AMELIA

The man stood tall, his face stern. His eyes hoovered around Noah, his eyes narrowing without uttering a word. His cold and deep green eyes lingered on my son's features. I pulled my son closer, my heart thumping.

Then he turned to me. "Move your kid out of my way," he said, his voice a low command and his expression unreadable. "If you can't control him, then don't bring him to places like this."

He looked away and strode past me, his steps calculated. I glanced back at him and my gaze flickered to a blood clotted bandage circling his wrist.

I picked my son up in my arms, still staring at the man. His deep green eyes were boring in my memory. The striking resemblance to my son. It made my heart race.

"Amelia!" A hand landed on my shoulder from behind. I turned to see Xander's concerned face. "Amelia, are you okay?"

Xander Fletcher was my only friend and best friend since childhood. He was always there for me, mostly in times of troubles. He accompanied me throughout my pregnancy period without complaint.

He also recommended this job vacancy of a nurse for me, knowing that I loved nursing. I was grateful to have him by my side.

"Yes, I am," I replied, my eyes straying to where the man had vanished.

"Did you meet up for the job interview?" he asked, brushing his wavy blonde hair away from his face.

"The interview was rescheduled," I said, my voice soft.

"Momma, I want to go home," Noah said, his words scrambled, though I could still understand, as he tapped my cheeks lightly. I looked at him. He was already worn out from running around and he needed to rest.

"Alright son," I said, brushing strands of his wavy hair away from his face. "We'll go home now."

Xander proposed to carry him and I agreed. "Let's go home, little champ," Xander said, smiling as he lifted him in his arms. I smiled, following behind.

*************************************

As I entered the living room, I was surprised to see my parents sitting on the sofa, my father's expression heavy. Xander had dropped me off in his car and left.

"Amelia, can you sit for some minutes, your mother and I would like to talk to you," my father said, his voice hesitant.

I laid my son, who was already sleeping peacefully in my arms, on the sofa beside me.

I glanced at my mum and there was no emotion on her face. I sat down, rubbing my palms together as my eyes flickered between them.

"You are getting married to Conrad Pierre in five days time," my mum blurted, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

I furrowed my brows, glancing at both of them. "Getting married? What do you mean? And who is Conrad Pierre?"

My dad sighed, his expression dark. "Amelia dear," he began. "Conrad Pierre is your sister's fiancé."

I shot up from the sofa, my eyes narrowing. I was barely involved in any family events while growing up so I didn't know who her fiance was. I had never even seen him before.

"My sister's fiancé? Why do I have to marry him?" I asked, puzzled.

My dad stood and approached me, his expression soft. "Dear, please try to understand. Since the company went bankrupt, we have been finding it hard to survive. Conrad has accepted to invest in our company so this is the only chance we have."

I moved away from him, disappointed. "So, how does it involve me? Why do I have to marry him?" My mind went blank as I tried to reason with them.

My mum stood, facing me, her face etched with irritation. "Nothing is free. Everything comes at a price. Your fiancé is dead, so is your sister and the least you could do for this family is accept the proposal." She rolled her eyes at me and exited the living room.

My father tried to hold my shoulder but I moved away from him again. "There was no other option, Amelia," he explained, his voice low. "He wanted another bride in exchange for his investment."

I scoffed. "A substitute bride then." And just like that, they accepted for me to be his bride. I tightened my jaw, glaring at my father. They didn't even seek my approval first. I carefully carried my son and went upstairs, ignoring his talks.

*************************************

I laid down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The shriek that tore from my mother's throat four days ago was a primal sound, one I had never heard before and hoped never to hear again. She had never cried for me like that or at all when I had broken my head and bled.

That fateful morning, as I opened the entrance door, I was shocked to see my fiancé, Brandon and my sister, Amy lying lifeless on our door step, their arms flung out.

The sight was surreal, like a painting rendered in shades of impossible horror. My parents, mostly my mum, refused to accept the sight in front of them. But I stood there, staring at them, a strange metallic taste filling my mouth, but it wasn't fear. Only a profound, chilling emptiness.

To my mum, her only daughter was dead. I wasn't considered her daughter, since I was born. I wasn't sad, not this time. True, my fiance treated me like I was some rejected monster, he deserved to suffer, but I didn't think it would end like this.

However, I didn't panic. My mum hit my chest continuously as tears poured from her eyes that day.

"Why was it her? Why was it my precious daughter? It should have been you, not her!" my mum said, hitting me. My heart broke to shards as I listened to her, but I didn't let my emotions show.

I wasn't allowed to show up for my sister's burial or condolence as it was considered bad luck by my mum. I sat in my room, watching from my window as the people who paid condolence visit come and go. And once again, I was ignored and forgotten.

And now, they wanted me to marry her fiancé?

Without consideration? I would never agree to that.

Suddenly, I opened my eyes to see a hand fondling my breast from my clothes.

"Aiden!" I gasped as I tried to move away from him. He pulled me back, covering my mouth with his hands.

"Don't try to scream little sis," he said, a smirk on his face.

AMELIA

I yanked his hand away from my breast with a force that sent a jolt up his arms. "Get your hands off me, you sick pervert!" I seethed, my heart racing with a toxic mix of fear and anger.

Aiden stumbled back, his smirk faltering. "Calm down, little sis. No need to get violent."

I glared at him, my jaw tightening. "You do that again, and I'll hit you so hard, you'll be in pains."

He let out a mocking chuckle, looking at me. "Don't act so tough, Amelia. You're still a coward hidden behind a mask of bravery."

I sat up on the bed, moving to the far end of the large bed. His words sent a slight chill down my spine. Maybe, I'm really still a coward.

"You're delusional," I said, trying to mask the doubt in my voice. "I'm not the same coward of a girl you could abuse years ago, Aiden. I can defend myself now."

He looked at me, grinning widely, a devious glint in his eyes. "I heard from mum that you're getting married to... Conrad, Amy's fiance right? You should be excited."

"It's not your business. Leave my room now or there'll be consequences."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Consequences? Like what? Telling mum and dad? Don't tell me you think they'll believe you? You don't exist to them."

I swallowed, his words piercing through my throat. He was right. None of them would care. At least my dad would pretend to, but my mum won't bother.

I sighed, taking out a pocket knife from my bedside cupboard. "Leave! Right now."

He stared at me, his eyes dark and narrowing. Without a word, he turned and left the room. I quickly shut the door and locked it behind him.

I strode to my bed and sat down, glancing at my son beside me. He was sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling. He was my pride.

***********************************

The sun had almost disappeared now, the streets growing darker as the skyline sparkled with city lights. I had spent hours dragging Noah from one hospital to another, filling out applications and hoping for even the slightest chance of employment.

The answer was always the same: "I'm sorry, you didn't get the job."

I sat in a small cafe across the last hospital I had gone to. I sighed, massaging my temple, my fingers wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee. That was all I could drink at the moment.

The last thing I needed was for Noah to notice how exhausted I was. I had thought maybe if I could find a job before five days, I would leave the house and wouldn't have to marry... Conrad Pierre anymore.

Yet, it was in vain. Luck wasn't shining on me, but I couldn't lose hope right now. I still had four days to go and I hoped everything would go well.

"What is this little champ doing here all by himself?"

A cheerful and deep voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up to see Xander smiling warmly at me, a briefcase on his hand.

"Hello, Xander," I said softly, managing a faint smile. He settled on a chair beside me, dropping his briefcase on the floor.

"Why are you lost in thought, Amelia?" he asked, scanning my face. I glanced at him, then at my son who was playing with his toy car.

"It's nothing, really," I said, my voice low. "Why are you here? I mean around this area?"

"My father sent me to retrieve an important document around here," he said.

Just then, a waitress approached out table, a smile on her face. "What can I get for you and this little, cute prince?"

I managed a faint smile in return, picking up the menu. My taste buds were bad and all I could taste was the coffee that had gotten cold and stale. "A toast and milkshake for kids will do," I said, dropping the menu.

"Alright ma'am," she said calmly. "Your son is adorable, sir." I turned to Xander and his lips were curled up in a smile.

"No. You're mist....."

"Thank you," Xander said, cutting me off. The waitress nodded and left.

Then, Xander turned to face me. "She was just complimenting his features," he said. "There was no need to correct her. Besides Noah and I both have the same blond wavy hair and slight similarities."

I shrugged. He wasn't wrong though. I didn't know why I felt the need to correct her.

"So, will you tell me what's bothering you now? You look stressed out, Amelia."

I heaved, looking down at the table. "I'm getting married in five days time, Xander," I blurted. Still saying those words and constantly reminding myself felt like punishment. A punishment that wasn't meant for me, but for my sister.

"What?" Xander's voice was a sharp intake of breath, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion. He leaned forward, his earlier relaxed posture vanishing. "Getting married? What are you talking about? To whom?

I squeezed my eyes shut, the absurdity of it washing over me in a fresh wave. "I'm getting married to my sister's fiancé, Conrad... Pierre."

The name felt like an ash on my tongue, heavy and unwelcome. "It was supposed to be Amy... not me."

"Who told you to do it? It can't be your decision," he said, his voice calm and understanding.

My gaze lifted, meeting his. "My... parents. They concluded everything without my approval."

He leaned in closer. "Why did they make the decision suddenly?"

I sighed. Thinking about the decision alone made my knees weak and my stomach rumble.

"Because of their company which went bankrupt. Conrad Pierre promised to invest in their company in exchange for another bride."

"But you haven't fully recovered from your fiance's death and they're dragging you into another mess. What about your son? Conrad will not accept him."

I looked at him, my brows arched. "Why do you say so. Do you know him?"

He brushed his hair back, looking at me. "He is the second son of the Pierre family," he began. "He has a zero tolerance for emotions or children noises. No one has gotten used to him yet."

I looked down at Noah, his blonde curls soft beneath my palm, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in my own heart. He was engrossed in his toy car, making quiet grooming sounds.

"I don't want to go ahead with this, Xander."

"My father's company is large and flourishing Amelia," he said, his voice low. "What if my father invests in your father's company? Will I get to marry you?"

CONRAD

A year and half away, and now I was finally back home. I was back to the very place I despised.

The same place that made me go to a rehabilitation centre for a year and half. It's strange how, despite everything my father did to me, he still wanted me to take over his company.

But of course it's because I was the only person available for now and it would never be free. I could take over his company only if I married within a certain period.

"Remember that everything you own is mine," he had once said.

Well, now that he has given me his company to manage, I planned to leave my mark everywhere until my father's name became nothing but a memory.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I remained standing by the window in my large bedroom, my gaze fixed on the gardener outside. Such lazy humans.

The sky was clear, its blue hues casting a bright glow in my room. It was peaceful.

"Come in," I said, my voice sharp and low.

The door slowly opened and Mr Colton Garrett, my personal assistant stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

"Young master," he said, his voice low. I turned, narrowing my eyes. "Don't call me that!" I said, my voice a low command. "I am Conrad Pierre."

He stepped back slightly, his hands folded behind him. "My apologies."

I sighed, settling down on a chair by the window. "Your father instructed me to ask you if your wedding will still be done in five days' time."

I leaned back, shutting my eyes for a few seconds. "The date hasn't been changed. The wedding will go on."

"Do you know the bride? Have you seen her before?"

"It doesn't matter Colton. She is a substitute and the secret will remain between us."

There was a brief silence before Colton spoke. "What about... your therapist, Conrad?"

I arched my brows, looking at him. "What about him?"

He cleared his throat, his hands still folded. "You haven't visited for a while and Mr Pierre will not take it lightly if he finds out."

I exhaled, standing up, my jaw tight. "I don't need therapy anymore. My father put me in rehabilitation for years. What more does he want?"

My hands were clenched, my mood dark as I walked to Colton. "I'm not going back there, Colton. Never."

He stared at me, his stance strong. He wasn't scared of me. He didn't see me as someone that needed therapy. Or maybe he did. He had taken care of me since childhood so he knew everything about me.

"What do you suggest I do?" he asked, his voice calm.

"Tell him to go on a trip for a very long time and if father asks, tell him the therapist dismissed me as stable."

He nodded and turned to leave, but stopped. "Your bandage is bleeding. Do you want me to change it?"

I glanced at my wrist, sighing. "I'll handle it myself. Leave!" He left the room and shut the door, the sound a faint thud.

When he was gone, I collapsed on my chair, taking off the bandage from my wrist.

The fabric peeled away, revealing a sight that made my stomach churn. It was a raw, angry red, the skin around the wound still swollen and tender. It wasn't just a wound. It was an ugly festering thing that would undoubtedly leave a thick scar, a permanent testament to my father's affection for me.

"A welcome home gift," he had said a month ago, a grin on his face. I had just gotten back, still reeling from the rehabilitation journey when he had welcomed me.

I could still remember his eyes glinting with that familiar predatory amusement.

His words had haunted me before I left for my therapy sessions. "Never return to that little weakling you were years ago."

I hated myself for the weakling I was as a child. I hated my younger self. I hated being reminded of how I was then. And that little kid was a mirror of how weak I was then. The one I had seen at the hospital the previous day. I hated that kid who had stared back at me through the child's innocent eyes. I hated how he looked. And I hoped never to see him again.

*************************************

AMELIA

Days had passed since my job search began. Four days of endless searching and it yielded nothing. Some of the hospitals I went to called me. Only to tell me I didn't get the job or pass the interview.

When I had brought up Xander's offer to my parents that night, I hoped they would agree. Xander wasn't perfect, but his proposition felt like a lifetime, a way to escape the suffocating pressure and fear for Noah's future.

I laid it out, carefully, trying to make it sound reasonable. My mother's face crumpled in disbelief, then solidified into an expression of utter disapproval. My father, who had been listening silently, slammed his fist on the table.

"Absolutely not!" he roared, his voice shaking the quiet air. "Don't ever think about doing that. It is Conrad Pierre or no one else."

My shoulder sank and my fragile hope shattered, leaving behind a cold, empty ache

Since then, I hadn't bothered talking to them again. Just as I put my son to sleep and was about to lie down, a soft knock sounded on my door.

Thinking it would be my brother, Aiden again, I took out my pocket knife and went to open the door. I was surprised to see my father standing there, his face calm. I told him to enter inside and he did.

"We've talked about Xander, and that's not an option," he began, his gaze serious as we settled down. "We already made the deal with Conrad Pierre and he will not spare us if he finds out we opt out from the deal."

I stared at him, my heart slowly breaking to shards. They already made the deal with him. Without informing me, again.

He then leaned forward, his eyes earnest. He glanced at my son and was about to touch him, but I held his hand midway, my mood dark. He pulled his hand back, sensing my disapproval.

"Think about Noah, Amelia. Think about his life and future. Do you want him to grow up struggling? Or to worry about where his next food will come from? Conrad can give both of you a good and stable life. A life you can't provide right now, not on your own."

I glared at him, my lips quivering. "But Xander is ready to provide that for me and also invest in your company. Or you just want it to be Conrad and no one else. You're practically selling me off to him."

He stood up, his mood changing. "This discussion is over! You're getting married to Conrad tomorrow." He said and left my room, not glancing back once.

I sighed, collapsing on the bed. Tomorrow. It will happen tomorrow. I will be a substitute bride tomorrow.