The next day came without mercy.
Audrey lay curled on the cold marble floor, knees pulled tightly to her chest, arms wrapped around herself as though she could keep herself from falling apart if she held on hard enough. The room smelled faintly of lavender and expensive polish, but none of it felt comforting. Nothing did.
Her eyes were fixed on the tiny statue on the bedside table.
She couldn't remember when it had been placed there. Maybe it had always been in the room—one of those meaningless decorative things rich people collected to fill empty spaces. Or maybe it was deliberate. A symbol. A reminder that this room was never hers.
Tomorrow was the wedding.
The thought passed through her mind again, slow and unreal, like a sentence spoken in a language she barely understood.
Tomorrow, she would marry her sister's fiancé.
Her chest tightened.
She had overheard her mother earlier that morning, whispering anxiously into her phone. Kellan had been meant to visit yesterday. He hadn't shown up. That alone unsettled Audrey more than she cared to admit.
Kellan Vance was not the kind of man who missed obligations.
If he committed to something, he followed through—unless the person demanding his presence was smaller than him in power. And there were only two people in the world who stood above Kellan Vance.
His parents.
The silence in the room was broken by a soft knock on the massive door.
Audrey didn't move immediately. She didn't jump or flinch. She simply lifted her head slowly, unwillingly, as though even acknowledging the sound cost her something.
An elderly woman stepped inside. She wore a lavender apron tied neatly around her waist and a kitchen bonnet that hid most of her gray hair. Her hands were clasped together nervously, and she stood near the door as if unsure whether she was allowed to enter fully.
A staff member, Audrey assumed. A cleaner. Someone who didn't belong here—just like her.
"Miss Audrey," the woman said carefully, her tone overly gentle, as though Audrey might snap at her if she spoke too loudly.
"Yes?" Audrey replied flatly.
"Your breakfast is ready."
"I'm not hungry." Audrey pushed herself into a sitting position, her voice hoarse from crying she refused to remember.
The woman hesitated, then sighed quietly. "It's actually not a choice, miss."
Audrey looked up sharply.
"The rest of the family is waiting for you."
Family?
"Yes," the woman added quickly. "Your parents… and Mr Kellan's."
Audrey's eyes narrowed slightly as suspicion crept in. How did this woman know her name? How did she know Kellan? And why did she say family like Audrey truly belonged among them?
"I'll be down in twenty minutes," Audrey said, forcing herself to stand.
The woman nodded in relief and left without another word.
Audrey moved stiffly, gathering the duvet she had thrown aside the night before. She picked up the napkin soaked with tears and snot and shoved it into the trash, disgust twisting her stomach. She showered quickly, dressed mechanically, and stared at her reflection for a moment longer than necessary.
The girl in the mirror looked hollow.
Fifteen minutes later, she was ready.
The hotel felt unnatural—too quiet, too controlled. It was obvious the entire floor had been reserved solely for the Vance family. No laughter. No footsteps. Just polished silence.
A staff member led her through long hallways into an extravagant dining area filled with soft lighting and glass tables.
Her eyes found him immediately.
Kellan.
He was already seated, dressed impeccably as always, posture straight, expression unreadable.
He came?
The realization left her half disappointed, half surprised. Some foolish part of her had hoped he would refuse this madness. But if he could accept it, then who was she to fight?
She scoffed quietly and pulled out a chair beside her father.
"Good morning," Audrey said, her head lowered.
Her father placed his palm over hers, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze.
"Audrey, dear," he said gently. "How was your night?"
"Awful," she replied honestly—sharp, but not disrespectful.
"I believe we're all in the same situation," Mr. Vance said smoothly.
Audrey looked up.
"I'll go straight to the point so as not to waste anyone's time." His gaze moved between faces. "Clara. Harrison. Audrey."
Mrs. Eleanor Vance folded her hands gracefully on the table.
"We sincerely apologize for everything that has occurred recently," Mr. Vance continued. "And we can only hope Anya recovers soon."
Audrey's chest ached at her sister's name.
"My family believes it's best to put things in order," he went on. "Kellan insists this arrangement be handled contractually. I agree."
He slid a folder across the table—directly toward Audrey.
Her fingers hovered over it.
"This marriage," Mrs. Eleanor added calmly, "is strictly temporary."
Audrey's breath hitched.
"The moment Anya—our true daughter-in-law—awakens," Mr. Vance said, "the contract is terminated."
Audrey laughed, strained and bitter. "Did you really think I'd want this for a lifetime?"
"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Eleanor replied coolly.
"Your parents are fully aware of all aspects of this decision," Mr. Vance said. "We simply didn't wish to leave you in the dark."
"I am in the dark," Audrey snapped, her composure cracking. "My parents suddenly can't answer any of my questions. I deserve to know why I'm doing this."
"Audrey!" her mother scolded sharply.
Mr. Vance cleared his throat. "Review the contract. If anything concerns you, you may discuss it with my son."
Audrey's eyes lifted.
He was already looking at her.
There was no warmth in his gaze. No pity. Only irritation—perhaps even disgust.
She looked away.
"The wedding proceeds tomorrow morning," Mrs. Eleanor said as she stood. "Do not disappoint us."
They left together, perfectly synchronized.
Soon after, Audrey's parents excused themselves too.
Only Audrey and Kellan remained.
The silence pressed heavily between them.
"Do you know why they're doing this?" Audrey asked quietly, her voice trembling despite her effort to remain composed.
Kellan scoffed as he stood.
"Play your part," he said coldly. "I'll play mine."
He adjusted his suit, checked his phone, and turned to leave.
Just before exiting, he paused.
"Don't think of wearing her gown," he said without looking back.
The door closed softly behind him.
And Audrey finally broke.