(Not) The Billionaire's Replacement Bride

I stared at that luxurious house. The house that caused my mother to leave me and my father. A house like a palace but filled with monsters inside. I smiled bitterly. If only my father hadn't forced me to come here to deliver the wedding gift. I didn't want to come on my own.

I exhaled and got out of the car. How long had it been since I last saw the woman who was supposed to be my mother? A year? Two years? Ah, yes. Fifteen years. Once again, I smiled bitterly. I didn't hate my "mother," or more accurately, my father forbade me from hating her. A wicked woman who took my sister and left my father just because he went bankrupt and hit rock bottom.

My father, a good man, always forgiving but ultimately abandoned. Sorry, I'm not a gentle-hearted girl like my father. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Because even though my father instilled goodness in me, I grew up to be a cunning girl like my mother.

The servants looked at me with their mouths agape. Why? Are you surprised? Of course, they would be shocked to see me, the famous bride-to-be known for being gentle, loving, and ethical, walking freely. Hmm, one more fact I need to tell you. My sister and I are twins. Identical twins. I, the older one, was born five minutes before her, the obedient and gentle girl.

Ugh. I even want to spit on her. Like mother, like daughter. See, even when we were ten years old, my younger twin knew what would benefit her more. Living with a poor and miserable father or choosing to leave with her mother and prepare for a more comfortable life. Hate? No. My father said I shouldn't hate. "It will only rot your heart," he always said.

Okay, I won't hate. But if I feel disgusted? Is that okay?

My stiletto tapped the marble floor with a resounding echo. Only in my ears, of course, given the crowd's noise; it couldn't possibly be quiet, right?

The large teakwood door with intricate carvings swung wide open, and the bustling sounds of servants moving around with their decorations filled the air. With confidence, I entered the magnificent house, searching for someone I hoped I could still recognize after not seeing her for nearly a third of my life.

"Mommy, that's Karen!" A young boy pointed towards me. I glanced in his direction. Judging by his stature, he might be around 10 or 11 years old. His shout made several adults turn their gaze towards me. Smile? I'm not a friendly person. Sorry about that. My smiles are expensive.

"Sorry, I'm not Karenina," I replied cynically. "I'm here to find Mrs. Caitlyn," I said flatly.

A beautiful woman with a well-maintained face, an undoubtedly expensive and sleek dress, looked in my direction. "Ariana..." she whispered softly. Apparently, she still remembered my name. Should I smile? Or laugh?

With a quick yet graceful movement, the woman approached, extending her arms as if to hug me. But I recoiled. Sorry, it's just a reflex. To me, she was more like a germ to be avoided than a 'Mother' to be loved.

"Don't. Dare. Approach. And touch me," I said, enunciating each syllable. The woman froze. So did the people around. "I didn't come here to be warmly welcomed. I just came to deliver this." I handed over a gift, a check left by my father for my sister. Where's my twin? I didn't see her.

The woman in front of me reached for the paper, then began to cry softly. Sad? My heart had gone numb a long time ago. That's why I didn't feel touched at all. "Alright. My business here is done. I have to go." I turned to leave.

"Wait," she pleaded. I paused for a moment. "Please, Ariana. Please, Mama." She begged softly. I turned to look at her. She gazed at me with hopeful eyes. "Ka-Karen. She's gone. Please help Mama." She asked again.

"Gone?" I asked cynically. "Your daughter is missing? So, what's that got to do with me?" I turned away again, but someone held me back. I tried to push them away roughly. There was a crash and gasps of surprise filled my ears. Then something bumped into me. I stumbled, but luckily, I had good balance. I only staggered a couple of steps.

"Why are you being rough with Mommy!" the boy shouted angrily, looking at me. I saw a man already helping the woman.

"Can't you see they're fine, your Mommy, I mean. Instead of bumping into me like an angry rabbit, why don't you help her stand? Good child?" I replied with sarcasm. The boy looked at me with fear. Sorry, I'll say it again; I'm not a gentle girl. And I don't like troublesome things.

"Ariana. I beg you, please help me. Just this once." She begged with a whimper.

"Why should I help you? You were gone for fifteen years, and now, shamelessly, you're asking for my help? 'I have no connection with you and your father anymore. My daughter is only Karenina. Whatever happens to your father, I no longer care.' Those were your words back then, Madam. So, I'm sorry. I have no business with you and your daughter." I turned and walked away. But once again, someone held me back. This time, they grabbed my leg. What was this? The selfish woman was begging to me now? What kind of drama was she trying to pull off?

"I beg you. Please help me. Karenina is gone. She ran away while her wedding is tomorrow. Ariana, please help me. I begs you"

"I've already told you that I'm nobody to you. You have no right to ask anything of me. Not even the smallest help is appropriate."

"I will pay you, whatever you want," the voice came from the man who had helped the woman and was now being begged by her.

"How much can you pay?"

"Whatever you want. Or whatever you ask for," he replied confidently. A smile appeared on his face.

"Anything?" I challenged. The man's face lit up even more, nodding eagerly. "Anything," he replied assuredly.

"What if I ask for your child's heart as a replacement for the request your wife made?" I asked. The man furrowed his brow. The woman's grip on my leg weakened. "Why? You said you were willing to give 'anything,' right? Doesn't that mean you'd ask for something important to you? So, in return, I'm asking for something you consider important as well," I replied with a warm smile I could offer.

"Ariana..." my mother sighed. I crouched in front of her, aligning my face with her beautiful yet age-weathered face, which still appeared youthful due to expensive treatments.

"Why should I help you? You said 'anything' to me. Doesn't that mean you'd ask for something important to you? So, in exchange, I'm asking for something you consider important too." I answered with a warm smile I could muster.

She turned to look at me with her golden eyes, exactly like mine. I offered the warmest smile I could muster. "I'm sorry, ma'am. But I'm not the poor girl you abandoned back then. So, if you offer money to me, it means nothing to me. Even if I'm still poor right now, I won't accept a single cent you offer." I stood up, letting my voice grow louder. "Dignity?" I shifted my gaze to the man in front of me and the woman now crying at my feet. "To hell with dignity. We lost that when you left us, begging and pleading for you to come back. And your dignity? It's your business. Not mine." And without further ado, I chose to leave.

Gerald stared at his assistant with a sharp gaze. "Repeat what you just said?" he asked sharply. The middle-aged man who had worked for him since he was a baby looked back at him and replied in his usual flat tone.

"Your fiancée has disappeared," he repeated.

"Disappeared?" Gerald repeated the word. The older man nodded. "Disappeared, you say? How is that possible?" he asked in a raised voice.

The middle-aged man didn't flinch at all, even though Gerald was being rough with him. "One of the servants we pay contacted me, Sir. Your fiancée, Karenina, was declared missing just before dinner. Right now, everyone is searching for her. Quietly," he emphasized at the end of the sentence. The servant knew very well that his employer despised any commotion.

"How dare she!" Gerald seethed. His hand clenched tightly. "Prepare the car! We're going there right now. I need to confirm it myself." He gave the order brusquely. The middle-aged man bowed and left. "Oliver Brooks. How dare you embarrass me like this," he muttered sharply.

They had arrived at the Brooks family's house. Silence greeted Gerald and his assistant as they entered the luxurious three-story mansion. "M-Mr. Gerald," a stutter escaped from the lady of the house's mouth. Her beautiful face, which usually exuded grace and arrogance, now appeared pale. She forced a smile that made Gerald nauseous.

"Good evening, Mrs. Brooks," Gerald greeted with an extraordinary display of politeness. Gerald could see the woman squeezing her hands and swallowing nervously.

"Go-good evening," she still stammered. The older woman swallowed her saliva again before continuing. "Mr. Gerald, what are you doing here? How can the groom come to the bride's place? Have you forgotten that you two are in seclusion right now? You're not supposed to meet." She spoke at an incredible speed, clearly struggling to hide her nervousness.

"Yes, I am indeed the groom, Mrs. Brooks. But I've just heard the unfortunate news that my bride-to-be has disappeared."

"Huh?" Her false-eyelashed eyes widened. "Th-that's not true," she replied. The woman turned to her husband, who was sitting in a chair, massaging his temples. He seemed uninterested in responding or defending his wife.

"I hope this news hasn't reached my grandmother yet, Mrs. Brooks. Because I don't know what she'll say when she finds out her future granddaughter-in-law has disappeared just a day before the wedding." Gerald walked over to an empty single sofa. He sat down on the expensive leather sofa as if he were the owner of the house. His hand reached for an empty glass on the table and poured ice into it before pouring the amber liquid on top.

With casualness, Gerald swirled his glass. The clinking of the ice against the glass filled the silence. Slowly, Gerald sipped his whiskey, feeling the warmth spreading down his throat.

This marriage was an arranged one made by his mother and Mr. Brooks' wife. His grandmother had never approved of it, but there was a reason why she had reluctantly accepted the plan. A reason that couldn't be revealed to the public, not until after the wedding.

Mrs. Brooks hurriedly walked over to another sofa near Gerald. Her hand gripped the sofa's armrest tightly. Gerald could even see her red-knuckled fingers turning white from the strength of her grip. "N-no. Please don't say anything to Mrs. Zeroun," she pleaded hesitantly. "Karenina isn't missing. Maybe she's just taking a break because she's been confined to the house for a week now. She'll be back. I promise." Once again, Mrs. Brooks looked at him with a pleading expression.

Gerald leaned back casually, placing his right hand, which held the glass, on the sofa's arm before crossing his right leg over his left. He swirled his whiskey glass and took another sip. "Is that so, Mr. Brooks?" Gerald looked at the lady's husband with a flat yet intimidating gaze. The old man sitting across from him seemed to straighten his posture. "Well, well, well, Mrs. Brooks, why am I not getting a definite answer?"

Caitlyn Brooks now tried to hold onto Gerald's knee. Instantly, Gerald moved his leg to indicate she should stay away. The elderly woman murmured apologies. "No. Really. I can assure you that tomorrow's event will proceed as planned. Karenina will come back. Tomorrow she will be your companion at the wedding," she replied confidently.

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "What if she doesn't?"

"There's no 'what if.' I assure you she'll be there," Mrs. Brooks replied firmly.

Gerald smirked. "Very well, Mrs. Brooks. I'll leave it all to you. But if she doesn't return, then you understand the consequences, don't you?" Gerald's question this time genuinely frightened the woman. The lady of the house glanced at her husband, seeking assistance, but received no support whatsoever. "The financial injection from our family will be canceled," Gerald calmly stated.

"I'm not making empty threats, Mr. Oliver Brooks. You know how I operate. And this 'business' idea was your wife's suggestion. So, if you disgrace my family and tarnish the Zeroun name, then I won't hesitate to carry out my threats." Gerald sipped the remainder of his whiskey, then stood up. At the same time, a shout was heard.

"Mommy, that's Karen!" The voice of a young boy whom Gerald hadn't noticed earlier pointed towards the entrance. Gerald saw a beautiful girl with a familiar face standing there with an arrogant demeanor. Her gaze was directed at the shouting boy. There was no smile on her face, unlike the usual Karenina. There was no friendliness at all. Similar face, similar body shape, but so different. Very different. Gerald thought to himself. Even her clothing style was clearly very different.

The Karenina Gerald knew often wore dresses and only occasionally wore pants. But the Karenina before him now looked comfortable in tight-fitting long jeans that hugged her slender legs and hips.

Her sheer white blouse matched the tank top underneath. Trust me, it made people want to explore what lay beneath those clothes.

And her hair, Gerald furrowed his brow. The last time he saw Karenina, her hair reached her waist and was dyed brown. The girl in front of him had shiny black hair that was slightly shorter than Karenina's. Who was she?

"Sorry, I'm not Karenina," as if hearing the question in Gerald's mind, the girl spoke up. Even her voice sounded very much the same. It was just her intonation that was different.

Karenina's voice was usually soft and friendly. This girl in front of him came across as cynical. "I've come to see Mrs. Caitlyn," she said in a flat tone. Her head now turned to look around until it settled on one figure, the lady of the house.

"Ariana..." Gerald turned to see Mrs. Brooks looking at their guest in surprise. Then, with a quick but graceful movement, the lady approached, extending her arms as if to hug the guest. Instead of welcoming the gesture, the girl dodged it.

"Don't. How dare you. Approach. And touch me," she said with a clipped tone. Mrs. Brooks froze. "I didn't come here to be warmly welcomed. I'm only here to deliver this." The girl handed a white envelope to Mrs. Brooks, who accepted it with trembling hands and appeared to be crying. "Very well. My business is done. I have to go." The girl turned to leave. But their hostess stopped her.

"Wait." Mrs. Brooks pleaded. The girl in front of her froze. "Ka-Karen. She disappeared. Please, help me." She pleaded again.

'Mama?' What other surprises were in store?'

Gerald saw the girl raise an eyebrow. "Disappeared?" She asked sarcastically. "Your daughter disappeared? Then what's it got to do with me?" The girl turned again, Mrs. Brooks tried to stop her, but the girl rudely brushed away Mrs. Brooks's hand until the petite lady fell. At the same time, the young boy bumped into the girl. And the homeowner, who had moved at some point, was now helping his wife.

"Why are you being rough with Mommy!" The boy shouted. His slender fists clenched, looking at the guest with anger. The girl turned to look at the boy sharply.

"Can't you see them?" Gerald heard the girl growl. Her hand pointed to the middle-aged couple standing not far from them. "Your mommy is just fine." She said flatly. "Instead of bothering to ram into me like an angry little deer, why don't you help her up? Good boy?" Her tone was laced with sarcasm. Gerald smiled. Intriguing. The girl was quite intriguing.

"Ariana. I beg you. Please, help me. Just this once," the lady of the house spoke again with a pleading tone.

Mama. So who is this girl? Karenina's older or younger sister? One thing was clear; they looked like identical twins.

The girl stared sharply at Mrs. Brooks. "Why should I help you?" She asked flatly, contrasting with her piercing gaze. "Fifteen years you were gone, and now, shamelessly, you ask for my help?" Her tone suddenly changed. "'I have no connection with you and your father anymore. My daughter is only Karenina. Whatever happens to your father, I no longer care.' That's what you said some time ago, Mrs." It turned out the girl was mimicking someone's voice. "So sorry. I have no business with you and your daughter." The girl turned again. But once more, Mrs. Brooks held her back. This time, she clung to the girl's slender legs.

Ah, so she was the discarded child? Gerald smiled bitterly.

"I beg you. Please, help me. Karenina is gone. She ran away while her wedding is tomorrow. Ariana, please help me. I begs you," Mrs. Brooks pleaded once more.

All right, Gerald understood now. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. Mrs. Brooks was truly desperate over Karenina's departure, and she intended to make the girl in front of her a replacement.

Gerald smiled wryly once again. At this point, he would just be a spectator in this family drama.

He turned to his assistant, instructing the man to gather information about her. His assistant nodded and moved closer to overhear the conversation.

"I've already told you that I'm not anyone to you, and you have no right to ask anything from me. Not even a small favor," the girl rejected.

"I'll pay you, whatever you want," Gerald said, glancing at Mr. Brooks, the man who always acted superior.

He observed the girl's eyes, which now seemed interested in the offer from the homeowner.

Just like Gerald, who enjoyed observing her expression.

The girl looked at Mr. Brooks defiantly. His hands were folded across his chest. The shape of her breasts accentuated, which somehow attracted Gerald's attention. It makes his hands itch to touch it.

The girl raised her chin. "How much can you pay?" She challenged.

"Whatever you want. Or anything you ask for," Mr. Brooks replied. Gerald couldn't see the expression on the middle-aged man's face, but he was certainly feeling proud. Gerald wanted to hear the amount the woman would demand. Perhaps if Brooks couldn't pay, he would step in.

"Anything?" The girl challenged again. Mr. Brooks nodded, confident that he could fulfill whatever the girl desired. She smiled mockingly. "What if I ask for your child's heart in exchange for your wife's request?" She asked.

Gerald was shocked, very much so. He hadn't expected such words to come out of the girl's mouth. He had thought she would mention a large sum of money with many zeros behind it, but his assumption was clearly wrong.

The arrogant old man appeared to be stunned. "Why?" One of the girl's eyebrows arched. Gerald could hear a sigh. "You said you were willing to give 'anything,' right? Doesn't that mean you'd ask for something important to you? So, in exchange, I'm asking for something you deem important too," the girl replied.

"Ariana..." Mrs. Brooks sighed. She was still sitting on the floor, looking pitiful. The beautiful girl now knelt down and gazed at Mrs. Brooks.

Their eyes were locked. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm not the poor girl you abandoned back then. So, if you're offering money to me, it means nothing. Even if I'm still poor right now, I won't accept a single penny from you," the girl stood up. Her voice raised.

She looked around the house, but her gaze never met Gerald's. Then, her eyes returned to Mrs. Brooks. "Dignity?" She asked skeptically. Her eyes locked onto Oliver Brooks. "To hell with dignity! We haven't had that since you left us. Since you left us begging and pleading for you to come back. Your dignity is your business, not mine." And with that, the girl walked away.

Gerald couldn't deny the alluring sway of her hips as she walked away. It was a far cry from the dramatic scenes of television dramas, but her subtle and graceful demeanor had captured Gerald's attention. Despite her cold and hostile attitude throughout their encounter, the gentle sway of her hips as she walked sent a rush of desire through Gerald's lower body. Alright, it seemed like the tables had turned. If initially, it was his mother who had forced this marriage, now Gerald desired it. Not the marriage itself, but he yearned for the girl who had disappeared from his sight.

Gerald scrutinized the middle-aged couple in front of him. The man appeared furious, while the woman looked utterly miserable.

"So, can someone explain to me the meaning of this drama?" he asked with curiosity. The two middle-aged individuals seemed taken aback, momentarily forgetting that Gerald was still present.

"Um, well, you see..." Mrs. Brooks appeared nervous again. "I thought she could be a backup bride in case Karenina doesn't return," she answered hesitantly.

Gerald tried to conceal his interest in the girl. "A replacement bride? Like that?" Mrs. Brooks nodded, trembling. "So, who is she?"

"She's Karenina's identical twin sister," she replied weakly. It was a fact that Gerald had suspected earlier and had now confirmed. So, all this time, his future wife had an identical twin sister, a fact kept hidden from the public. Gerald was certain that there were more facts he would uncover if his assistant succeeded in his task.

Gerald could only smile to himself. He would wait and act accordingly based on the information he would gather.