CHAPTER 2: THE HEIR'S BURDEN.

Alexander's POV.

The merger documents lay spread across my desk like battle plans. Thorne Industries acquiring Westvale Fashion. On paper, it looked clean. Professional. A strategic expansion into luxury goods.

In reality, it was a rescue mission dressed as a business deal.

"The numbers don't lie," Sophia said from the leather chair across from me. My sister's voice carried the sharp edge that made board members flinch. "Westvale is hemorrhaging money. Has been for two years."

I signed another page without looking up. "I'm aware."

"Then why save them?"

Because Evelyn Westvale had called me three months ago, her voice breaking as she begged for help. Because their family's legacy deserved better than bankruptcy court. Because sometimes mercy was good business.

Because Elena Westvale existed in their world, and I wasn't ready to watch it crumble.

"The fashion industry is undervalued," I said instead. "This acquisition positions us perfectly for the luxury market expansion."

Sophia's laugh held no warmth. "Since when do you care about fashion?"

Since I'd watched Elena sketch designs in the margins of meeting notes. Since I'd seen her transform scraps into something beautiful with hands that moved like prayer. Since I'd realized that the quiet sister had more talent in her fingertip than most people had in their entire bodies.

But I couldn't say that. Not to Sophia. Not to anyone.

"The Westvales have connections we need," I said, closing the final contract. "This marriage secures those relationships permanently."

Marriage. The word sat wrong in my mouth. Tomorrow I would stand at an altar and promise forever to Vivian Westvale. Beautiful, ambitious, perfect Vivian, who looked at me like I was a particularly valuable stock option.

She wasn't cruel. She wasn't unkind. She was exactly what everyone expected Alexander Thorne's wife to be: polished, poised, profitable.

She was also completely wrong.

"You don't love her." Sophia's statement wasn't a question.

"Love is a luxury I can't afford."

"Father loved Mother."

I looked up sharply. Sophia rarely mentioned our parents' marriage, the fairy tale that had ended in car crashes and custody battles. "And look how that turned out."

"Not every love story ends in tragedy, Alex."

But mine would. Because the woman I wanted belonged to shadows and silence, to gentle smiles and hidden dreams. Elena Westvale would never fit into my world of board meetings and hostile takeovers. She was too soft for the sharp edges of my life.

Too pure for someone like me.

My phone buzzed. A text from Vivian: *"Final dress fitting went perfectly. See you at the altar, darling."*

I stared at the message, waiting for some flicker of anticipation. Nothing came. Only the familiar weight of duty, heavy as armor.

"The media's already calling it the wedding of the century," Sophia said, scrolling through her tablet. "Three hundred guests. Live coverage on five networks. The mayor's attending."

"Wonderful."

"You could sound more enthusiastic about your own wedding."

I closed my laptop, gathering the signed documents. "Enthusiasm won't make the stock prices rise."

But as I prepared to leave the office, my mind wandered—as it always did—to Elena. I thought of her hands working magic with fabric and thread. The way she listened during family dinners, filing away details others missed. How she'd blush when our eyes met across crowded rooms, then look away like she'd been caught stealing.

Seven years I'd watched her. Seven years I'd told myself she was off-limits, inappropriate, impossible. The shadow twin to the woman I was supposed to want.

Tomorrow that would end. Tomorrow I would marry Vivian and bury whatever foolish feelings I'd harbored for her sister. Tomorrow I would do my duty to both our families and forget the quiet girl who made my pulse race with nothing more than a glance.

The elevator descended toward the parking garage, each floor counting down to my fate. In the reflection of the polished doors, I looked like what I was: a man born to control everything except his own heart.

My driver waited by the car, professional and silent. We drove through Luminance City's glittering streets toward Sapphire Cliff, my isolated sanctuary overlooking the ocean. The penthouse where I'd lived alone for five years, where silence had become my closest companion.

After tomorrow, that would change too. Vivian would bring her energy, her social calendar, her expectations. The quiet spaces where I'd learned to think would fill with noise.

But perhaps that was better. Perhaps noise would drown out the treacherous voice that whispered Elena's name in my darkest moments.

At home, I poured three fingers of scotch and stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city spread below like scattered diamonds, beautiful and cold. Somewhere out there, Elena was finishing the wedding dress. Somewhere out there, she was stitching the fabric that would bind me to her sister forever.

The irony wasn't lost on me. Elena's hands creating the instrument of my sacrifice.

My phone rang. Father's name flashed on the screen.

"Alexander." Dominic Thorne's voice carried the authority of a man who'd built empires. "Ready for tomorrow?"

"As ready as anyone can be for a merger disguised as a wedding."

His laugh was sharp. "Marriage is always a merger, son. The smart ones just admit it upfront."

"Is that what you told yourself when you married Mother?"

Silence stretched between us, loaded with old pain. When he spoke again, his voice had softened. "Your mother was... different. She made me believe in fairy tales."

"And look where that led."

"It led to you. And Sophia. The best decisions I ever made."

I took another sip of scotch, letting the burn replace the ache in my chest. "The Westvale contracts are signed. Everything's in place."

"Good. The media attention alone will boost our stock ten percent. And having fashion industry access..." He paused. "There's real talent in that family. Elena's designs are extraordinary."

My grip tightened on the glass. "She's not part of the deal."

"No. But talent like hers... it deserves recognition. Perhaps after the merger settles, we could explore opportunities."

Working with Elena. Seeing her every day. Watching her create beauty while I built my cage around duty and obligation.

It would be torture.

"Perhaps," I said.

After Father hung up, I finished my drink and tried not to think about tomorrow. Tried not to imagine Elena watching from the congregation as I married her sister. Tried not to wonder if she'd designed the dress as a gift or a punishment.

But as I prepared for bed, one thought echoed through my mind like a warning:

In eighteen hours, I would promise forever to the wrong woman.

And the right one would watch it happen.