Alpha Santa

A Ticket out of Hell

Piper Redding

The drive to my parents' house feels endless, the engine's steady hum failing to drown out the unease twisting in my stomach. When I finally pull up, the sprawling estate looms ahead, picture-perfect as always—a constant reminder of everything I’m not.

I step onto the stone path, and before I even reach the heavy oak door, it swings open. Mom stands there, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

“You’re late,” she snaps, her voice as sharp as the chill in the evening air. “We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“Sorry, traffic,” I mutter, brushing past her into the warmth of the house.

Inside, my sister, Paige, is already at the dining table with Greg, her fiancé. She glances up, her perfectly styled blonde hair catching the light just right, as always.

“Traffic?” she repeats with a smirk. “Or did that clunker of yours break down again? Poor thing couldn’t handle the speed limit. You really should upgrade, Piper.”

I force a tight smile and head straight for the chair farthest from hers, my jaw clenched.

“Let’s eat,” Dad says, attempting to cut through the tension before it boils over.

Dinner is uneventful—quite—or at least it would’ve been if you don’t count Paige and Greg’s nauseating display. Greg feeds her forkfuls of pasta, and she giggles, leaning in to take a bite. like she’s starring in a rom-com.

“You’re ridiculous,” she coos, her tone syrupy sweet.

Greg leans in closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Only for you, babe.”

They burst into laughter, the sound loud and grating, and my parents’ faces lit up practically glowing with approval like kids watching their favourite movie.

“Oh, look at them,” Mom gushes, placing a hand over her heart. “They’re so in love. Reminds me of us, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” my father agrees, his eyes soft as he looked at her with the kind of warmth they’ve never directed my way.

I shove a piece of bread into my mouth to keep from groaning, my chest tightening with a mix of jealousy and resentment. It’s not that I don’t love my family. I just never feel like I belong in their picture-perfect world. I feel like a visitor. Maybe I am. So where do I belong?

“So, Paige, how’s work at the hospital?” Dad asks, steering the conversation to exactly where it always went.

Paige beams. “Busy, as always. But I love it. Helping people, making a difference—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“That’s my girl,” Mom says, her pride practically dripping off every word. “We couldn’t be prouder.”

Then, like clockwork, they turn to me. My whole body tenses. Here it comes.

“And you, Piper?” Mom asks, her tone taking on that familiar edge of disappointment and criticism. “How’s the... what do you call it again? Party business?”

“It’s called being a child entertainer, Mom,” I say evenly. “And it’s going fine. The kids love it.”

“I’m sure they do,” she says, lips pursed. “But don’t you ever think about doing something more… meaningful? Something with a real future? You could’ve been a doctor, like Paige

My grip tightens on my fork, but I force myself to stay calm. “I like what I do. Making kids happy is meaningful to me.”

“But is it sustainable?” Dad chimes in, piling on as usual as if I hadn’t heard this argument a thousand times before. “What about your future, Piper? Don’t you want stability?”

Paige laughs, breaking the tension in the worst way. “Maybe she’s just waiting for Prince Charming to come and rescue her.”

Mom perks up at that, her eyes narrowing in on me. “Speaking of Prince Charming, where is Adam? Why didn’t you invite him tonight?”

The air grows heavy, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “We broke up,” I mutter, hoping they’ll let it go.

“More like he dumped you,” Paige says, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.

That does it. I slam my fork down, glaring at her. “You don’t know anything, Paige. So maybe keep your mouth shut for once.”

“Piper!” Mom snaps. “That’s no way to speak to your sister.”

Paige smirks, victorious, while Greg excuses himself to the bathroom. The tension lingers, thick and suffocating, until Dad clears his throat.

“Your mother and I have something important to share,” he announces.

Paige and I exchange confused glances as Mom’s serious expression returns.

“We’ve been discussing this for a while,” she begins, looking between us. “And we’ve decided it’s time to give you both a fair chance to claim your inheritance.”

“What does that mean?” Paige asks, leaning forward, curiosity already gleaming in her eyes.

Dad clears his throat again. “Whoever gets married before Valentine’s Day will inherit everything.”

“What?” I blurt out, my head snapping up.

Mom raises a hand, cutting me off before I can say more. “However, if both of you get married within that time frame, the inheritance will be split evenly.”

Paige’s jaw drops, but only for a second. She recovered quickly, her lips curling into a smug smile. She turns to me, her confidence radiating like a spotlight.

“Well, looks like I’ve got this in the bag,” she says smugly, glancing toward the hallway where Greg had disappeared. “Good luck finding someone willing to put up with you in two months.”

I stare at her, my mind spinning. The room feels too small, the walls closing in as her words cut deeper than I want to admit. My parents watch us, their expressions calm but expectant, as if this entire conversation were perfectly reasonable.

Two months. To find a husband or risk walking away with nothing. I needed that inheritance; it could change everything for me. If only Adam hadn’t cheated on me, maybe things would be different walk away with nothing.

My throat tightens, but I refuse to let her see me falter. I straighten my back, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.“We’ll see.”

“And there’s one more condition,” he says calmly, like he’s delivering some kind of corporate merger plan instead of dictating the rest of my life.

My mother nods in agreement, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the table. “To ensure that you don’t rush into a hasty divorce, you’ll need to stay married for at least two years or—” She pauses for dramatic effect, as if this isn’t insane enough. “You’ll need to produce a grandchild within the first year.”

My jaw drops. “You want us to… what?!”

“A grandchild, Piper,” my mom repeats, as if I just asked her to define the word. “Or at least stay married long enough to prove the relationship is legitimate. It’s only fair.”

Fair? I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from screaming. My mind is reeling. Three years. A baby. For money? “This is insane,” I manage, my voice trembling with frustration.

“You’ve had plenty of time to settle down,” my dad says, his expression impassive. “You just haven’t taken it seriously. This is your chance to prove you can commit.”

“I don’t even—”

“Sorry about that,” Greg’s voice interrupts as he walks back into the dining room, looking far too pleased with himself for a man wearing socks with sandals. “Did I miss something?”

Paige’s smug smile widens. “Just a little family update. No big deal.”

“Uh-huh,” Greg says, settling beside her, clearly oblivious to the tension. He kisses Paige’s temple, and she giggles like a schoolgirl. I want to roll my eyes so far back I could see my brain.

I glare at my parents. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“Oh, but it is,” my mom says, standing up with a satisfied look. “We’ve said what we needed to. The rest is up to you girls.”

---

Dinner finally ends, and I grab my coat, ready to escape this madhouse.

“Piper, darling,” my mom calls as I head for the door. “Why don’t you stay the night? It’s been so long since we’ve all spent time together as a family.”

I laugh under my breath. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll pass.”

“Are you sure?” my dad chimes in, leaning casually against the doorframe like he didn’t just turn my life upside down.

“I’m sure,” I say, my voice clipped. “I have... things to do.”

“Suit yourself,” Paige says, lounging on the couch like a queen. “Good luck with... everything.” Her smirk practically follows me out the door.

---

When I get home, the silence feels deafening. The small apartment that used to feel cozy now feels suffocating. Adam’s ghost lingers in every corner—his jacket still hanging on the back of the chair, his stupid cologne faintly clinging to the throw pillows.

I rip open the closet and start yanking out everything he left behind. Sweatshirts, socks, a watch I once gave him for Christmas—all of it goes into a trash bag. Each item feels like another shard of heartbreak I’m purging from my life.

As I toss the bag into the trash can, a glint of something shiny catches my eye. Curious, I pull it out, and my heart sinks when I see what it is.

The ticket.

I stare at it, my throat tightening. I had spent every penny I’d saved to buy this—for our fifth anniversary. It was supposed to be a dream getaway to a private island, just the two of us and a few other couples. I wanted us to explore, to go on an adventure together. To create memories.

And now? Now it’s just a reminder of how stupid I was to believe in him.

My eyes drop to the fine print on the ticket. The final flight departs on December 8th. I clench the paper, tempted to tear it apart, but then a thought slips in, quiet and cunning. The ticket expires in three days.

An idea blooms, dangerous and wild.

What if I go?

What if I find someone there? Someone who can pretend to be my husband for a few months ? My parents don’t care about love—they care about appearances.

I could pull this off. Marry someone for the inheritance, stick it out for two years, and then go our separate ways. With the money, I could finally do something real—with my life.

I run my fingers over the ticket, forcing myself to push past my fears.

It’s reckless. It’s insane.

But it might just be exactly what I need.