The CEO Fell for His Dead Wife

Regina woke with a dull ache behind her eyes, the kind that came from restless sleep and unspoken dread. The ceiling above her felt too close, as if the house itself were pressing down on her, listening, waiting.

She lay still for a moment, counting her breaths.

One.

Two.

Three.

From down the hallway came Sasha’s laughter—light, effortless, alive. It floated through the walls like music that didn’t belong to Regina’s world. She squeezed her eyes shut.

*Of course*, she thought bitterly. *Sasha always wakes up winning.*

At breakfast, the difference between them was impossible to ignore.

Sasha descended the stairs dressed in soft cream silk, her hair loose, her smile radiant. Their mother’s face brightened instantly.

“You look beautiful,” she said, standing to adjust Sasha’s collar. “Just perfect.”

Regina sat already at the table, wearing a plain blouse and neatly pressed skirt. No one commented. Her presence was acknowledged only when the maid poured her tea.

Sasha slipped into her seat gracefully. “Father, I spoke to Aunt Eleanor last night,” she said casually. “She mentioned the Harrisons again.”

Regina’s fingers paused around her cup.

Her father looked up, interested. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Sasha continued, eyes glinting. “She said Damian Harrison is… quite different from what people expected. Cold. Distant. Not exactly the type for marriage, if you ask me.”

Their mother frowned. “That’s precisely why a proper woman would be necessary. A stabilizing influence.”

Sasha smiled faintly. “I suppose so. Still, I don’t think I’d suit someone like him. I value warmth. Romance.”

Regina felt the shift immediately—the subtle repositioning of responsibility, the quiet clearing of space.

Her father’s gaze slid to Regina.

“You, however,” he said slowly, “are adaptable.”

The word landed like a verdict.

Regina looked up, meeting his eyes for the briefest second before lowering her gaze. Adaptable. That was what they called obedience. Silence. Endurance.

“Yes, Father,” she said.

Sasha watched her over the rim of her cup, her smile polite, her eyes sharp. Regina knew that look. It was the look Sasha wore when she was winning something Regina didn’t yet know she was losing.

---

By midday, the pressure became impossible to ignore.

Regina was summoned home early from medical school—*family business*, her mother had said curtly over the phone. The words alone made Regina’s stomach knot.

She entered the sitting room to find her parents seated side by side, formal and composed. Sasha stood near the window, sunlight framing her like a portrait.

Regina stopped just inside the doorway.

“You called for me,” she said quietly.

Her mother gestured to the chair opposite them. “Sit.”

Regina obeyed.

Her father folded his hands. “We’ve made a decision,” he began. “One that will benefit this family greatly.”

Regina’s pulse quickened. She already knew—somehow, she had always known—that this moment would come.

“The Harrisons have proposed a contractual marriage,” her mother continued. “An alliance.”

Regina’s breath caught. “For… Sasha?” she asked, though the answer was already written on their faces.

Sasha turned slowly from the window. “I refused.”

The words were soft. Final.

“I’m not suited for such an arrangement,” Sasha said gently. “And Father agrees it would be… unwise to force me.”

Regina felt something crack inside her chest.

Her father’s gaze returned to her. “You will take her place.”

The room went silent.

Regina stared at him, the words echoing over and over in her head. *You will take her place.*

“I—” Her voice faltered. She swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to,” her mother said coolly. “You only need to comply.”

Regina’s hands trembled in her lap. “You want me to marry someone I’ve never met?”

“Yes.”

“Someone I know nothing about?”

“Yes.”

Her father’s voice hardened. “This is not a discussion, Regina. This is duty.”

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure they could hear it. “What about my studies? My career?”

“You will continue them,” her mother replied dismissively. “If circumstances allow.”

If.

Regina turned to Sasha, desperation slipping through her composure. “You’re okay with this?”

Sasha met her gaze calmly. “It’s not personal, Regina. It’s just… reality.”

Reality.

The word tasted like ash.

“You’ve always been good at carrying burdens,” Sasha added softly. “Stronger than you look.”

Regina realized then that this had been decided long before she entered the room. Her role had already been written. The outsider. The substitute. The sacrifice.

She nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”

And in that moment, something inside her went very still.

---

That night, Regina stood alone on her balcony, the city sprawling endlessly below. Somewhere out there was Damian Harrison—the man she was to marry without choice, without voice, without consent.

She had never seen his face. Never heard his voice.

Only rumors.

Cold.

Dangerous.

Untouchable.

The wind brushed against her skin, carrying the faint scent of rain. Regina wrapped her arms around herself, feeling smaller than she ever had.

*I won’t survive this*, she thought.

Then, quieter, more frightening—

*Or maybe I won’t remain myself at all.*

Far below, the city lights flickered.

And fate quietly began to move.