The car came to a stop at the front of a small modern-looking building and there was also a larger hall by the side of the building. Reporters were standing everywhere. The driver rushed to the side of my door and opened it.

As soon as I stepped out, different strangers were talking at the same time. Some asked questions, some offered greetings, while some just congratulated me but all this was meant for someone else.

For Elena.

Men in black suits rushed towards me, clearing the paths and also guarding me. It was like they didn't want the reporters to get a single picture of me.

The door of the small building swung open, the hall was brighter than I expected, crystal chandeliers spilled light over every corner, shining like a thousand eyes fixed on me.

I could feel real eyes watching me— strangers, family, investors— turned towards me at once. My hands clenched tighter around the bouquet. The scent of roses, mixed with the faint perfume my stepmother had insisted I wear, made my stomach twist.

And then I saw him. He definitely stood out, the man I am forced to marry.

Asher.

The man who was supposed to marry my sister.

His back was facing me. Tall, composed, broad shoulders, his black suit cut into perfection, every detail screaming with power and control. It was like he belonged to another world. He wasn't smiling. He didn't have to. His aura spoke. I'd seen men like him only in papers and screens, the kind of men who made others fold without a single word from them. And there is me who is pretending to be the woman meant for him.

I walked forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. My palms were damp beneath the veil and I held the bouquet even tighter to calm my shaking hands.

The man on the altar thinks I'm Elena.

The thought of being caught by this man crossed my mind. My throat dried, and I had to remind myself to breathe and hope that everything would be okay.

“Savannah,” My stepmother called in a low voice as she walked towards me. She leaned closer, her hands pressing into my back as if to keep me moving. “Keep your head high. And remember there is no room for mistakes.”

I nodded weakly, though the sound of my real name— Savannah, not Elena— made something burn inside my chest. A reminder of what I was giving up. Of the person I was disappearing into.

When I finally reached him, Asher's eyes looked over at me once. Brief, sharp. Like a man inspecting his contract, he'd already signed but still wanted to ensure it wasn't flawed.

My stomach flipped. For a second, I thought he saw me. Not Elena, but me. But then he looked away without a single expression on his face. Just cold.

The ceremony began, words blending in a blur. My body stood still, but inside I was spiraling. I answered when prompted, my voice faint but steady enough to pass.

Asher slid the ring onto my finger with steady hands. His touch was brief, almost careless but it seared through me like fire. I slipped the ring onto his finger with shaking hands, terrified that even this small closeness might give me away. My heart was screaming the truth I could never say.

I am not the woman you were meant to marry. I am not Elena.

When it was over, applause filled the room. Smiles, whispers, flashes of cameras— everything was like a haze I couldn't process.

I turned my head to the side slightly, catching sight of Elena in the crowd. My sister smirked and then her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. No regret. Not envy. But relief. Relief because she wasn't the one standing in my position.

Asher's hands closed around mine, firm. He raised our hands up showing both of our rings, then he pulled me out of the swirl of sounds.

His hands should have been comforting. Instead, it terrified me.

Because his hands were warm, his touch was real. And so was the weight of the vow I had just stolen.

The smiles around us blurred. My head spun. Each step I took forward felt like I was sinking deeper into a lie too heavy to carry.

When we got to the corridor away from the flashing cameras, silence pressed down on us. Asher let go of my hand.

I dared to glance at him.

I could feel his eyes on me. He was watching me. Not with affection, not even curiosity, just observation, like I was another document to study.

“You hesitated,” he said finally. His voice was low, calm, steady but it carried weight.

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“At the altar,” he continued.”Before you said ‘I do’. You hesitated.”

Panic clawed up my throat, and I still didn't look at him. My fingers tightened around the bouquet until petals crushed between my grip.

“I…. I was nervous,” I stammered, forcing a laugh that sounded so stiff and weird to my ears. “It's a wedding. Everyone gets nervous. And I've never met you before, so…….”

“Fair enough” that was all he said then he studied me again. “You don't look like someone who just got everything they wanted,” he said evenly.

This time I looked at him. My lips parted, but no words came out.

He was right.

Because I didn't get everything I wanted.

I got what my twin sister didn't want.

I forced a small smile, praying it didn't look as fragile as it felt. “I'm just tired, my feet ache from wearing these heels for hours. It's been a long day.”

He stopped looking at me, his face forward. He didn't ask any more questions. Instead, he gave a small nod and then turned away, walking down the corridor.

Then a hand caught my hand.

“Elena.”

I froze. The voice was familiar.

I turned slowly.

Marcus.

Of course, he thought I was her.

My sister's ex. She broke his heart, but he kept coming back to patch things up till he found out she cheated on him. Then he stopped. And I've never seen or heard from him till this very moment. Why now?

He pulled me into a corner. His expression was a mix of shock and disbelief.

The flowers I held slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.

“Elena,” He said once again as he stepped closer.

I lowered my eyes, praying the veil hid the panic on my face.

No he couldn't know. He can't find out I'm not Elena.

“Is there a problem?” I heard Asher's voice behind me.

I turned and saw that he was walking towards me. He stopped beside me, oblivious, his expression cool and unbothered as if today was just another business deal.

I looked at Marcus, his eyes were locked on me, burning with recognition, confusion, and something even darker. Jealousy?

“Elena….. I”

And in that instant, I knew this was only the beginning of my undoing.