The Substitute Bride of the CEO

I learned early in life that silence was safer than being heard. When you are the daughter no one talks about and the child that was introduced only when necessary, you grow up understanding that your existence is conditional. It is because of it that I learned how to keep my head low, how to read rooms before stepping into them, and how to disappear even while standing right in front of people, especially those important ones. That was how I survived the Alvarez household. It is probably the reason as well why, when my parents called me home that afternoon after years of keeping me at a careful distance—like a little kid that was born out of bad luck, I already knew they weren’t asking me to return out of affection. They wanted something… and in their eyes, I am the only one they can sacrifice to do or handle such thing. The air inside the main house felt heavier than I remembered. Polished marble floors reflected my uneasy footsteps, portraits of ancestors staring down at me like judges. Even after all this time, this place still made me feel like I was trespassing. It never became familiar no matter how many times I walk in this house and walk out of it. My mother sat on the couch, hands clasped tightly in her lap. My father lay slightly reclined, his breathing strained, a faint cough rattling in his chest every few seconds. Illness had shrunk him than I expected, turned him into a man who once ruled this family into someone fragile and impatient. “Elena,” my mother said, her tone brisk. “Sit.” I did—like an obedient child. There was no warmth in her voice. There never had been. “We don’t have much time,” my father said, skipping courtesies altogether. “The Valdes family has demanded an explanation.” The name made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. Valdes. Even living on the outskirts of this city, I knew who they were. It is possible that only a few percent don’t know such affluent family. Power. Wealth. Influence. A family name that carried weight in boardrooms and politics alike. And at the center of it—their heir. Rafael Enrique Valdes. I have never seen him personally, but I had seen his face on magazine covers I never bothered to read. He is well-renowned bachelor whose name and face are seen almost everywhere. A man everyone admired, wanted, and speculated about. A man who belonged to a world I had never been allowed to touch… even if I bear the name Alvarez. “I don’t understand,” I said carefully. “What does this have to do with me?” My mother’s fingers tightened. “Your sister,” she said, as if the word itself tasted bitter in her mouth. “She’s gone.” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, but I remained stoic. Somehow, I am starting to get the idea why I am called here. “She ran away,” my father added coldly. “The marriage was scheduled to take place in less than three weeks, and she has disappeared.” I closed my eyes briefly. Of course she had. As she has always been. My sister, Althea Nicole Alvarez—the cherished daughter, the pride of the Alvarez family, the one who had been raised with expectations and indulgence—had always had the luxury of choice. She has always been the face and the future of the family ever since she had no choice but to step in. Defying an arranged marriage was reckless, yes, but not unimaginable for her. “What do you plan to do?” I asked quietly. My mother stood up, heels clicking sharply against the floor as she paced. “The Valdes family will not tolerate public humiliation. Our company is already on the brink of collapse. Your father’s condition—” she gestured sharply toward father, “—cannot withstand another blow.” The words stacked neatly, one on top of the other, forming something dangerous. I straightened my seat. “You’re not asking me to find her,” I said. “Probably, I am your last option as well to be the one to convince her to return.” My mother stopped pacing. She turned to look at me, her gaze sharp and assessing, as if measuring the value of an item she had long neglected. “No,” she said. “We’re asking you to replace her.” The room went unbearably quiet. For a moment, I thought I had misheard her. My brows furrowed and I doubted her words. Me? The daughter that they neglected and saw as bad luck, the one who was never introduced formally to anyone. Most of all, the daughter they wished to wipe her existence if it was only possible—they want me to replace the daughter they have always been proud of? “Replace… her?” I repeated. My father cleared his throat. “You look similar enough. The difference in your eyes is barely noticeable. Makeup and styling can take care of the rest.” I stared at them, disbelief flooding through me. “You want me to marry him,” I said slowly. “Pretending to be my sister.” My mother nodded. “Only in name. You won’t be required to do anything beyond carrying the title of Mrs. Valdes. Once the marriage stabilizes the partnership and saves the company, you’ll be free.” Free. The word echoed hollowly in my mind. Such a dream come true. “You told me I was a bad omen,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to stay calm. “You sent me away because your son died saving my life. And now… now you want me back because my face is useful?” My father looked away. “This is not the time for sentiment,” my mother snapped. “This is business.” Of course it was. It has always been. My feelings were never valid and once they were done with me, I am to be sent back to the countryside they had always caged me into. Nothing changed, no matter how many favors I do on their behalf. I laughed softly, the sound breakable. “And what happens when she comes back? When the truth comes out?” “It won’t,” my father said firmly. “The marriage can be annulled quietly. Your sister will take her rightful place. No one has to know.” I swallowed. “And what about me?” I asked. It was the most important question for me. I had always been willing to do what they asked me for because I expected that I would get something valuable in return, but I was always disappointed. I am not going to let that happen again. My mother’s expression hardened. “You will get what you asked for years ago.” my gaze sharped on her. “Your freedom. A clean break. Enough money to disappear if you wish.” Disappear. I had already been doing that my entire life. Shouldn’t they be aware of that? Before I could respond, my phone vibrated in my hand. A number I hadn’t seen in years flashed on the screen. My sister. My mother noticed and frowned. “Answer it.” I stood up abruptly, stepping out of the room before they could stop me. My hands trembled as I pressed the phone to my ear. [“Elena?”] her voice came through, breathless and strained. [“It’s me.”] “I know,” I said quietly. [“I—I heard they found out,”] she said, panic thick in her tone. [“I didn’t know who else to call.”] Of course she hadn’t. “You ran away,” I said with a heavy sigh. Not accusing. Just stating a fact. [“I couldn’t do it,”] she burst out. [“I can’t marry someone I don’t love. You know what this family is like—once you’re married, there’s no escape.”] I closed my eyes. “Then why call me?” I asked softly. There was a pause. [“Elena,”] she said, her voice lowering, [“You don’t want anything from them. You’ve always wanted to leave for good. If you take my place… they’ll have no reason to hold onto you after.”] The words struck deeper than I expected. But at the same time, it sounded like I am her puppet… again. “You want me to fix this for you,” I said. “Again.” [“I’m sorry,”] she whispered. [“But you’re stronger than me.”] No. That is what they all thought. I had just learned how to endure. [“They’ll never let you be happy,”] she continued desperately. [“But you—you don’t care about love, right? This is just a name. A contract.”] I opened my eyes and stared at the empty hallway, at the framed photos that never included me. The sting, it never left. It still feels the same way. “I care,” I said. “I’ve just learned not to expect.” Silence lingered between us. [“Please,”] she said at last. [“Just… think about it. If I go back, I’ll lose everything.”] So would I. But somehow, that had never mattered to them before. When I returned to the living room, my parents looked up expectantly. “I’ll do it,” I said. My mother released a breath she had clearly been holding. My father nodded, relief washing over his tired face. Once again, they are relieved—because I am sacrificing something for them again… and this time, this sacrifice will either cage me more or make me free. “There will be conditions,” I continued, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Once this is over, you will let me go. No interference. No demands. No more family obligations.” My mother hesitated, looking at me as if I said something she is madly against with. “I want it in writing,” I added. “And I want my own residence. I will not be treated like a servant in that household.” My father finally spoke. “Agreed.” I felt nothing. No triumph. No dread. Just an overwhelming calm that came from making a choice I had been trained to accept, not want. “I’m not doing this for love,” I said. “I’m doing this so I can finally leave.” My mother nodded briskly, already reaching for her phone. “The Valdes family will be informed.” As I turned toward the door, my sister’s words echoed in my mind. This is just a name. A contract. I believed that. I believed that as I stepped out of the Alvarez house, knowing that I had just agreed to become someone else’s bride— not because I was chosen, but because I was replaceable. And yet, somewhere deep inside me, a quiet voice whispered the truth I refused to acknowledge: Some choices change your life… even when you never wanted them to.