His Wife Was the Woman I Pretended to Be

The first time I was offered a million dollars to become another woman, I laughed. I thought it was a joke. Then the man across the table pushed a photograph toward me. I stopped laughing. The woman in the picture looked exactly like me. Same dark hair. Same brown eyes. Even the small scar above her left eyebrow was there. For a few seconds, I could only stare. “Who is she?” I asked. “Victoria Laurent.” The name meant nothing to me. The man folded his hands on the table. He was dressed in a black suit that probably cost more than everything I owned. “You're going to become her.” I pushed the photograph away. “No.” “You haven't heard the offer.” “I don't need to.” He smiled faintly. “You have a sick mother, a sister being threatened by a loan shark, and a house that will be seized in eleven days.” My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. He knew too much. I stood. “Who are you?” “My name is Marcus Reed. I represent the Laurent family.” I should have walked out. Instead, I sat back down. Because eleven days. That was how long I had. Eleven days before the bank took our house. Eleven days before the man threatening my younger sister stopped sending messages and came looking for her. And only three days ago, the doctor had told me my mother's condition was getting worse. I swallowed. “What do you want me to do?” Marcus slid another photograph across the table. This time, it was of a man. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. A sharp jaw and colder eyes than any man I'd ever seen. Even in the photograph, he looked untouchable. “Adrian Sterling,” Marcus said. The name made my stomach twist. Everyone in the city knew Adrian Sterling. He was the heir to Sterling Holdings, one of the most powerful business families in the country. Newspapers called him ruthless. Businessmen called him brilliant. Women called him handsome. I had never cared enough to form an opinion. Until now. “Victoria is engaged to him,” Marcus continued. I frowned. “Then why aren't you asking Victoria to marry him?” His expression changed. “She disappeared.” I stared at him. “Disappeared?” “Four days ago.” “And you want me to replace her?” “For thirty days.” I almost laughed again. “You're insane.” “Thirty days,” he repeated calmly. “You will attend the wedding, marry Adrian Sterling, live in his house and maintain the identity of Victoria Laurent until the business agreement between the two families is finalized.” “And then?” “You walk away.” I looked at the photograph again. “This is illegal.” “It is dangerous,” he corrected. “There's a difference.” I pushed the picture toward him. “I can't do this.” Marcus reached into his briefcase and placed a bank document on the table. My eyes landed on the number. One million dollars. My breath caught. “One million?” “Five hundred thousand will be transferred into your account immediately. The rest will be yours after the thirty days.” I stared at the paper. That money could clear the debt on our house. It could pay for my mother's treatment. It could get my sister away from the people hunting her. It could give us a life where every phone call didn't make me afraid. But there was a problem. “I don't know anything about Victoria.” “You'll be given everything you need to know.” “And Adrian?” Marcus's eyes hardened. “You must not fall in love with him.” A strange chill ran through me. I almost smiled. “That won't be difficult.” But somehow, I didn't believe my own words. By the time I reached home that evening, rain had started falling. Our old gate groaned as I pushed it open. The house looked smaller than it had that morning. Maybe because I knew we were about to lose it. My younger sister, Mia, was sitting on the front steps with her phone in her hand. She quickly locked the screen when she saw me. “What happened?” I asked. “Nothing.” “Mia.” She looked away. I sat beside her. “Show me.” She hesitated before handing me the phone. Three messages. You have until Friday. After that, we come for you. Don't make us look for your sister instead. My heart stopped. I looked at Mia. “How long has this been happening?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I was going to handle it.” “You were going to handle it?” “I didn't want to worry you.” “Who did you borrow money from?” She didn't answer. “Mia!” “Dad owed them money!” The words hit me hard. “What?” She wiped her face. “Before he died. He borrowed money for the business. I found the papers after his funeral. They said the debt had been transferred to me.” I stared at her. Our father had been dead for eight months. There were still things about his death we didn't understand. Things I had pushed aside because surviving had been more important than asking questions. My phone rang. Unknown number. I answered. “Hello?” Silence. Then a man's voice. “Tell your sister the debt has been waiting long enough.” My blood ran cold. “Who is this?” A low laugh. “You'll know soon.” The call ended. Mia grabbed my arm. “Who was that?” I didn't answer. My mind went straight back to the million-dollar offer. Thirty days. Adrian Sterling. Victoria Laurent. A marriage built on a lie. I looked at my mother's bedroom window upstairs. Then at my sister. For years, I had been the one who fixed everything. But this time, there was nothing left to fix. Unless I accepted the deal. The next morning, I returned to Marcus. He was waiting in the same private office. “I'll do it,” I said. He studied me. “You understand what you're agreeing to?” “Yes.” “You understand that if Adrian discovers you're not Victoria before the thirty days are over, the agreement ends.” “I understand.” “And you cannot tell anyone.” I nodded. He placed a thick folder in front of me. “Your new identity.” I opened it. Victoria Laurent. Age twenty-six. Daughter of Laurent Group chairman. Fiancée of Adrian Sterling. Favorite food. Favorite perfume. Childhood memories. Friends. Family history. Everything I needed to pretend. I turned another page. There was a photograph of Victoria as a child. I froze. The room suddenly felt too quiet. Behind her stood an older man. My father. I blinked. “No.” Marcus frowned. “What is it?” I pointed at the photograph with a trembling finger. “That man.” He looked at the picture. Then back at me. “That's Victoria's father.” “No.” My voice barely came out. “That isn't what I mean.” I pulled the photograph closer. I knew that face. I had seen it in the last photograph my father kept hidden in his desk. The photograph he had refused to explain before he died. The man standing beside Victoria was not a stranger. He was someone my father had known. Someone connected to the final weeks of his life. My heart began pounding. “Marcus,” I whispered, “why is my father in Victoria Laurent's family photograph?” For the first time, the calm expression on his face disappeared. He reached across the desk and slowly took the photograph from my hands. Then he said something that made the blood drain from my face. “Because, Elena…” He paused. “Your father wasn't supposed to die.” I stared at him. “What?” Marcus locked the office door. “Your father was murdered.” My world tilted. And suddenly, I wasn't agreeing to pretend to be Victoria for money anymore. I was stepping into a secret that had already killed my father. And someone had just given me thirty days to become the next target.