The Vale mansion stood eerily atop a hill, bathed in moonlight. Thunder roared in the distance, signalling the coming rain. As Syrena stared out the large glass window, watching drops of water fall across its surface, she wondered to herself how long her family would take to admit that they could no longer afford to stay here.
The gold chandeliers still glittered, but their light bulbs were cracked and old. The grand piano sat in the corner of the hall, left untouched for years. The air carried the faint smell of roses and old bills, a dozen papers scattered all over the place all bearing in red, the debts that her family was slowly drowning in.
Tonight, Syrena sat at the long mahogany dining table with her hands clenched into fists by her side as she listened to what her adoptive parents had to say.
"We can't hold them off any longer, Mirabelle. The creditors want their money now. The board is threatening to sell what's left of our estate." Her father's voice was a low growl of defeat.
"We are going to be ruined! Our name has stood for three generations for prestige, power and wealth! This is all your fault, you have gambled our fortune away!" Syrena's adoptive mother, Mirabelle spat out vehemently. Her mother clutched her wine glass like it was the only thing that could anchor her in at that moment. Her bloodshot eyes were red and her silk nightdress was worn through.
"How dare you put this on me? You wanted the parties, the endless spending to keep up appearances. I just gave you what you demanded!" Edward Vale slammed his fist on the table, looking at his wife angrily.
Syrena's heart clenched. Their words sliced the air, sharp and hopeless. She felt like a child again, the unwanted orphan who had been plucked from nothingness and placed in a cage. Adopted at twelve, she'd spent the last decade learning which fork to use, how to smile at galas and how to dance as if she belonged in their world.
And yet she never truly belonged, not by blood, birth or wealth.
She was a Vale, in name only.
Her mother suddenly went still, her eyes narrowing as if struck by revelation. Slowly, she set the wine glass down.
"There is still a way," she said softly.
Edward barked a bitter laugh. "What do you have up your sleeve now?"
"Alexander Graves."
The name hit the room like thunder and lightning all at once. Syrena felt her stomach lurch. Alexander Graves was the billionaire CEO, master of half the city's wealth. Cold. Untouchable. Dangerous.
Edward scoffed. "Graves would never look at us now. The man can smell weakness. We're drowning in debt—why would he tie himself to us?"
"Not us," Miranda whispered. Her gaze cut like a knife toward Syrena.
Syrena froze. "Me?"
Her mother leaned forward, her painted lips curling into a desperate and cruel smile. "You'll marry him."
The room seemed to blur in Syrena's vision as she gripped the edge of the table, breath caught in her throat. "Marry… Alexander Graves? That's impossible. He wouldn't—"
"He will if he believes you're the Vale heiress," Mirabelle snapped. "You're young, beautiful, and you've been trained all your life for this role. The world already thinks you're our daughter, the only jewel of the family. If you play your role, he'll have no reason to doubt it."
Syrena's voice cracked. "But I'm not an heiress. I'm adopted. I have nothing to my name."
"What should happen if he finds out the truth about our real financial status?" Syrena voiced out concerned.
"He will not, he won't bother to look." Mirabelle snapped again, getting agitated.
Her father looked away, with shame flickering across his features. However, Mirabelle only slammed her hand on the table, the sound sharp as a slap.
"You think that matters? We raised you. We gave you our name, our home, our education. Do you think we did that out of charity? No, Syrena. We invested in you, and now it's time for you to repay that investment."
Syrena's chest tightened. Their words wrapped around her like chains already binding her to a fate that she knew she did not want for herself.
"I…" She swallowed hard. "You're asking me to lie to him. To trap him."
Mirabelle's eyes gleamed as she saw the opportunity that lay before them in the form of Syrena.
"I'm asking you to save this family. Once you're his wife, the Graves fortune will protect us. No creditors, no scandal. You'll secure your place as the future Mrs. Graves—and we'll finally be able to breathe again." Mirabelle assured her.
Her father muttered, "This is madness." But even he didn't argue further with his wife's plan.
Syrena looked between them—the only family she'd ever known. They had given her everything: a roof, a name, a chance to escape the orphanage walls. But they had also given her chains, now all she had to do was endure.
If she said no, she would lose all she had. If she said yes… she would be living a lie, a dangerous one, tied to a man who could destroy her with a single glance.
Her pulse pounded. She wanted to scream that she couldn't. That she wasn't strong enough to go through with it. That she wasn't the heiress they wanted her to be.
But her mother's eyes bore into hers, merciless and demanding.
"You will do this, Serena. You owe us this much."
Silence filled the room. The clock ticked.
Finally, Serena lifted her chin, masking the storm inside her. She forced her voice to remain steady as she answered.
"I understand."
Mirabelle's lips curved in triumph. "Good girl."
But Serena knew this would be the moment she stopped being herself and became someone else entirely.
The mysterious Vale heiress. A woman who didn't exist. A woman of deception.
As the weight of what she was about to do, settled over her shoulders, Serena whispered a prayer only she could hear:
Please let this lie not be the death of me.