirror and my eyes looked so tired because I had cried all through the night. I put the silk gown over and down my body to see if it was a good fit, which it was. Elena's perfume left a faint smell on the collar of the dress, which smelled entirely different from my own perfume.

Outside a car engine started. Voices in the hallway. Vivian's heels clicked. “Take, put this on. It's the least I can do for you to look presentable,” that was all she said as she throws what looks like a silver necklace towards me then left the room immediately.

Elena's voice floated up the stairs. “Don't be late, your car is waiting downstairs. And Savannah, remember this is for our father.”

My chest hurt. “For father,” I whispered back to the room as I clipped the necklace around my neck.

And with shaking hands, I stepped out the door and into the car then watched as it drove to meet the man who believed he was marrying my sister.