Chapter 3
1253 Words
"Smile. Always."
"Speak only when you're spoken to."
"And don't hesitate to say I do."
Mary's voice was soft but sharp as a blade, her motherly tone laced with warning. Isla nodded and forced a smile, the corners of her lips trembling slightly.
Everyone was shocked to see her happy-or at least pretending to be. Even her father looked satisfied for once, his face bright as he murmured to her mother across the room.
Today was supposed to be her wedding day.
Her perfect day.
But for Isla, it was hell dressed in white silk.
Francesca stood beside her, carefully adjusting the veil with gentle fingers. Their eyes met in the mirror. There was no need for words. In that brief stare, they were both calculating, silently reaffirming what had already been planned behind closed doors.
"It's almost time," someone announced from the doorway.
The room shifted. People began moving, voices echoing softly with excitement.
But Isla's heart beat for something else entirely.
Not for vows.
Not for promises.
But for freedom.
"Can I have a few moments with Francesca, please?" Isla asked, her voice calm but careful, her eyes flicking toward her father.
Victor Navarro's expression hardened instantly, the lines of disapproval deepening on his face. He was about to refuse when Mary placed a gentle hand on his arm.
"Let them talk," she said softly. "Just for a few minutes."
Victor hesitated, his sharp eyes darting between the two sisters. Finally, he gave a curt nod, though his suspicion lingered.
"Fine," he said slowly. Then he looked directly at Francesca, his gaze pointed.
"Don't take too long."
Francesca gave him a small, reassuring smile. "We won't."
Victor exhaled through his nose, still unconvinced, but allowed himself to be guided out by Mary.
"Hurry up," he muttered before stepping through the doorway.
The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving only the sisters in the quiet room.
The air instantly felt different, lighter but heavier at the same time.
Francesca turned to Isla. "It's time"
Isla nodded slowly, her fingers trembling as she held onto the edge of her veil.
Isla and Francesca had always been confused for twins growing up. They shared the same soft golden-blonde hair, a striking contrast to their other sisters, who were all brunettes. Their features were nearly identical, the only difference being in their eyes, Francesca's a cool gray, Isla's a warm brown.
"Thank you so much," Isla whispered as soon as she was out of the wedding dress, relief washing over her like a fragile wave.
"I would do anything for you," Francesca murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her sister's head.
Now it was Francesca standing in the wedding gown, the heavy veil cascading over her face. With the veil in place, no one could clearly see the bride's features. From a distance, she looked exactly like Isla.
It was the perfect illusion.
Francesca adjusted the veil carefully, making sure it fell low enough to shadow her face. From the mirror, she looked every bit like the bride everyone expected to see.
She turned to Isla, her gray eyes calm but firm. "Go. Don't look back. I'll handle everything here."
Isla's lips trembled. "Thank you."
Francesca gave her a small, reassuring smile and squeezed her hand. "You deserve better than this. Run, Isla. Run and don't stop."
That was all Isla needed to hear.
She didn't take anything, not a bag, not money, not even a phone. Just the thin white shawl Francesca draped over her shoulders to hide the gown she had put on which was under her wedding dress before.
And then she was gone.
She slipped out through the side door of the bridal suite and into the quiet, empty hallway. The voices from the grand hall echoed faintly in the distance, music starting, guests chatting. No one noticed her as she bolted down the servants' staircase, her heart thundering in her chest.
The mansion's back door creaked open, and cool air hit her face.
Then she ran.
Her heels clicked furiously against the stone path at first, but she didn't stop to take them off. She just kept running, breathless and frantic, down the winding garden path that led toward the gates.
She didn't know where she was going. She didn't care.
All she knew was she couldn't be there when they realized the bride standing at the altar wasn't her.
The ceremony moved quickly.
Mario stood at the altar, expression bored and detached, barely glancing at the veiled figure approaching him. To him, it was just another formality, a deal to seal, nothing more.
Francesca's steps were graceful and deliberate, her face completely hidden beneath the heavy veil. She kept her composure, even as her heart pounded beneath the gown that wasn't hers.
Victor Navarro watched with satisfaction, his lips curved into a rare smile. Mary stood beside him, hands clasped in quiet triumph. Around them, guests murmured in admiration at the lavish display.
Finally, Francesca reached the altar.
The priest began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony..."
Mario barely listened. He just wanted it over with. His dark eyes flicked toward the priest, then the bride, then back again.
And then the moment came.
"You may now remove the veil."
Mario stepped closer, lifting his hand lazily to peel it away.
The sheer fabric slid back slowly... revealing a face.
But not the one anyone expected.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd.
Victor's satisfied smile vanished instantly. Mary's hand flew to her mouth in shock.
It wasn't Isla standing there.
It was Francesca.
Her gray eyes met Mario's stunned ones, calm but defiant.
"What the hell is this?" Mario hissed, his voice low but furious.
Whispers erupted through the crowd. Guests turned to each other in confusion. Victor surged to his feet, his face flushing red with anger.
"Where is she?" he barked, his voice booming through the hall. "Where is Isla?!"
But Francesca said nothing.
Because by now... Isla was long gone.
~~
Isla ran faster, her breath tearing through her lungs like fire. She had just slipped out of the private estate, taking the hidden path she and Francesca had used as children whenever they wanted to escape the suffocating walls of their family home.
But this time wasn't play.
This time, she wasn't coming back.
She didn't know where her feet were carrying her. She only knew she had to keep moving, far away from the mansion, far away from the people who would drag her back into that gilded cage.
Her chest tightened with panic. She had nothing. No money. No bag. No plan. And she hadn't taken her phone because she knew it would be the first thing they used to find her.
The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of rain.
And then it started.
First, a soft drizzle that cooled her burning skin. Then, within seconds, a heavy downpour, soaking through the thin shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
Her golden-blonde hair clung wet and heavy to her face. Tears blurred with raindrops as she stumbled across the unfamiliar road. Her legs trembled, her vision dimming from exhaustion.
She didn't hear the car approaching.
Its headlights cut through the sheets of rain, but she was too lost in her frantic haze to notice.
The screech of tires came too late.
A blinding flash of pain. A hard impact.
And then-nothing.
Everything went black.
- Writer
