Melissa's POV.
Helen? Dead?
The words hit like a wall and bounced off. My heart refused to accept them. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out—just a suffocating silence.
I was standing right there, in the middle of the Langtons' sprawling living room, but everything around me felt hollow. Even the ticking of the grandfather clock sounded deafening.
I sank onto the edge of a velvet chair, my chest tight.
She was supposed to get married tomorrow.
It was a marriage she had dreaded—a sacrifice for her family's business. She had cried to me just last week, confessing she was leaving behind a boyfriend of three years. But she had sounded so hopeful anyway, whispering that one day, both of us would finally escape her parents' clutches.
Helen wasn't just my employer's daughter.
She was the girl who split her lunch with me in high school when my family had nothing. She was the one who bullied her mother into paying my college tuition so I wouldn't be left behind. She even opened a secret savings account in her name, squirreling away money so I could one day live independently. Helen was the only real warmth I had ever known in this freezing house.
And now she was gone.
Tears finally broke free, running hot down my numb face.
"She didn't want to come back," Mrs. Langton said, breaking into my thoughts. Her voice was broken, stripped of its usual sharp edge. "If only I hadn't let her father talk her into this… If I had stood my ground…"
Mr. Langton was standing near the fireplace, staring into the unlit hearth. He looked physically sick, the heavy lines of guilt pulling his face down. He opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but the words died in his throat.
"You pushed her into this marriage!" Mrs. Langton cried out, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "She didn't want it. She was happy abroad. Why didn't we just let her live her life?"
It felt like watching a dynasty unravel right in front of me. All their money, all their power—suddenly entirely useless. And for a fleeting second, I almost pitied them.
As if sensing the ugly turn the conversation was about to take, the butler quietly ushered the remaining servants out, giving the family their privacy and shielding the staff from whatever came next.
When the heavy oak doors clicked shut, the silence was suffocating.
Then, Mrs. Langton slowly looked up. Her tear-streaked eyes locked onto mine.
The grief in them suddenly shifted into something else. Something calculating. Desperate.
My spine stiffened before she even opened her mouth.
"Melissa," she said, her voice dropping to a shaky whisper as she clutched a silk cushion to her chest. "You must help us."
I frowned, wiping a tear away. "Help you? How?"
Mr. Langton finally turned away from the fireplace. He took a hesitant step forward, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. He looked at me, then quickly looked away, unable to meet my eyes. "Don't involve Melissa in this, Martha. It's… it's going too far."
But his wife ignored his weak protest completely. She crawled forward a few inches on the Persian rug, gripping the cushion tighter like a lifeline.
"The wedding," Mrs. Langton breathed out, her eyes wide and frantic. "It still has to happen tomorrow. The groom's family… they will destroy us if we back out now."
I blinked, thoroughly confused. "But Helen is…"
"I know," she cut in, her voice cracking. "Which is why you are the only one who can save this family."
The air in the room seemed to vanish. I stared at her, waiting for the punchline of a very sick joke. "Save you? What are you talking about?"
She let out a ragged breath. "You have to…"
She swallowed.
"Take Helen's place."
My brain flatlined. "What?"
A broken, confused laugh escaped my throat. "That's insane."
"It's not," she rushed out, her words tumbling over each other. "They don't know what she looks like. No photos were ever shared—it was a strict condition of the groom's family. You could pass. Just until it's over. It's just a business deal. Six months. He gets his inheritance, we get the alliance."
My heart hammered against my ribs. I stared at the woman on the floor, absolutely horrified. Her daughter wasn't even buried yet, and she was already strategizing.
I pulled my knees back, putting distance between us. I stood up, my legs trembling violently.
Take Helen's place?
The reality of what she was asking crashed down on me, heavy and terrifying. Helen had been terrified of this man. She had cried in my arms, calling the groom's family ruthless monsters who bought her like property. And Mrs. Langton wanted me to walk into that cage? To lie to a man who could crush me with a snap of his fingers? If he found out I was a fake, he wouldn't just divorce me. Men like that made people disappear.
"You want me to pretend to be Helen? Marry a dangerous stranger?" I whispered, the absurdity of it choking me. "So this is about the alliance… the money?"
She shook her head, fresh tears spilling over.
"To save us," she pleaded. "If we don't go through with this, we lose everything. We won't even be able to bury her properly. The penalties will destroy us. We could face charges. Helen loved you like a sister… and so did we. Please, Melissa. You owe us this much."
You owe us. The words hit exactly the way she intended them to. A cold, heavy reminder of every meal, every textbook, every dollar they had ever spent on me.
I didn't wait to hear more. I couldn't. I turned and practically ran for the door, my mind reeling.
The bitter winter cold hit me the second I stepped outside, but I didn't stop. I walked toward the main road, completely blind to my surroundings, desperate to get away from the madness in that house.
"I'm doing this because I have to, but one day, we'll both be free."
When I finally reached my cramped, freezing apartment, I didn't even bother turning on the lights. The radiator had been broken for weeks, leaving the air inside biting and stale. I collapsed onto the worn couch, pulling a thin, frayed blanket over my knees, curling into a tight ball in the dark.
My hands were freezing, but I didn't move. I just let the silence wrap around me, waiting to wake up from this nightmare.
I was still sitting there in the dark when my phone suddenly vibrated against my thigh, the screen lighting up the gloomy room.
At first, I didn't recognize the number.
Then my stomach dropped.
The hospital's name glowed on the screen.
Hospitals never called with good news.
I scrambled to swipe the screen, my heart in my throat. "Hello?"
"Miss Melissa," a woman said on the other end, her tone rushed but gentle. "You need to come immediately. It's your mother. Her condition has suddenly worsened."
And just like that, the floor beneath me gave out completely. One loss hadn't even settled, and another was already breaking down my door.