Trapped In Her World

Thunder rolled across the sky, echoing like a warning through the wall of the whitemore mansion.

Rain lashed at the tall windows of the guestroom where Dianna sat frozen, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

She was dressed in silk white, flawless, delicate.

The same robe Daphne was supposed to wear in her wedding day.

But Daphne wasn't here.

She had vanished.

Two night ago.

And no one, not the police, not her friends, not even Alex knew where she was. Because the truth had been smothered under layers of panic and pride.

Diana's mother paced the room, her heels tapping against the marble floor.

Her father stood by the window, stiff and silent, arms crossed like a soldier preparing for war.

"You have to do this," her mother finally said, her voice sharp despite the crack of emotion beneath it, "There's no other way. The guest are already arriving. The press is outside. Alex is downstair."

Dianna swallowed hard, her heart thudding painfully ,"This is insane. Pretend to be Daphne? Marry her finacé? What if he notices?"

Her father turned, eyes bloodshot from two sleepless night, "he won't. He doesn't know you exist."

That truth sliced deeper than she expected.

Dianna had lived in the shadows for most of her life, while Daphne was paraded at events.

Dianna was sent to Europe for school, then told to stay there. No one outside the family even knew she was Daphne's twin.

That was intentional.

It had always been Daphne, the star. Daphne, the beautiful one.

Daphne the bride-to-be of Alex Kingston, the billionaire CEO of Kingston Holdings, one of the most powerful men in the country.

Dianna bit her lips, "And what happens when he realizes? I don't talk like her. I don't smile like her neither do I know the things she knows."

Her mother stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, "we've trained you for this moment since you both were children, you know how to mimic her. We made sure of it,"

"All you have to do is get through today. The rest... we'll figure it out."

Dianna flinched at the word "trained." It was true.

From childhood, their parents had always compared them, corrected her, 'stand like Daphne.' , 'speak like daphne.' , ' be like daphne.'

Back then, she thought it was cruel.

Now, it was apparently necessary.

Still, her heart clenched with guilt and fear, "but what if she's hurt? What if something terrible happened?"

Her father's expression darkened. "We're doing everything we can. The police think she left voluntarily. But we know better."

Dianna frowned, "what does that mean," she asked.

Her father looked away.

Her mother answered instead, " there were threats, from men your father did business with," she look at Dianna eyes, "dangerous man. He tried to make it right, but–"

"But they wanted more," her father cut in, his voice low and heavy, "I think they took her as leverage."

Dianna's blood ran cold, "The Mafia?"

He didn't deny it. And that was enough.

Dianna stood up abruptly, "then we should be calling off the wedding! Telling Alex! Not pretending everything is fine."

"And risk the media tearing us apart?" Her mother snapped. "Risk Alex pulling out of the merger? Risk losing everything we've built?"

"I've already owes them more than we can repay," her father added quietly. "If we lose Alex, we loose the Brandy name."

Dianna turned away from them, her chest tightening.

So this was really about business. Image. Reputation.

Not even Daphne.

They didn't care about Daphne's safety as much as they cared about their empire.

Tears prickled the corners of Dianna's eyes, she blinked them away, "you now want me to marry a man who doesn't love me."

"No," her mother said gently. "We want you to pretend to the woman he loves, his until we find her."

Just.

Such a small word, for such a massive lie.

Dianna's heart cracked a little more, she had met Alex only once.

From a distance.

A charity gala two years ago, he had his arm around Daphne and a possessive gleam in his eyes.

He wasn't just powerful, he was magnetic, charismatic, controlling.

A man used to owning everything he touched.

And yet, for Daphne, he had softened.

Everyone saw it.

He listened when she spoke.

He smile when she teased him, he spoiled her but also gave her space.

He loved her, in his own complex way.

And now, Dianna had to step into that love.

A counterfeit bride.

A lie with a veil.

"I don't want to decieve him," she whispered.

"He's already lost her. He just doesn't know it yet," her mother exhaled shakily. "If you love your sister, you'll protect her until we can bring her back."

"And if I do this," Dianna said, lifting her gaze, "what happens to me? what happen to my own life? What happen when the real bride returns?"

Neither of them answered, because the truth was they didn't care.

Dianna was a tool. A pawn to preserve the family legacy.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the bouquet waiting beside her.

"I'll do it," she said finally, voice hollow, "but don't expect me to give Daphne aura."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The church was fully packed with high society, flashing cameras, Designer gowns and suit, press whispering and murmuring.

The orchestra played a haunting rendition of canon hymn as Dianna stood at the top of the grand aisle, her face veiled, her heart in her throat.

Alex stood at the altar.

Tall, sharp jawed, dressed in a crisp black tux. He was watching her approach, his expression unreadable.

She walked slowly, deliberately. Every step echoed with guilt.

She could feel his eyes on her, studying her.

And she already knew.

Thinking he had sensed something was off, that his Daphne smiled at him when she walked, waved playfully and even winked sometimes.

But all this she couldn't do them.

Dianna kept her face still.

But inside, her heart screamed.

When she reached the altar, he offered his hand and she placed her to his.

It was warm, strong and steady.

"Finally we're getting married," he murmured with a smile, leaning close.

Dianna forced a smile.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing more.

The ceremony began.

Words were spoken.

Vows are exchanged.

And when he kissed her, she felt nothing but dread.

Because the man who kissed her believed she was someone else.