Fake Wedding Dress

The pounding on the old wooden door sounded like a martyr’s gavel, ready to bring down the very foundation of the house. Aluna gripped the hem of her thin, faded t-shirt, her breath hitching behind the vibrating wood. Outside, coarse shouts and profanities filled the damp, stifling evening air. "Come out, Haris! Don't be a coward! Pay your debts now, or we’ll level this house to the ground!" The voice belonged to a massive man with a left arm sleeved in tattoos. He was the one who had been laying siege to their home since morning. Aluna glanced toward the corner of the living room. Her mother knelt on the floor, sobbing silently, while her father sat frozen. Haris looked as pale as a sheet, his hands shaking violently. With his heart condition, the pressure could trigger an attack at any moment. "Dad, we have to call the police," Aluna whispered, her voice nearly swallowed by the commotion outside. Haris shook his head weakly. "It’s useless, Luna. I signed those papers. They have legal counsel behind them. The police can’t do anything against a valid contract." Crash! A heavy kick slammed into the door, making the hinges groan in agony. Aluna squeezed her eyes shut. If that wood gave way, they were finished. Those debt collectors didn't look like the type to shy away from physical violence. Suddenly, the screech of tires against asphalt echoed from the gate. A loud, authoritative horn pierced the tension, causing the thugs' shouting to stop abruptly. Aluna dared to peek through a gap in the dusty curtains. A sleek, metallic black luxury sedan had pulled up right in front of the feral crowd. The door opened, and a woman stepped out with an elegant stride that stood in stark contrast to the dilapidated surroundings. She wore oversized sunglasses, a designer blazer, and high heels that clicked against the cement floor in a rhythm that demanded absolute attention. "Alika?" Aluna hissed. The woman, Alika, was Aluna’s identical twin. But where Aluna was calm, clear water, Alika was a blinding fire. Alika marched through the crowd of debt collectors with her chin held high, as if their sweat and threats were merely minor pollution she had to pass through. "How much do you want?" Alika’s voice was sharp and cold as she stood before the leader. "Three billion, gorgeous. Plus the ongoing interest," the leader replied with a condescending smirk. "You planning to pay with that pretty smile?" Alika didn't flinch. She reached into her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out a signed check, and tossed it against the man's chest. "Take this to the bank. Get out of here and don’t ever dare touch this gate again, or you’ll be dealing with the Pradipta family lawyers." At the mention of the name 'Pradipta', the thugs' courage seemed to wither instantly. They traded looks, verified the check, and slowly retreated with dissatisfied grunts. As soon as their car sped away, Alika stepped inside and slammed the door behind her. "Alika! Thank God you’re here," their mother cried, rising to embrace her favorite daughter. But Alika pulled away. Her face, which had seemed so powerful moments ago, was now a cracking mask of panic. Her breath was shallow. She removed her sunglasses, revealing dark circles under her eyes that had been masked by heavy makeup. "I didn't come to save you for free," Alika said curtly. Her eyes locked onto Aluna, who was still standing like a statue by the window. "I’m in deep trouble, Luna. Trouble far bigger than three billion." Aluna stepped closer, a sense of dread crawling up her spine. "What do you mean? You mentioned the Pradiptas. What do you have to do with them?" Alika let out a hollow laugh, a sound like shattering glass. "I made a deal with Arka Pradipta. You know who he is, right? The CEO of Pradipta Group. The man nicknamed the 'Devil of the Capital.' He needs a wife to fix his image for an overseas acquisition, and I, I needed his money to cover a failed investment in Singapore." "You’re married to Arka Pradipta?" Haris asked, his voice hoarse. "Not yet. But I’ve already signed the contract in my name." Alika paced the cramped living room, her expensive manicured fingers trembling. "The problem is, Arka isn't a normal man. He’s meticulous, possessive, and cold. And this morning, I got word that my old investors are hunting me with death threats because their money is gone. I have to leave the country tonight to hide. If I stay, they’ll kill me. But if I don’t show up for the contract wedding tonight, Arka Pradipta will destroy this family to its very roots." A suffocating silence fell over the room. Aluna felt her heart stop for a beat. She knew exactly where this was going. "No," Aluna said firmly. "Don’t say it, Alika." Alika fell to her knees in front of Aluna, gripping her twin's hands tightly. "Luna, please. Only you can do this. Our faces are identical. No one will know. You just need to take my place for a few months until things are safe, until I can send money to buy out the contract." "You’re insane! That’s fraud!" Aluna tried to pull her hands away, but Alika only gripped them harder. "This isn't about fraud anymore, Luna! It’s about lives!" Alika screamed in frustration. "That three billion? That was just a fraction of the debt I took out in Mom and Dad’s names without them knowing. If I leave and no one takes my place with Arka, he will sue us into oblivion. Dad will go to prison at his age. Can you really stand to see Dad die behind bars?" Aluna looked at her father, who was now bowing his head, tears dripping onto his wrinkled hands. She looked at her mother, who could only weep in misery. A crushing weight hit Aluna’s chest. All her life, she had been the one to sacrifice. When Alika wanted to study abroad, Aluna worked part-time to help with the costs. When Alika wanted to start businesses and failed repeatedly, Aluna was the one cleaning up the mess at home. And now, Alika was asking for her life. "Why does it have to be me, Alika?" Aluna asked, her voice trembling. "Why do you always throw the embers at me while you enjoy the light?" "Because you are the better version of me, Luna," Alika whispered manipulatively, though a spark of genuine desperation flickered in her eyes. "Arka doesn't want love. He just wants a perfect wife for the public. You just have to stay quiet, follow his rules, and everything will be fine." "I don't know the man! What if he finds out?" "He won't. He almost never met me in person. Everything went through his assistant. This marriage is just on paper, Luna. A business. No feelings, no touching. Just signatures and public appearances." Alika stood up and pulled a large suitcase she had left by the door. She flung it open. Inside, a white wedding gown of staggering luxury shimmered, seemingly mocking the poverty of the room. Silk, pearl sequins, and intricate French lace—a symbol of wealth that felt like a noose to Aluna. "Put this on," Alika commanded, her voice shifting back to an undeniable authority. "The glam team is waiting at a hotel near the airport. I’ve arranged everything. Once you’ve finished transforming into me, I’m leaving." Aluna stared at the dress with vacant eyes. To her, the white fabric didn't look like bridal wear. It looked like a shroud that would bury her entire future and identity. "Luna." Her mother approached, touching Aluna’s shoulder hesitantly. "Forgive us, dear. I know this isn't fair, but your father." Aluna squeezed her eyes shut. Tears finally traced paths down her cheeks. She felt trapped in a labyrinth where the walls were closing in. On one side was her freedom. On the other were the lives and honor of her parents. And Alika, her own twin, was the one person who knew exactly where her greatest weakness lay. "How long?" Aluna asked finally, her voice sounding hollow. Alika exhaled in relief, a thin victory smile touching her blood-red lips. "Six months. Give me six months to fix the mess out there. After that, we’ll find a way for you to leave." Aluna knew it was likely a lie. But right now, she had no other choice. "Fine," Aluna whispered. "I’ll do it. But remember one thing, Alika, from this second on, I don't owe you anything." Alika ignored the warning. She immediately pulled Aluna toward the car, as if afraid her twin would change her mind. Throughout the drive to the hotel, Aluna only stared out the window, watching the city landscape begin to sparkle with evening lights. She felt like she was watching her own world fade away, replaced by a foreign world full of hidden thorns. In the vast hotel penthouse, Aluna was forced to sit before a grand mirror. A team of makeup artists and hairstylists moved with incredible speed, working on her face and hair as if she were a piece of art that needed polishing. They masked Aluna’s softness with sharp, bold makeup, Alika’s signature look. Her hair, usually in a simple ponytail, was styled into an elegant, rigid modern bun. At seven in the evening, Alika entered the room, already dressed in casual clothes for her escape. She stared at Aluna’s reflection in the mirror and froze for a moment. "Perfect," Alika whispered. "Even I can hardly tell the difference." Alika handed over a black leather folder containing important documents and a brand-new smartphone. "This is everything on Arka Pradipta. His schedule, his habits, and what he likes. Study it in the car. His assistant will pick you up in ten minutes." Without a sincere goodbye, Alika gave Aluna a brief peck on the cheek and stepped out of the room, leaving her twin in a suffocating silence. Now, Aluna stood alone in front of the full-length mirror. She wore a wedding gown that felt incredibly heavy, as if every sequin were made of lead. Aluna’s trembling hand touched the brocade over her chest. Her heart hammered, creating a rhythm of fear that vied with the sound of the wall clock. She was no longer Aluna, the simple girl who dreamed of being an art teacher. Starting tonight, she was Alika Pradipta, the wife of the most feared man in the business world. A knock sounded at the door. "Mrs. Alika? The car is ready. Mr. Arka is already waiting at the ceremony location." Aluna took a long, deep breath, trying to gather what little courage she had left. She stared at her reflection one last time, realizing that from this moment on, she had sold her entire life upon a pact of embers she hadn't even started. With a heavy step and a broken heart, Aluna walked out toward the darkness that awaited her.