Dirty Games

This is it. My wedding. If someone had told me I'd be here yesterday, I'd say they were lying. But here I am, no falsehood detected. There is only another twenty minutes left till I become Eliana Vanderbilt. Mrs. Levi Vanderbilt.

"Eliana.." Aunt Livia crones in a sing song voice, clearly excited. "The guests are arriving."

She glances at me and her face contorts into a vicious sneer. Aunt Livia takes in my caramel tan skin, natural red lips enhanced by the lip stain I hurriedly smeared on and my slanted siren eyes.

"Well, you can put lipstick on a pig.." she eyes me from top to bottom.

I curl my fist, fingernails digging into my palms.

"Whatever, I'm sure your husband wouldn't mind." That statement seems to set her off and she began laughing hysterically. "Given the circumstances, widowed even before your marriage." She straightens back up again.

Her face goes serious as she finally makes eye contact with me. She opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by the wedding planner walking in.

"They are ready for you."

I take a breath steeling myself, as I walk out. The widowed bride.

Two days earlier

"Eliana," her voice thunders, sending a chill down my spine.

She's ere. That wasn't a good sign and I knew it. Aunt Livia's presence anywhere was never a good sign.

"Yes, aunt Livia." I say, walking up to her so she could see me. I hate how meek my voice sounds. It seemed to fuel her, knowing I was weak, I had no choice.

"Come in. I need to talk to you." She says with that cold sneer that never seemed to leave her face. She reminded me of the queen of heart in Alice in wonderland. Big head covered in red hair, eyes too large for hee face and a permanent grimace that made it impossible for anyone to look at her face for too long.

I walk into the study head bowed. My dirty blonde hair in a low bun, wearing clothes I had bought from a dollar store.

Her face turned to a frown when she took in my appearance standing at the door. "You couldn't put on something else?"

Aunt Livia does not try to hide her distaste for my outfit. I want to scream, I can't afford anything else. We barely have enough to live by, every cent I make goes into my dad. Some days I barely have enough to eat.

"Sorry." Is all I could muster up.

"How's your father?" She asks.

"He's... still the same. The doctors said they would try a new round of treatments since the last one doesn't seem to be working anymore." I say tears filling up my eyes. I grit my teeth not letting them fall. I have to ask her for more money. "Aunt Livia, the new treatment... it's expensive. I was wondering if you could spare even a little bit more."

My voice is cut off by her loud laughter. "More money?!"

It stings, he was her brother. My father was a thriving business man until he got sick. Suddenly his company stopped doing well and everything we had in savings was put into his treatment. The company went bankrupt and we are now drowning in debt.

Aunt Livia has helped, in her own way. She never lets me forget it. Every cent I get from her is through a lot of groveling.

"Aunt Livia... the doctors say this one is going to work. You know I wouldn't bother you if I didn't have to.." I say.

She laughs and even louder. "Do you know how much you owe me already? And now you're asking for even more?"

I flinch at hee harsh statements.

"You couldn't pay it for seven lifetimes, yet you want more." She continues. "Pray tell Eliana. How are you going

to pay it all back."

"When... when father gets better we will find.." I start.

"Blah blah, the story of your mothers fortune again. Your father isn't getting better, wouldn't it be easier to just stop. Save me my money." She says cruelly.

I throw myself down on the floor on my knees. "Please, he will get better. I just know it. Please just help us once again."

"My brother will get better... I live for the day. Okay." She agrees. "Get up, your begging annoys me. I'll help, but you have to do something for me in return."

"Okay. Anything." I say getting up.

"Anything..." she smirks.

Aunt Livia gets up, removing a file from her drawer, placing it on the table. "Sit."

I sit and she gestures to the documents, for me to open it.

What could this be? I open it cautiously, dreading what it could contain. Is it a slave contract? Does she want me to give up all my human rights to her? I wouldn't put that past her.

To my surprise it's a picture of a man, blurry so I can barely make out his face, but irregardless a picture. There are many pictures like that I note, flipping through the pages.

After the pictures it's a document. I see headers like, schools, hobbies, most frequented places along with a shirt bio data. Name: Levi Vanderbilt, Age: 30, Occupation: businessman.

What even is this? I look up to see Aunt Livia staring at me intently.

I flip to the last page and it's a marriage contract. The more I read the more my face morphs into shock.

I look up once again at Aunt Livia.

"Yes, that's your husband. The man you're going to marry, Levi Vanderbilt."

My ears are ringing as she goes on. Marriage? Its worse than a slave contract. I can hear her distantly say.

"Marry Levi Vanderbilt and I'll forgive your debt and take care of your father's treatment."

The sun glared through the hospital window like it had a vendetta. I sat beside my father's bed, staring at his frail, immobile form. The beep of the monitors filled the silence, a monotonous soundtrack to my life falling apart. His hand was limp in mine, the once-strong grip of a man who used to lift me onto his shoulders now reduced to nothing.

"Dad," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the machines. "What would you do if you were me?"

He didn't answer, of course. He couldn't. The ventilator did all the talking now. I pressed my lips together, my throat tightening with every breath he didn't take on his own. The weight of it all-the debts, Livia, the Vanderbilt proposal-crushed me.

"You wouldn't let her do this to me, would you?" I asked, my voice cracking. "You'd tell her to back off, to leave me alone."

I laughed bitterly. Who was I kidding? Livia always got what she wanted. And Dad had never been good at stopping her, even before the hospital bed swallowed him whole.

Tears filled my eyes as I tried to keep it together. I don't want to think about how unfair it all is, but it is. We were good my father and I. Then suddenly this violent illness came, eating him up slowly, forcing me to go on by myself. It was hard enough losing my mom at a young age. But now this, sold to a marriage contract.

Aunt Livia's heels clicked against the cold marble floor as she entered the room, her presence sharp and invasive, like a blade slicing through what little peace I'd managed to find.

"Eliana," she said, her voice smooth as silk but laced with steel. "I trust you've had enough time to think."

I didn't look at her. "You don't trust anything, Aunt Livia. Let's not pretend." I hadn't spoken to her this way before, and I could see her eyebrows go up, but she recovered quickly.

Her lips curled into a cold smile. "Witty today, are we? That won't pay the bills." She moved closer, her perfume wafting through the air-sickly sweet, like rotten fruit dressed up in gold. "I need an answer."

I turned to her, trying to muster the courage to stand firm. "You're asking me to marry some man I don't know. That's insane."

"No," she corrected, her tone clipped. "I'm *telling* you to marry Levi Vanderbilt. And you should be grateful. It's a solution to all your problems."

"My problems?" My voice rose, sharp and incredulous. "It's my dad Aunt Livia, your brother. How could you be so cruel."

"Careful," she warned, her eyes narrowing. "Your father isn't in any condition to save you, and you sure as hell can't save yourself. I'm offering you a way out."

"A way out of what? Into what?" I stood, the legs of the chair screeching against the floor. "Marrying a man I've never met for the Vanderbilt name? Do you hear yourself?"

She stepped closer, unbothered by my outburst. "Don't be so dramatic. This makes it easier. No messy emotions, no inconvenient attachments. Just a simple marriage contract."

My finger pads tap nervously on my dad's skin. "I searched him online.

"Now why would you do that?" She asks gleefully.

"There's rumors, that he's dead.." I say cautiously. I look up to meet hee gaze and she betrays no emotions.

"You want me to believe you suddenly care about tabloid gossip." She says pointedly.

It sounds crazy. I know I shouldn't be indulging online speculations, but I feel so hopeless, I just wanted to find out what type of person he was and the answer I got. "They didn't seem like just rumors, Aunt Livia."

She sighs frustrated. "Fine, so what if he is?"

"You knew." My eyes grow wide. She knew, and she is still forcing me anyways, to marry a dead man.

"But that makes it the perfect arrangement doesn't it. The name, the fortune, and the power that comes with it."

My stomach churned. "You're disgusting."

"And you're out of options," she shot back, her voice colder than the sterile room around us. "Or have you forgotten the hospital bills stacking up by the hour? The creditors knocking on your doors? I'm not the only one you owe Eliana and I sure am not settling those debts." Her gaze flicked to my father. "Do you want him to die because you're too proud to do what needs to be done?"

The words hit like a slap. I glanced at Dad, the weight of his condition dragging me down further. She knew exactly where to press, where it hurt most.

"Don't you dare use him against me," I said through gritted teeth, but the tears were already dropping.

She laughed, soft and venomous. "I don't need to. The situation speaks for itself. Either you marry Levi Vanderbilt, or you lose everything. Including him."

I hated her in that moment, truly, viscerally hated her. The kind of hate that sits in your chest and festers, poisoning every breath. But there was no escaping the truth of her words. She'd backed me into a corner, and she knew it.

•••

Later that evening, I wandered through the city streets, the Vanderbilt name echoing in my mind. He'd been dead for years, a phantom billionaire everyone whispered about but no one really remembered. Now his name was suddenly my noose, tightening with every step.

I ducked into a small café, the kind of place I used to escape to before life turned into a never-ending storm. The air smelled like burnt coffee and old wood. I sat in the corner, staring at the faded wallpaper, my hands wrapped around a cup of something I couldn't taste.

"Levi Vanderbilt," I muttered to myself, testing the name aloud. It sounded ridiculous. Foreign. Like it didn't belong anywhere near my life. And yet, here I was, teetering on the edge of signing away what little freedom I had left.

Would it be so bad? A marriage in name only. A dead husband who couldn't demand anything from me. Maybe I could endure it, just long enough to pay off the debts and walk away.

But Livia's words haunted me. The Vanderbilt name is tied to dangerous secrets. What kind of secrets? And why did she look so smug, like she knew something I didn't?

•••

The next morning, I was back at the hospital, sitting by my father's side. His breathing was shallow, his skin pale. I hated seeing him like this, so small and helpless.

"I don't know what to do," I confessed, leaning closer. "If I do what Livia wants, maybe I can save you. But what if it costs me everything else?"

He didn't move, didn't blink. I reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. "You always told me to fight, no matter what. But this? This feels like surrender."

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

My phone buzzed, breaking the moment. I pulled it out, my stomach twisting when I saw the headline splashed across the screen:

Levi Vanderbilt: Still Watching?

My heart stopped. The article featured a blurry photo of a man who looked eerily like Levi, stepping into a black car.

"No," I whispered, my pulse quickening. "That's not possible. He's supposed to be dead."

I stared at the screen, my mind racing. If Levi Vanderbilt was alive, what did that mean for Livia's plan? For me?

And why did I suddenly feel like I was walking into a trap? The screen dimmed, but the headline burned in my mind, a ghost I couldn't shake.

"

"So it's you." The man says, his eyes trailing over my body in a scrutinizing manner.

"Who are you and what are you talking about?" I asked. It was a tall man, about 6"2 with dark hair. He had broad shoulders and an evidently toned body. His voice as he said so it's you, sounded deep and commanding, like the type spillers used. Why had he walked in here so confidently. He didn't belong here, this was my fathers hospital room.

"I'd have thought if they were placing a pawn she'd be more intimidating, atleast, not so frail and fragile looking." Giving me another once over the strange man says. "Or maybe that's part of the plan. I'm more likely to underestimate an innocent looking one than someone who looks like she knows what she is doing."

"Leave before I call security. You're not supposed to be here." I say getting scared. Who is this and what does he want? I'm not sure I could protect myself and my unconscious dad if a throwdown occurred right now.

"You can drop the act now. I know you know who I am." The man says in a dangerous tone, stepping up to me. I can feel my heartbeat quicken as I get a wisp of his scent.

"I I don't know who you are." I stutter. "I'm calling security." I say grabbing the remote on the bed to call for a nurse or anyone.

The man chuckles. "Security. This would be interesting. For your sake, I hope you know what you're doing." With that he turns around and walks out.

Leaving me standing with the remote I actually hadn't clicked yet in my hand. Something about that man is so familiar but I can't place my finger on it.

•••

The pen trembled in my hand. The marriage contract sat before me like an execution order, the words blurring as my vision swam. Across the room, Livia lounged in one of the Vanderbilt estate's antique chairs, her sharp features coldly illuminated by the sterile overhead light. She didn't look like someone who'd just orchestrated her niece's life sentence. No, she looked victorious. Triumphant. Like she'd won some invisible war I never knew we were fighting.

"Eliana," she said, her voice slicing through the silence. "We don't have all day. Your father's hospital bills are waiting, and the clock is ticking. Every second you waste..." She let the words hang, her painted nails tapping against the armrest, deliberate and sharp.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "You make it sound like I have a choice."

"You do," she said smoothly, her lips curving into a cruel smile. "The choice to do what's best for your family-or let them drown while you cling to your precious pride. Your father's life depends on this. Surely you're not so selfish as to let him die?"

The words punched me in the gut, but I kept my expression neutral. No tears. No trembling voice. If she wanted me to break, she'd have to try harder.

"I hope you're enjoying this," I said, my voice low, barely concealing the venom.

Her smile widened. "Oh, darling, I don't *enjoy* it. I simply do what's necessary. You'd understand that if you weren't so naïve."

I looked down at the contract again, my fingers gripping the pen tightly enough to leave indentations. Levi Vanderbilt. The name stared back at me, bold and unrelenting, like the man it supposedly belonged to. Dead or alive, he was nothing more than a phantom to me-a shadow I was being forced to bind myself to for reasons I couldn't even comprehend.

"Why him?" I asked, my voice quieter now, more fragile than I intended.

"Why not him?" Livia countered, standing and crossing the room with predatory grace. "The Vanderbilt name still holds power, even if its heir is... indisposed. His 'death' was a tragedy, of course, but his legacy? Untouchable. And now, it's yours-for a price."

I stared at her, a bitter laugh bubbling in my throat. "You mean *your* price."

She leaned in, her perfume cloying and suffocating, and whispered, "My price is your salvation, Eliana. Don't forget that."

I signed.

The pen scrawled my name with a finality that felt like a knife slicing through my own chest. Livia snatched the contract the moment the ink dried, her smile a grotesque mimicry of warmth.

"Good girl," she said, folding the papers neatly. "Now, we can begin."

Begin what? I wanted to ask, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I stood numbly as she guided me toward the waiting car. The Vanderbilt estate loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette shrouded in mist like something out of a nightmare.

Present day

"They are ready for you."

I take a breath steeling myself, as I walk out. The widowed bride.

The ceremony was cold. Lifeless.

My palms were sweaty as I walked down the aisle, everyt step heavy like I could feel the weight of the invisible shackles on my feet. I tried not to cry or look at anyone. It was a small wedding. Aunt Livia, and three people from the grooms side.

I could see what Aunt Livia was gaining from this. But the groom, who were this people? Did they hate Levi this much to do this to him even in death? Maybe he was just like me I thought. Wishfully.

The officiant didn't bother with pleasantries or smiles. He simply recited the words with robotic precision, barely pausing for me to respond. My "I do" came out as a whisper, hollow and detached, but no one seemed to notice.

The ring felt heavy on my finger, a tangible reminder of the chains I'd just shackled myself with.

When it was over, the officiant handed me an envelope marked Confidential. "From Mr. Vanderbilt's private affairs," he said, his tone neutral. He didn't linger, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he'd come.

I stared at the envelope, my pulse quickening. What could Levi possibly have left behind for me? Did he even know I existed before all this?

The estate was a mausoleum.

Every hallway was lined with portraits of stern-faced Vanderbilts, their eyes following me as I wandered aimlessly. The air was heavy, suffused with the scent of old wood and decay. Livia had disappeared somewhere into the house, leaving me alone in the sprawling emptiness.

Eventually, I found myself in Levi's office. It was exactly what I'd expected: dark mahogany furniture, shelves filled with leather-bound books, and a massive desk that seemed to dominate the room. The envelope felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as I set it down, my hands trembling slightly.

I didn't open it. Not yet. Instead, I sank into the chair behind the desk, trying to steady my breathing. The silence was deafening, pressing down on me like a physical weight.

And then I heard it.

Footsteps.

Above me.

My heart stopped.

I looked up, my eyes darting to the ceiling. The sound was faint but unmistakable-slow, deliberate steps, moving across the floor above.

No one else was supposed to be here.

"Livia?" I called out, my voice shaking.

No response.

The footsteps stopped, and for a moment, the silence was even worse. I felt a chill run down my spine, my pulse pounding in my ears.

And then, as if on cue, a single creak echoed through the room-a sound so faint I almost convinced myself I'd imagined it.

Almost. I stood frozen, my eyes locked on the ceiling, the envelope still unopened on the desk before me. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as the oppressive silence enveloped me once again.

"Who's there?" I whispered, though I wasn't sure I wanted an answer.

I picture aunt Livia's gleeful face telling me the Vanderbilt family had secrets. Was I about to be introduced to it so soon? I thought about all the cult movies I watched of brides having to fight till the death at the rich families or escape demons. Could this be it? The reason for this marriage.