Episode 3
1088 Words
Rain fell in steady sheets, drowning the sound of footsteps as Elena stood in the empty bridal suite. The veil on the floor still carried the scent of perfume—Camila’s perfume. But the bride was nowhere to be found.
“Elena, she’s gone,” Natalia’s voice cracked as she entered, dress slightly askew, panic in her eyes. “Camila ran. She left a note. She can’t go through with it.”
Elena blinked. “What?”
Natalia shoved a crumpled piece of paper into her hand.
I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Forgive me.
The door opened again. Camila’s father stepped in, flanked by two imposing security men. His face was pale, his suit stiff. “Where is she?”
Silence.
He turned to Elena. “You’ll take her place.”
The words hit like thunder.
“What?” Elena’s voice was barely a whisper.
“She’s gone. We have investors flying in. Media. Your family owes everything to mine. You will marry Rafael.”
“But”
“No one will know. We’ll say it’s Camila. The veil stays on until the ceremony’s over. You’ll sign the papers. Then we’ll fix it.”
Fix it. Like Elena was a broken thing.
She looked at Natalia, who gave a helpless shrug.
“I’m not Camila.”
“You’re close enough,” he said flatly.
Elena stood before the mirror, the dress heavy against her skin. She touched the lace at her collarbone, fighting the tremble in her hands. Her heart thundered like a wild drum.
Someone knocked.
“Time,” a voice called from outside.
Her knees almost buckled.
Downstairs, the hall buzzed with anticipation. Guests thought Camila was behind the veil. None suspected the switch.
And then she saw him Rafael.
He stood at the altar like a shadow in a storm. Tall. Unreadable. Distant. His dark eyes flicked toward her as she approached, but there was no recognition. No surprise.
They said he was poor. Powerless. Some whispered he was only chosen for business convenience. Elena had never met him before.
The ceremony began. Words blurred. Vows recited like lines from a play.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Rafael hesitated.
She held her breath.
He leaned in. Cool lips brushed hers. Soft, short. Barely a kiss.
And in that brief moment, his voice touched her ear.
“I know you’re not Camila.”
She flinched. “What?”
He took her hand and turned them both toward the crowd, smiling tightly for the cameras.
“You heard me.”
He guided her down the aisle, whispers trailing behind them. Photos flashed. Applause rose.
The second they stepped out of view, Rafael let go of her hand.
“You have two seconds to tell me who you are.”
“I didn’t plan this,” Elena said, voice trembling. “She left. Her father made me take her place.”
“And you agreed?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
He gave a sharp laugh. “There’s always a choice. Even if it’s the wrong one.”
They entered the waiting car. Silence. Cold air between them.
“I’ll fix it,” she said.
Rafael turned his head, his tone ice. “You already broke it.”
The car sped toward the private estate, moonlight casting silver streaks through the windows.
Elena sat stiffly, her hands clasped in her lap. Rafael didn’t speak.
Finally, she asked, “Are you angry?”
“No,” he said simply. “Angry means I care.”
That stung.
“I never wanted this,” she said.
“Neither did I.”
They reached the estate. A sprawling mansion, much too grand for a man supposedly poor.
Elena blinked. “This is your house?”
He gave her a look. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”
A maid showed her to a room. Not the master. Rafael disappeared without a word.
Elena stared at the gold-trimmed mirror, pulled off the veil, and exhaled.
Her phone buzzed. Natalia.
Did he find out?
She texted back. Yes.
No reply came.
She changed into a robe and wandered toward the library. The door was open.
Rafael sat at a desk, wine glass in hand, eyes cold.
“I should annul this,” he said without looking up. “But you interest me.”
Her stomach twisted.
“Why?”
“You’re pretending. But your eyes—your eyes tell me you’re afraid and honest all at once. That’s rare.”
The next morning, the media exploded.
“Camila and Rafael Tie the Knot in Secret Ceremony!”
Elena’s face was hidden in every shot. The plan worked.
Rafael stood in the kitchen, sipping coffee, wearing low-slung pajama pants and no shirt. Elena tried not to stare.
“You’ll play the role,” he said.
“What if I don’t?”
He stepped closer. “Then your family loses everything. And I expose the truth.”
She glared. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Maybe.” He smirked. “You’re an interesting wife.”
They attended a gala. Elena wore Camila’s dress. Cameras followed every move.
Rafael held her waist like it belonged to him.
“You’re playing this well,” he whispered, lips near her ear.
“Maybe I’m just that good,” she shot back.
He chuckled. “You’re trouble.”
Later, in the car, he reached for her hand.
“I thought you didn’t care,” she said.
“Maybe I don’t,” he murmured.
But he didn’t let go.
A figure appeared at the edge of the estate. Elena saw him from her window. She crept out to investigate.
“Camila?” she whispered.
No answer.
The figure vanished. Her phone rang.
An unknown number.
“Leave while you still can.”
Rafael’s demeanor changed after that night. Guarded. Restless.
Elena found him staring at an old photo in his office.
“Who’s she?”
He looked up. “No one.”
“You lie well.”
He smiled without warmth. “So do you.”
A thunderstorm hit. Power flickered. Elena stood in the hallway, soaked from running in the rain after spotting the figure again.
Rafael found her. “What were you doing outside?”
“Someone’s watching us.”
He didn’t speak. Just pulled her close. His mouth crashed into hers.
Hot. Demanding. Real.
When he pulled away, he looked shaken.
“This... wasn’t part of the plan.”
Neither could breathe.
Then glass shattered downstairs.
Someone had broken in.
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