Where Is My Fiancée

Astrid POV

In the six-foot mirror, a perfect bride looked at me, and I looked back.

The ivory gown with hundreds of hand stitched seed pearls and diamonds was a custom creation that had taken months and countless hands to create.

It had cost hundreds of thousands.

Only the best for Knox Gage's bride.

It was beautiful, no doubt, but it made me feel even worse.

My parents had always favoured Ingrid, and I had desperately tried to get them to see me.

My stepping into her life to save the family felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy; I was only worth something when I embodied my sister.

I took a deep breath and tried and failed to still my shaking hands.

I could not believe that I had allowed myself to be talked into fraud, and for the umpteenth time, I considered climbing out of the window and running for my life.

The only thing keeping me from bolting was that I knew what it would do to the family business.

Gage Industries was responsible for about 70% of the business that Hargrave Ent got.

If business between both companies stopped, Hargrave Ent would lose badly and probably go bankrupt.

My family was an old aristocratic one; I could not bear the thought of selling everything our ancestors had left us just to eat.

Also, there was a small voice inside me that told me that I was getting a chance with the man of my dreams.

Maybe the result could surprise me in a good way.

Sure, it was happening unconventionally, but who was to say that Knox would not fall in love with me in time?

Maybe he would find that his type was the studious introvert, not the flirty social butterfly.

I held onto this tiny glimmer of hope and prayed that this decision did not end in disaster.

My thoughts were interrupted by my mother's arrival.

She looked at my face, scrutinizing the makeup artist's efforts.

Absent was concern for what I was about to do; all she cared about was that nothing went wrong.

"This will have to do." She grimaced in dissatisfaction. "Straighten your back and walk with poise, don't speak too much."

"And for Christ's sake, stop shaking, Ingrid would never."

I wanted to snap at my mother and ask her if she would like to take my place instead. 'Let's see how easy it is to pretend to be Ingrid at her wedding ceremony.'

But I took in a deep breath and kept my thoughts inside.

Mother placed the veil over my head, and then she led me out of the room to the end of the garden, where Father was waiting to lead me down the aisle.

The early morning air stirred, raising the sweet smells from the specially chosen flowers in the garden.

And as we walked down the aisle, I was concentrating on putting one foot before the other; I did not have time to pay any attention to the petal-covered aisle of the chairs, which had been designed with fresh flowers.

The only thing I could see was the tall, broad-shouldered figure that stood at the end of the aisle waiting in front of the officiant.

All too soon, we were standing in front of Knox, and I was able to admire the way his tuxedo stretched across his toned body.

I took my place opposite him, and my heart thudded as his stern expression softened.

The adoration in his eyes caused my breath to hitch.

The fact that the emotions in his eyes were for my sister, not me, brought a tear to my eye.

The ceremony was a blur of words that did not register in my brain.

Until, "Dearly beloved. Gathered here today. If anyone objects."

My fist tightened, and I forced myself to stand still even though I wanted to glance at the audience.

I had an uncanny feeling that Ingrid would barge in and demand that I return her groom.

But no one objected.

At the end of it, the Gages got their alliance. The Hargraves got their security.

And, Ingrid got her freedom.

While I got to stand beside the man I loved, wearing my sister's face, pretending my heart wasn't breaking with every passing second.

"You may kiss the bride."

Knox turned to me then with the gentleness of a whisper, and he raised the veil.

I held my breath as his eyes searched my face. I feared it was because he had noticed something that had not been there before.

Then at last, he leaned in.

I closed my eyes.

My knees almost buckled when his lips brushed mine.

Soft. Sweet. Full of the love he felt for his bride.

When I opened my eyes, Knox was still watching me.

Then, after a beat, he held my hand and turned me towards the audience.

I caught the look of relief on my mother's face.

The worst had passed.

*

I wished that I could escape the reception.

It was an endless whirl of champagne and congratulations.

The fake smiles caused my cheeks to ache. I accepted a million compliments.

I danced with elderly relatives and posed for at least a hundred photographs, then cut the ten-tiered angel fruit cake.

Dodging Ingrid's vapid friends almost caused me to scream and tear my hair out, so when I got the chance to sit beside my groom, I was thankful I escaped them.

Knox pulled me closer to him and burrowed his nose in my hair, and my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

"Why can't I see Astrid?" He asked after a beat.

I pulled away and looked at him.

He was the first person to ask about me; no one else cared.

I shrugged nonchalantly and then leaned back against his shoulder.

"She is probably off somewhere, reading a book or something," I mumbled.

"Hmmm." Knox's voice vibrated by the side of my head, then he placed a kiss on my forehead that threatened to turn me to mush.

By the time I was called to throw the bouquet, I was so done and ready for to leave.

I just wanted to tear off the heavy gown and slip in a T-shirt, then sleep.

I was simply drained.

Without thinking, I reached for a champagne flute, brought it to my lips, and took a sip before returning.

Unconsciously, I began to bite my thumbnail.

Then grimaced at the unfamiliar false nails.

Beside me, the air suddenly went cold. I felt Knox’s gaze shift from the champagne flute to my hand.

I froze, my heart felt like it stopped mid-beat. I slowly lowered my hand to my lap, but it was too late.

His expression was blank.

Then it shifted. Slowly, like waking up from a sleep.

"Ingrid," he said slowly, "has never bitten her nails. She told me once that it was a disgusting habit. She said only one person in her family did it."

My blood ran cold.

"Her sister," Knox finished. "Astrid."

The music played on. Guests laughed. Champagne glasses clinked.

But between the two of us, the world had gone very, very still.

"Knox," I started, "I can explain…"

"Where," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "is my fiancée?"