Married To My Sister's Arranged Fiance

Two

Elena

The rain was freezing, soaking through my thin silk nightgown, but I barely felt it. The cold inside my chest was far worse. I watched through the glass as Kayla scrambled out of bed, her face a mask of shock. She unlocked the balcony door and pulled me inside, wrapping a heavy wool blanket around my shivering shoulders.

"Elena, you’re freezing! What are you doing?" she hissed, her voice low so the guards in the hallway wouldn't hear.

I couldn't speak. My teeth were chattering, not just from the cold, but from the weight of the secret pressing against my ribs. I looked at my younger sister—so calm, so observant. She was the only person in this house who didn't look at me like a piece of property.

"Father... he’s already calling the lawyers," I managed to say, my voice trembling. "He’s setting the date. Two weeks, Kayla. In two weeks, I’ll be Mrs. Xavier DeRico."

Kayla gripped my arms. "We knew this was coming after what you heard tonight. But why are you out on the balcony? Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?"

I looked down at my hands. They were pale and thin. I thought about the life I was supposed to have—the life I had been carefully crafting in the shadows, away from the blood and the business.

"It’s not just the marriage," I whispered. I looked toward the door, terrified our mother might be listening. "I thought I could handle it. I thought I could just... play the part. But I can't. I can't marry him because my heart isn't mine to give."

"Nate?" Kayla asked softly.

I nodded. Nate Houston. He wasn't a "Made Man." He wasn't part of the syndicate. He was a high-end mechanic who worked on the family’s fleet of cars. He was kind, he was funny, and he saw me as a woman, not a Vanoss. We had been seeing each other in secret for thirteen months. It was the only time I felt like I could actually breathe.

"If Father finds out about Nate, he’ll kill him," Kayla said, her eyes wide. "You know he will. A Vanoss daughter with a commoner? It’s a scandal he won't tolerate."

"I know," I choked out, a tear finally escaping and rolling down my cheek. "But that’s not the worst of it. Kayla, I’ve been feeling sick. In the mornings. And I’m... I’m late. Two weeks late."

The silence that followed was deafening. Kayla’s hands dropped from my arms. She stared at me, her mouth slightly open. In our world, a pregnancy out of wedlock was a disaster. A pregnancy with a nobody while being promised to a DeRico? That was a death sentence for everyone involved.

"Are you sure?" Kayla whispered.

"I took a test. I hid it in the bottom of my trash can," I said, my voice breaking. "It was positive. If I marry Xavier, he’ll know. On the wedding night, or soon after, he’ll know the child isn't his. He’s a DeRico. He won't just divorce me. He’ll s*******r me for the insult to his bloodline."

I collapsed onto the edge of Kayla’s bed, burying my face in my hands. The pressure was too much. I was caught between my father’s greed and a man’s potential for violence. Every path led to a grave.

"I thought about running," I sobbed. "But where? They have eyes everywhere. They’d find us before we even left the city. And Nate... he doesn't have the resources to hide us."

Kayla sat down next to me, her expression turning from shock to a hard, cold determination. I saw her brain working, calculating the risks just like Father did, but with a heart he never possessed.

"You can't tell them," Kayla said firmly. "Not yet. Not until we have a plan."

"There is no plan that ends with me alive," I replied hopelessly. "Either I marry Xavier and he kills me when he finds out I'm carrying another man's child, or I refuse and Father kills me for breaking the alliance. I’m trapped, Kayla. I’m a dead woman walking."

"Don't say that," she snapped. "We have two weeks. A lot can happen in two weeks."

I looked at her, seeing the fear she was trying to hide for my sake. She was only twenty one, and here I was, dumping the weight of my sins onto her shoulders. But I had no one else. In a house full of wolves, she was my only sanctuary.

"I need to go back to my room before the morning rounds," I said, standing up on shaky legs. The blanket slid to the floor, leaving me feeling exposed. "If Mother sees me like this, she'll know something is wrong. She sees everything."

"Go," Kayla said, helping me back toward the balcony. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. "Try to act normal tomorrow. Smile. Look at the dress sketches. Do whatever you have to do to make them think you’re a dutiful daughter."

I stepped out into the cold night air. I looked back at her one last time. "What if I can't keep the secret? What if I start showing?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Kayla promised. "Just survive tonight, Elena."

I climbed back over the railing to my own balcony and slipped inside, locking the door behind me. I stripped off the wet silk and climbed into my bed, but sleep was a stranger. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Xavier DeRico’s face—the face of the man who would either be my husband or my executioner.

The next morning, the house was buzzing. I could hear the servants moving quickly, the sound of heavy trunks being shifted. I dressed in a high-collared navy dress, something that felt like armor. I spent an hour on my makeup, carefully hiding the dark circles under my eyes and the paleness of my skin.

When I walked down to the breakfast room, the atmosphere was different than the night before. My father was on the phone, his voice a low, rhythmic growl. My mother was sitting at the head of the table, a stack of folders in front of her.

"Ah, Elena," Mother said, not looking up from her papers. "Sit. We have much to do. The DeRicos have sent over the initial terms. They are quite... thorough."

I sat down, my stomach churning at the sight of the eggs and bacon on the table. The smell of the food made my head swim. I reached for a piece of dry toast, forcing myself to take a small bite.

"Xavier will be arriving in three days for a formal introduction," Father said, hanging up the phone and joining us. He looked pleased. "He wants to see what he’s buying."

The word "buying" stung, but I didn't flinch. I couldn't afford to flinch.

"Is he... is he coming alone?" I asked, my voice thin.

"He’ll have his security, of course," Father replied. "But he’s requested a private dinner with you. He’s a man who values his time. He wants to ensure this alliance is worth the effort."

I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. A private dinner. That meant I would have to look him in the eye and lie for three hours straight. I would have to pretend I was honored to be his bride while I was carrying Nate’s baby.

"I understand, Father," I said.

"Good," he said, tapping the table. "Tristan is already preparing the security detail. This needs to be perfect. The DeRicos are looking for a reason to doubt us. We will give them none."

I looked over at Kayla, who had just entered the room. She caught my eye for a brief second, a silent message of support passing between us. She sat down and began to eat, her face a perfect mask of indifference. I envied her. I envied her safety.

As the day went on, the pressure only intensified. Dressmakers arrived with rolls of white lace and heavy satin. They measured me, their cold hands pressing against my skin. Every time they touched my stomach, I wanted to scream. I felt like a doll being prepared for a sacrifice.

"You're too thin, Elena," my mother remarked, watching the seamstress pin a piece of fabric. "We need to make sure you look healthy. Xavier is a man who appreciates vitality. We can't have you looking like a waif."

"I've just been a bit stressed, Mother," I lied, forcing a smile.

"Stress is a luxury you don't have," she replied coldly. "You are the face of the Vanoss family. Act like it."

I spent the afternoon trapped in my room, staring at the walls. I thought about Nate. I wondered if he knew what was happening. I wanted to run to him, to tell him everything, but I knew that would only lead to his death. If I truly loved him, I had to stay away. I had to let him live, even if it meant I had to die inside.

The weight of the crown was crushing me.

As the sun began to set, casting long, bloody shadows across my room, I realized that my life as Elena Vanoss was over. Regardless of what happened next, that girl was gone.

I walked over to my vanity and picked up a small, silver-handled hairbrush. I gripped it so hard my knuckles turned white. I had to be strong. I had to be the daughter my father wanted, at least for long enough to figure out a way to save my child.

But as I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a queen. I saw a girl who was drowning.

I heard a knock on the door. It was Tristan. He didn't wait for an answer before walking in. He looked at me, his eyes searching my face. Out of all of us, Tristan was the most impulsive, but he wasn't stupid.

"You look like hell, El," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just wedding jitters," I said, my voice steady.

"Xavier DeRico isn't a man you have 'jitters' about," Tristan said, his voice dropping. "He’s a man you have nightmares about. Just... be careful. Don't push him. He’s not like us. He doesn't have a code. He only has his own interests."

"I know who he is, Tristan."

"Do you?" he asked. "Because Father thinks this is a merger. I think it’s a takeover. Just make sure you stay on his good side. For all our sakes."

He left, leaving the door open. I felt the draft from the hallway, a reminder of how little privacy I truly had.

I walked over to the window and looked out toward the city. Somewhere out there, the DeRico empire was waiting. And somewhere out there, Xavier was preparing to claim me.

I touched my stomach lightly. "I'll save you," I whispered to the life inside me. "I don't know how, but I will."

But as I watched the lights of the city flicker, I realized the clock was ticking. The contract was signed. The wheels were in motion. And there was no way to stop a war if I failed to walk down that aisle.

The marriage was unavoidable. The trap was set. And as the moon rose over the Vanoss estate, I felt the finality of it all settle into my bones. There was no escape.

I was about to turn away from the window when I saw a black sedan idling at the end of the long driveway. It wasn't one of ours. The window rolled down just an inch, and I saw a pair of dark, cold eyes looking up at my balcony. They weren't Nate’s eyes. They were the eyes of a predator watching its prey.

Xavier DeRico wasn't waiting for three days. He was already here.