The Substitute Bride He Could Never Replace

Neriah's POV

"But what about me , on the other hand?" My voice was harsher than I wanted it to be, I asked. "Say it plainly."

Darius put his hands on top of his desk. "You will replace Elara, because she is too young to marry.

I did laugh for a second. It wasn't funny - I didn't think there was anything funny about this - but I didn't know what else to say.

"No," I said as soon as I found the words to say. "Absolutely not."

"Neriah-"

I cut him short, "I'm not marrying someone I don't know to save your business. I don't even know this man, I've never met this man. You're asking me to give up my life because your business is failing? And your daughter is too young to marry?"

Darius' voice grew louder, "It's not simply my business. "It's the future of this family."

"This family? What family?" I shot back.

Next to me, Elara sneered, uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. "Oh, please, don't make it sound like you  are somehow sacrificing so much, Neriah, you've never done anything for this family, the least you could do is help when we need you."

I turned around and saw her. "Help you? My name is not on the fucking paper." 

"And now it's up to you to fix," she said simply as if that would be enough.

"One more word... and you'll be next for the doctor's to fix." I hissed, my hands clenched into dust. 

Darius slammed his hand down on the desk saying, "Enough! He glared at me, his face turning dark. "You have done nothing for this family, Neriah. You've done nothing at all. This is your opportunity to be useful."

My chest froze.My chest became cold and still. "Useful," I said softly.

"Yes."

I told her "You have never treated me like family. Not once. My mother was the only one here who cared if I lived or died, and the day she died, you stopped pretending I was even here. And now you want me to do something for the family! Family?"

"That's not true-"

"Yes," I said, my trembling voice not out of fear but rage, "it is true. You don't use that word – family – now after all these years just because it's convenient for you. Just because you need something from me."

Darius's face was furiously contorted. He jumped off his chair-fast-it almost fell back-before I knew what was happening, his palm hit my cheek hard.

I had my head knocked on my side by its force. I felt something warm in my mouth, blood.

Silence fell over the room. Even Elara didn't say anything.

I straightened slowly, and spat the blood on the study's floor as I looked at my father.

"I am not getting married to him." I said coldly, then turned around and walked out.

I didn't run. I made myself walk, even though every part of me wanted to bolt. I climbed the stairs, went straight to my room, and locked the door behind me before finally letting myself shake.

It didn't take long before I heard him.

"Neriah." It was Darius's voice, firm and controlled, that came through the door. "Open this door."

I said nothing. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, pressing a tissue to my cut lip, looking at the wood grain of the door as if it would provide me with some answers.

"Neriah, you are playing with fire" He knocked harder. "Open the door."

I stayed silent.

"You can just say no to this?" he shouted. "This is my family and I rule it. You will do as I say!"

I didn't even respond. His footsteps went back down the hallway, however.

After that, I sat for a long time, just staring at nothing with my mind spinning through all of what has just happened. I recalled the email I had sent to the NGO. I considered the two months that Dr. Whitfield had given me. I considered the life I would be forced to live if I ever accepted that marriage. 

I couldn't stay. No more sleeping on his porch.

Out of my closet, I took a bag and packed fast, putting together my changes of clothes, medical records, and the little cash I had in my pocket. I didn't have a plan other than escaping, even though I had no destination. I knew I had to be anywhere else than here.

I only got as far as the bottom of the stairs.

Before I got to the door, two of my father's guards came into my way. I wanted to get away from them but one got hold of my arm.

I twisted against his hold, "Let go of me.Let go of me," I said, twisting against his hold.

They didn't pull me too far. I was placed down a narrow flight of stairs into the basement where they left me alone in the low light of the basement with my bag in my hand.

After what seemed like forever, Darius came down to meet me. I held my breath for more yelling, perhaps another slap.

Rather, he remained tranquil and composed.

Unnervingly calm.

He pointed to a chair close to the wall, "Sit."

I didn't move. "I don't want to  sit anywhere, let me go." 

He didn't argue. He just walked up to me and deposited a little bag on the table next to me and then walked away and looked at me expectantly.

I frowned and stretched out my hand and opened it. In there were rows of medicine bottles, a case of syringes, all of which I knew.

My treatment.

"Why do you need to have this? I whispered. 

Again he said, "Sit down, Neriah," and I did, slowly, not looking up at him, my eyes never taking my eyes off the bag.

Darius moved the other chair over and sat down across from me. "Since you were a child, you knew that your condition could take your life before you turned twenty-one, that was made clear to your mother, to me.

"Tell me something I don't know." I snapped at him. 

"Then you're also aware that without proper treatment, you won't make it much further," he said. "I want you alive, Neriah. I want you alive and in good health to finish this marriage."

"So," I said, "this is what it's all about. You suddenly care about my health all because you need me?"

"Look , I'm not going to lie," he said. "I will pay for your treatment - everything, anything, as long as you agree to getting married."

My mind raced and I stared at him. The  e-mail to the NGO seemed to be both small and unsure in comparison to what he was giving me, something he was guaranteeing me, immediate and unlimited, and proof of it  was sitting right in front of me in a bag on the table.

"You're giving me a chance to live, so you can control my life?" I mumbled.

"Im  giving you the opportunity to live, Darius corrected. "Time spent after that is a matter for you."

I scanned at the bag of pills and back at him. I wanted to say no, I wanted to spit in his face like I did upstairs. But the two months Dr. Whitfield had given me resonated in my mind, and under the anger was something more primitive, something that had been with me all my life - the basic, desperate desire to live.

"Let's help one another," Darius said, watching me intently. "I have your treatment secured, you marry Cassian in Elara's place, that's all this requires. Easy peasy." 

My jaw clenched tight, my hands gripping the strap of my bag, I said nothing.

Darius shifted his gaze to mine as he leaned slightly over.

"Would you help me help you?"