The Substitute Heiress

From the Beginning

Chapter 9: From the Beginning

Warrick

Months earlier.

My father's office was a sanctuary of seriousness and business, with its vast mahogany desk dominating the room, leather-bound books stacked on shelves that reached the ceiling, and portraits of Renfield ancestors sternly looking down from the walls. Here, my fate took a decisive turn one rainy afternoon.

"Warrick, it's time for you to take your future seriously," began my father, his voice echoing with that authority which had shaped our family fortune. "You need a wife, someone who is worthy of our name and can help you manage our affairs when I am no longer here."

I absentmindedly played with a pen, avoiding his gaze. I knew this day would come, but facing it was another story. Since I was at least 15, my father had only talked to me about the day when I would have to take the reins of my future, which also included the company. So, I dedicated myself to enjoying the last years of my life knowing that my future was waiting to lock me in an office for the rest of my life.

Maybe I wanted to show my father that I wouldn't be a great company director, so he would stop pressuring me and talking about "that day," but the day had arrived and I still didn't feel prepared for it.

"I understand, Father, but is it really urgent? I'm still young," I replied, though I knew it was futile and that I was closer to 30 than to 20.

"Warrick, it's not about age. It's about responsibility and preserving the Renfield legacy. You can't continue living like a commitment-free playboy. It's time to settle down."

"There's plenty of time for that," I responded, trying to stay calm.

"Not when the Renfield surname is at stake. We can't afford more scandals or irresponsibilities on your part. I'm tired of seeing the lawyer every day to deny your escapades. You need a wife, someone who strengthens your image and that of our family. And until I meet that woman, I will no longer sponsor your whims. Either you marry or you find a job elsewhere."

His tone was final. I knew there was no room for argument, but still, the idea of marrying for convenience churned my stomach, yet the thought of becoming poor was even more unsettling. I couldn't contemplate that ever. I nodded resignedly, knowing it was pointless to argue. My father's decisions were rarely debatable. I had never won an argument against him; I didn't know how he did it, but he had a convincing power for business, and that's why he was such a successful man.

A few days later, as I was having tea with my mother in the greenhouse, where the light filtered through the glass gave the plants an almost ethereal glow, we talked about everything and nothing at the same time, and then the fate of the Carlisles came up.

"The Carlisles are on the verge of bankruptcy," my mother casually mentioned, looking at an orchid as if the drama of our neighbors was written on its petals.

"Really? Cassandra has a boutique, doesn't she? I've always heard it was doing well. I don't see why they would be in bankruptcy."

The Carlisles, like us, were a family from London's elite. Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle were quite close to my parents, often frequenting the same clubs and sharing similar tastes. On the other hand, their daughter, Cassandra Carlisle, was the complete opposite of what one would expect from an elite heiress. She was everything opposite to me.

I had heard a few years ago that she went abroad for her studies. Upon returning, she created her own boutique, and I knew about it because she rented one of my family's properties on one of the most prestigious streets in London.

Cassandra was never like the other women in our circle; she always stood out in school, was very intelligent, and cared little for appearances.

"Yes, but it seems that her success has not been enough to save her family from a bad investment. They're desperate, Warrick."

Something about the way my mother presented the situation got the wheels in my mind turning. I knew Cassandra by sight, of course, because I don't recall having exchanged more than 10 words throughout our lives. She was beautiful, intelligent, and most importantly, in need of a solution as desperate as I was.

"Mother, what if I propose to Cassandra? It could be a solution for both of us. She saves her family from ruin, and I fulfill Father's demand."

"What demand?" she asked, although I sensed she already knew.

"He wants me to find a wife."

My mother looked at me, first with surprise, then with slow calculation crossing her expression.

"That... could work. But do you think she would accept such an arrangement?"

"I'll find out," I said, more determined than I had been in years.

I began to visit her boutique regularly, never entering, just observing her go in and stay there all day among customers and orders. I didn't get too close, always keeping a distance pretending interest in the shops next to her business. I watched Cassandra move gracefully among fabrics and customers, her easy laugh and genuine smile.

My mother would speak to her mother, and it took less than a week to plan how to tell her everything. Meanwhile, I was stalking who I hoped would be my future wife. The day my mother told me that Mrs. Carlisle would speak with Cassandra, I celebrated grandly. She hadn't accepted yet, but I was sure she would. Cassandra was a woman who would think of others' welfare before her own, she would do it for her family, I was very sure of it.

The next day, when my mother called to tell me they had accepted, I felt completely relieved. My father would no longer be on my back, and I would soon be able to use the money that belonged to me.

The first day we met, I could tell that the idea of being with me completely displeased her. At first, I didn't understand the reason until her few words let me read between the lines how much she disliked my presence and my way of life.

My words tried to convince her, but the surprise on her face was evident. However, after explaining her financial situation and mine, and how we could solve our problems together, she considered my offer.

And she accepted.

And I celebrated my victory again. It would be a relationship of convenience, an arranged marriage, a contract of "love" that we would both sign for the financial benefit we deserved. In my view, this was a "win-win," but looking into her eyes, I felt that for her, all this was complete crap, but she would do it for the love of her parents.

Her decision that I should not be with other women surprised me; it was a requirement she asked of me, something a bit hard for me, but I accepted because the money that was due to me was worth more than a thousand women.

Clearly, I would miss not having the company of women every night; I would greatly miss sleeping around and being with them, but I would miss the money even more if my father never gave it to me. I had to sacrifice one year for my own good. I could do it.

And so, on an afternoon full of negotiations, we sealed our fate. Not as lovers, not even as friends, but as partners in a marriage of convenience. Although we both knew the truth behind our engagement, we would have to maintain the facade, especially from my father, who must never know that his son had entered into marriage not for love, but for survival.

As I frequented Cassandra's boutique, our relationship began to develop an oddly comfortable dynamic. She, always professional and polite, and I, increasingly interested in the details of her life and business. My visits became more frequent, and even though she repeated that she did not like me being there, I did it more because I discovered a certain pleasurable delight in seeing her annoyed.

One day, while observing Cassandra advising a client on the best accessories for a gala, the idea that we could really make this work began to take shape in my mind. However, the shadow of a man appeared. I recognized him instantly; I had seen him a couple of times but did not recognize his name, though I knew he was a magnate, and Cassandra's look at him, I didn't like at all.

He kept showing up, always present at social events. Every time I saw him talking to her, that strange pinch returned, an uncomfortable feeling that I preferred to ignore.

It wasn't jealousy, I told myself. It was just a recognition of what I might lose if I didn't act quickly.

I soon told Cassandra to be careful, just as she had demanded I not be with other women, I had to do the same. At this rate, I feared this damned Robert might steal the woman I had been pursuing for so long; she was mine. I had chosen her and I didn't want some i***t like him taking her away from me.

My words came out like a reproach from a couple in love, but I didn't care how it looked, I would not allow a woman to cheat on me with someone else, especially not the woman who would be my fiancée.

We were both in this together, the rules applied to both of us and I hoped never to run into Robert again in my life nor have to remind Cassandra in front of everyone to whom she belonged.

After that, our relationship became more bearable, it was easier to talk to each other, but then Cassandra began to feel afraid, to think that she was not doing the right thing and I had to be more attentive to her and make sure she didn't leave me shortly before our wedding.

I couldn't afford to lose my money, everything was for the money. I repeated that to myself over and over again, ignoring the pang in my chest every time I imagined Cassandra away from me.

It was all for the money, there was no other reason.

There couldn't be any other reason.