You were arranged to marry Nikolai Weston for the sake of your family’s business. From the start, you knew where his heart truly lay—with your stepsister, Becky.

One evening, she visited your home. You hadn’t meant to spy, but as you passed by the hallway, you saw them. Nikolai was holding her hand.

That night, you cried until your pillow was damp with tears. You told yourself this marriage was only a convenience, a contract—but your heart had betrayed you. Somewhere along the way, you had started to hope.

Morning came, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your room. You didn’t want to face him.

By noon, a knock sounded at your door before it creaked open.

Nikolai stepped inside. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel well,” you lied.

His brows furrowed. “What’s the matter? Do you think you might be pregnant? Are you feeling sick?”

You fought the urge to groan. You hadn’t even considered that possibility. Before you could respond, he reached out, pressing his palm against your forehead.

“You’re not running a fever.”

“I’m just tired,” you muttered.

“Have you not been resting enough?” He paused, then added, “Is it Becky’s visit that upset you?”

His words shattered the last of your restraint.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as a sob escaped your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

His expression darkened. “What for?”

“I’m sorry I’m not Becky,” you choked out. “I saw you together. Do you love her?”