The house felt colder the moment Alira agreed to replace her sister.
Not physically—lanterns still glowed warmly in the halls, staff still hurried about preparing for the wedding, and sunlight still streamed through the tall windows—but something invisible had shifted. The air grew heavy. Every shadow sharper. Every sound louder.
As if the house itself knew the danger swallowing it whole.
Her mother led her downstairs, gripping her wrist tightly, as if afraid Alira would flee just like Kaira. They entered Father's office, where the curtains were drawn and the scent of bitter coffee clung to the air. Stacks of documents towered on the desk—financial statements, contracts, unpaid invoices.
And sitting behind them, hunched over, was her father.
His eyes—usually calm, calculating, and ever in control—were bloodshot, ringed with exhaustion.
He lifted his gaze when they entered. "Is it true?" he asked quietly. "Kaira is gone?"
Alira's throat tightened. "Yes."
Her father exhaled, long and broken, as if the breath tore his chest apart. He rubbed his temples with shaking fingers. For the first time in her life, Alira realized something terrifying:
Her father was afraid.
Not stressed. Not frustrated.
Afraid.
"Sit down," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
Alira obeyed, heart pounding.
Her mother remained standing, arms crossed, jaw locked in a tense line.
Her father clasped his hands together, leaning forward. "I need you to understand the situation, Alira. What your sister has done…" His voice cracked. "It might destroy us."
Alira swallowed. "Because of Damon Vargaz?"
Her father nodded tightly. "The engagement was not just a marriage agreement. It was a settlement."
Alira froze. "Settlement? For what?"
Her father hesitated.
Her mother spoke first, the truth spilling out like poison.
"For our debt."
Alira blinked. "Debt? But—we're fine. The company—"
"The company is collapsing," her father said sharply. Then softer, filled with shame, "I tried to hide it from you girls."
He stood and walked to the cabinet behind him. With unsteady hands, he pulled out a folder sealed with a black wax stamp.
When he opened it, Alira's stomach twisted.
Inside were signed documents—loans, collateral agreements, and stamped seals bearing the Vargaz insignia: a serpent coiled around a rose.
"How much?" she whispered.
Her father's voice was hollow. "Enough to bury us."
Silence fell.
Alira stared at the papers—at the bold signatures tying her family to something far darker than financial failure. Damon Vargaz had not offered the engagement out of romance or social alliance.
He'd offered it as leverage.
"The company fell into debt three years ago," her mother explained. "A chain of bad investments. A lawsuit we couldn't win. Your father turned to private lenders."
Alira's heart squeezed painfully. "The Vargaz Family."
Her father nodded once. "They agreed to take over the debt. On one condition."
"Kaira," Alira whispered.
"The engagement," her father corrected. "To show loyalty. To bind our families. And in exchange, Damon promised protection. He would stabilize the company, erase the threats, ensure we wouldn't be ruined."
Her mother added, "It was the only way to survive."
Alira's hands shook. She felt like she'd been dropped into ice water.
"But Kaira ran," she said softly.
A brittle silence followed.
Her father's jaw tightened. "Damon's father—the patriarch, Adrian Vargaz—is a man notorious for one thing: he collects debts." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And Damon is worse."
Alira lowered her gaze. Her voice trembled. "What will they do to us?"
"They won't forgive this insult," her mother said. "A Vargaz bride running before the wedding? It's humiliation. And the payment they demanded… can no longer be met."
The room seemed to spin.
"Dad… Mom…" Alira swallowed hard. "Is that why you want me to take her place?"
Her father's face crumpled. He looked older, smaller somehow. "Alira, I would never ask this of you if we had any options left."
"You do have options," she whispered. "You could tell Damon the truth—"
"No." Her father's voice cracked like a whip. "If Damon believes we deceived him, we lose everything. They'll take the house. The company. Our accounts. And possibly—" His voice died. "Our lives."
Her mother stepped closer to Alira, placing trembling hands on her shoulders. "Please, Alira. We're begging you."
Her father—a proud, self-made man who never asked for anything—bowed his head.
"Save us," he whispered.
The words shattered something inside her.
Alira had always been the quiet daughter. The obedient one. The girl who stayed out of trouble, who carried everyone's burdens silently, who never drew attention away from Kaira's brilliance.
She never imagined she would be asked to save the family by becoming a bride of convenience to a man whose name alone invoked dread.
A man rumored to rule his empire with blood.
A man whose eyes were said to see through lies.
A man who would kill for betrayal.
Her chest tightened. She could barely breathe.
"But what if Damon recognizes me?" she whispered.
"He won't," her mother replied quickly. "You and Kaira look so alike. And men like Damon don't notice details outside what they want. If you keep your eyes lowered and do as instructed, he'll never suspect."
Her father nodded. "All you need to do is survive the wedding. Once you're legally his wife, we'll have leverage. And maybe… maybe we can find Kaira. Bring her back quietly."
Alira stared down at her hands.
They want me to be a shield.
They want me to bleed for my sister's mistake.
They want me to walk into the lion's den and pray not to be eaten.
Her pulse hammered in her ears. "And if I refuse?"
Her parents exchanged a long, hollow look.
Her mother spoke in a whisper. "Then we are all dead."
The words were not dramatic. Not exaggerated.
Just true.
Alira felt her eyes burn. "I don't want to die."
Her father approached, kneeling before her—something he had never done. His voice broke with emotion.
"We will protect you. I promise—"
"You can't promise that," Alira whispered. "Not against him."
Her father's face fell.
Her mother squeezed her hand. "We know this isn't fair. But if we don't pay Damon back in a way he accepts, he will come for us."
"And he won't come alone," her father added quietly. "His men are already stationed outside. Watching."
Alira's breath trembled.
Everything she knew—her books, her quiet routines, her dreams of a simple life—felt impossibly far away.
"Okay," she whispered finally, voice cracking. "I'll do it."
Her mother sobbed softly with relief.
Her father covered his face, overwhelmed.
But Alira stared at the dark window, her reflection pale and fragile in the glass.
She had just sealed her fate.
And miles away, Damon Vargaz—cold, feared, merciless—was already preparing to claim a bride.
A bride who wasn't the one he was promised.
A bride who was lying from the very start.