The billionaire's unexpected bride

Beneath the Veil

Chapter Three:

When Celia slammed the door in my face, it felt as though the weight of the world had been thrust upon my shoulders. Her threats played on a loop in my mind like a broken record, growing louder with each passing second. What had I uncovered? What secret was so powerful that she deemed me a threat to her very existence?

The following day began with a deceptive air of celebration, masking the undercurrents of tension that I alone seemed to notice. Celia's bridal shower was scheduled for that afternoon, and the mansion buzzed with activity. Servants rushed through the halls with trays of champagne and floral arrangements, while laughter echoed faintly from the garden. Celia's parents had returned late the previous night, their presence a reminder of the union that loomed ahead—a union far greater than just Celia and Andrew.

In the grand dining hall, I found myself arranging a centerpiece of fresh peonies, their delicate fragrance doing little to calm my nerves. Across the room, Celia’s father stood at the head of the table, his booming voice filled with pride as he spoke to Celia.

“So, how does it feel to be just two days away from the big day?” he asked, a warm smile spreading across his face. “A marriage between our family and the richest CEO—what more could we have hoped for you?”

Celia, seated elegantly with her back straight and her teacup poised delicately in her hand, offered him a practiced smile. “It feels just right, Father. Everything is going according to plan.”

Her mother beamed at her from the other end of the table. “You’re going to make a wonderful first lady someday, my dear. Andrew is a fine young man.”

For the briefest of moments, I saw something flicker in Celia’s eyes—a shadow of doubt, a c***k in her otherwise impenetrable façade. But she recovered swiftly, her smile returning, though its warmth felt forced. “I agree, Mother. He’s everything I could have wished for.”

I nearly dropped the vase I was holding. There was a hollowness to her words, a lack of conviction that sent a chill down my spine.

The next morning, as part of my daily routine, I entered Celia’s room to prepare her belongings for the day. She emerged from the bathroom with her damp hair cascading in soft curls around her face, her expression unreadable.

“Amelia,” she began, her voice calm but edged with something I couldn’t place, “have you ever wondered what it would be like to live my life?”

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. “I’m sorry, ma’am?”

She approached her vanity and began brushing her hair, her movements deliberate and almost hypnotic. “All the luxury, all the power, all the attention—doesn’t it make you jealous?”

Her question hung in the air, heavy and charged. I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “I suppose everyone dreams of comfort, ma’am. Your life does appear... ideal.”

She let out a soft, humorless laugh and turned to face me. “Ideal,” she repeated, as if tasting the word for the first time. “Do you really believe that?”

I set down the tray of toiletries I had been holding and looked at her, confused. “Ma’am, is something wrong?”

She studied her reflection in the mirror, her eyes distant. “Tell me, Amelia, would you marry the richest CEO?”

The question jolted me like a bolt of lightning. “I—excuse me, madam?”

“You heard me.” She turned her piercing gaze toward me, her voice trembling slightly. “If you were in my place, would you do it?”

“I... I don’t know,” I stammered. “I suppose it’s not my place to—”

“I can’t marry him,” she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air like a ticking clock, each second amplifying their weight.

“I’m sorry, ma’am... what are you saying?”

Celia stood abruptly and walked toward me, her expression a mixture of desperation and resolve. “I can’t marry him, Amelia. I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. Andrew deserves someone who cares for him, someone who can be true. And that someone isn’t me.”

I was speechless. “But, ma’am... the wedding is tomorrow. Your parents, the CEO, the entire company—”

“I know,” she cut me off, her voice sharper now. “Do you think I want to live the rest of my life as a puppet? Smiling on cue, pretending to love someone I don’t?”

Her words struck a chord deep within me, and I found myself stepping back, overwhelmed. “What are you planning to do?”

She reached out and grabbed my hands, her grip firm and almost pleading. “That’s why I need your help, Amelia. I need you to take my place.”

Her proposition hit me like a blow to the chest. “Ma’am, I don’t understand—”

“You’ll wear the dress,” she explained quickly. “Walk down the aisle, say the vows. No one will know it’s you. The veil will cover your face. After the ceremony, you can disappear. Say it was a mistake, that I got cold feet. I just need someone to buy me time.”

“Madam, this is madness,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I can’t... I’m just a maid, I could never—”

“You can,” she insisted, her grip tightening. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Alex and I will leave the country, and no one will ever know. Please, Amelia. After everything I’ve done for you and your sister, don’t you think you owe me this?”

Her words hit their mark. I thought of my sister, of the medical bills Celia had paid, of the kindness she had shown me when no one else did.

After a long, agonizing silence, I nodded. “All right, ma’am. I’ll do it.”

Relief washed over her face, and she pulled me into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Celia coached me relentlessly, teaching me how to mimic her mannerisms and speech. That night, she hosted a final soirée, laughing and smiling as though everything were perfectly normal.

The next morning, she helped me into the wedding gown. It was a masterpiece of lace and silk, its intricate beading catching the morning light. As I stared at my reflection, I felt like an imposter, a shadow pretending to be the sun.

“You look perfect,” Celia said, stepping back to admire her work. “No one will ever know.”

My nerves threatened to consume me as I turned to her. “Are you sure about this, ma’am?”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure. This is the only way.”

And with that, she left, her silhouette disappearing into the distance as Alex’s car sped away.

The cathedral was a sea of faces, all turned toward me as I walked down the aisle. My heart pounded in my chest, each step feeling like an eternity. Andrew stood at the altar, his expression unreadable as he watched me approach.

The ceremony began, the priest’s voice echoing through the grand hall. I recited the vows with a trembling voice, the words tasting foreign on my tongue.

But when the priest said, “You may kiss the bride,” my world shattered.

Andrew lifted the veil slowly, his eyes widening as he took in my face.

“You’re not Celia,” he whispered, his voice filled with confusion.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet as I stood there, exposed and vulnerable, beneath the veil of my own deception.