Dangerous Game

I push the study door open without knocking. Victor doesn't look up from his paperwork. The afternoon light filters through the cracked window pane, catching dust motes that dance between us. That crack—a memory flashes of the day my real father accidentally threw a paperweight during one of our laughing fits. A ghost of a smile touches my lips.

"Where's your sister?" Victor's voice slices through my reminiscing. "I specifically asked for both of you." His tone hardens as he finally deigns to acknowledge my presence.

Before I can formulate an apology, the door swings wider. Natasha glides in like she owns the room—which in Victor's eyes, she does.

"Daddy!" She wraps her arms around his neck. "Noelle said you needed us?"

Victor's face transforms, softening at the edges. "Yes, princess. I have news." He straightens some papers on his desk. "We've received a marriage proposal."

My stomach drops. Please, not for me.

"Daddy, you know I'm with Jasper." Natasha's voice rises to that whiny pitch that makes my teeth ache.

"It's not for you, sweetheart." Victor's gaze shifts to me, cold and calculating. "It's for Noelle."

The room seems to shrink around me. "I don't—"

"Don't interrupt me," Victor snaps. I clamp my mouth shut. "Adrian Castillo needs a wife. Someone to manage his household, prepare his meals, attend to his... needs."

A glorified servant with benefits, my mind translates.

"He requires someone presentable for social functions. A partner who can stand beside him at corporate events," Victor continues, shuffling through a folder.

Natasha snorts. "She can barely dress herself. We can't parade her around in public."

I dig my nails into my palms, forcing myself to remain expressionless. I've heard worse from her.

"Who is he anyway?" Natasha asks, examining her manicure.

"Adrian Castillo."

"The tech billionaire?" Natasha's head snaps up. "No! She doesn't deserve that kind of connection. She'll embarrass us all."

Victor raises his hand, silencing her. "I've proposed an arrangement that serves everyone. Adrian needs to prove he's married—it's a business requirement. Noelle will legally become Mrs. Castillo in a private ceremony. She'll manage his household affairs." His lips curl into what passes for a smile. "Meanwhile, Natasha, you'll be presented to society as his wife. You'll attend the galas, the charity functions, the business dinners."

Natasha's brow furrows. "I don't understand."

"It's simple. Noelle marries him on paper and stays hidden away. You get the title, the publicity, the connections—everything you need to launch your modeling career. Adrian gets his business deal secured with proof of marriage."

Understanding dawns on Natasha's face. "That's brilliant! I can help Jasper with his business contacts too."

"This isn't fair," I whisper, the words escaping before I can stop them.

Victor's eyes narrow. "Fair? You should be grateful you're finally useful to this family. Your sister's dreams are within reach, and you're complaining?"

"But I don't even know him—" I begin.

"You'll be happy for your sister," he cuts me off, voice dropping to that dangerous register that leaves no room for argument.

Natasha prances over to kiss his cheek. Daddy's princess indeed.

"It's a one-year contract," Victor adds. "After that, a quiet divorce."

"Won't people notice our different names?" Natasha asks, twirling a strand of hair.

Victor pats her hand. "Leave the details to me, princess."

I take one last look at them—father and daughter in their perfect bubble—before slipping out. The familiar ache spreads through my chest. Just once, I wish he'd look at me the way he looks at her. Just once.

In the hallway, I nearly collide with my mother.

"Noelle," she calls, stopping me. "I heard the news."

I search her face for any sign of maternal concern. There is none.

"You're doing the right thing for your sister," she says with a practiced smile.

"Mom, I don't want—" I start, but Natasha's arrival cuts me short.

"Mom! Can Jasper come for dinner tonight?" She has Victor in tow, his face still glowing with paternal pride.

"Of course, darling." Mom beams. "And tomorrow we meet Adrian." She glances at me as an afterthought.

"I'm so excited!" Natasha claps her hands together.

I retreat before the tears threatening to spill become visible. My feet carry me upstairs to my sanctuary—a room that's mine only because they don't want it.

Once inside, I slide down against the door until I'm curled on the floor. Only then do I let the first tear fall. This can't be happening. A contract marriage to a stranger while my stepsister parades around as his wife? It's beyond humiliating.

There was a time when I was loved. When William Larsen looked at me like I hung the moon. Before the car accident. Before Mom blamed me for his death, though I was at a friend's house when it happened. Before she married Victor three months later and had Natasha.

"Dad," I whisper to the empty room. "I need you now more than ever."

After Victor and Natasha came into our lives, everything changed. Mom became a stranger. Victor ignored me completely. When Natasha arrived, I became invisible. They paid for her modeling classes but refused to help with my college tuition. She took everything—my mother's love, my stepfather's attention, even my boyfriend Jasper.

Natasha has a gift for twisting narratives. She convinced everyone I tried to sabotage her relationship with Jasper, when in reality, he was dating me first. She stole him, then played the victim. No one would believe my side, even with evidence.

I must have fallen asleep on the floor because a pounding at my door startles me awake.

"Get up! Who's making dinner?" Natasha shouts through the wood.

I massage my stiff neck as I stand. "Coming," I call back, opening the door.

"You have an hour before Jasper arrives," she snaps. "I won't have him waiting for his meal."

"I'll be right down," I reply, forcing a tight smile.

Seeing my ex with my stepsister never gets easier. I hate him for what he did, but the betrayal still stings. We had something real—or so I thought—until Natasha decided she wanted him.

I pass Mom and Victor cuddling on the sofa as I head to the kitchen. They don't acknowledge me.

An hour later, I've prepared a meal that would make any chef proud. It's one small victory I allow myself—I can cook circles around Natasha, though she'll take credit for it.

"Mom!" Natasha calls from the living room. "Noelle needs to change. Jasper will be here any minute."

Dinner is excruciating. For thirty minutes, I might as well be furniture. Then Jasper breaks the pattern.

"How do you feel about the wedding, Noelle?" he asks, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since he arrived.

"Her feelings are irrelevant," Natasha laughs. "It's happening regardless."

The table erupts in laughter. I grip my fork tighter.

"Did you enjoy the meal?" I ask Jasper, knowing I'm crossing a line.

Silence falls like a guillotine. I can feel everyone staring.

"Natasha made it," Mom says quickly. "Didn't she do wonderfully?"

Of course. Just like Natasha supposedly makes every meal in this house.

The conversation resumes, flowing around me like I'm a rock in a stream. My thoughts drift to my father, who encouraged my writing dreams. Mom never approved—said it wasn't practical. If Dad were alive, everything would be different.

"I can arrange meetings with potential investors," Jasper is saying to Natasha. "This connection to Adrian Castillo opens so many doors."

They're already planning how to profit from my forced marriage. I don't know Adrian Castillo beyond his reputation as a tech mogul with diverse business interests. If I had any say, they wouldn't get a penny from this arrangement.

"I love you so much for supporting us," Jasper tells Natasha, adoration evident in his expression.

Then he turns to me with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Thank you, Noelle."

"Don't thank her," Natasha snaps. "She has no choice in the matter."

I roll my eyes and excuse myself to wash dishes.

I'm elbow-deep in soapy water when arms encircle my waist from behind. I nearly drop a plate.

"Jasper!" I twist away from him. "What are you doing?"

"I wanted to talk privately," he says, moving closer again.

"There's nothing to discuss." I step back, putting the counter between us. "Please leave."

"You still want me," he says with infuriating confidence. "I can tell."

When he reaches for my hand, I shove him away harder than intended. He stumbles backward into the dish rack, sending plates crashing to the floor.

Footsteps thunder toward the kitchen. Within seconds, Victor, Mom, and Natasha crowd the doorway.

"What happened?" Mom demands, looking at Jasper instead of me.

"She came onto me," Jasper lies smoothly. "When I rejected her, she got violent."

By the time he finishes his fabricated story, Mom's face is flushed with anger.

"Apologize to him," she orders me.

"No." The word is barely audible.

"What did you say?" Victor steps forward.

I lift my chin. "No. I won't apologize for something I didn't do."

"You're standing there disrespecting us, you ungrateful bitch!" Natasha shrieks.

I should back down. I should apologize and retreat. But something in me snaps.

"I won't apologize. You believe a stranger over your own daughter. Who does that?" My voice rises. "I hate—"

The slap comes before I can finish. My mother's palm connects with my cheek, the sting radiating across my face. Tears spring to my eyes.

"Now apologize," Mom says, satisfaction evident in her tone.

I say nothing. Instead, I walk past them, head high despite the burning in my cheek, and lock myself in my room.

I already know my punishment—no meals for two weeks. But I've prepared for this. I keep emergency cash from skimming grocery money, hidden in a hollowed-out book. I'll survive.

One day, I'll escape this house. One day, I'll be free.