A Cure Called You

Marionette Vale knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into the banquet hall.

Her family was smiling at her.

Her father, stepmother, and stepsister stood near the center of the room, watching her approach with identical warm expressions.

For a brief moment, Marionette considered turning around and walking straight back out.

They had never smiled at her before.

Not in private.

Not in public.

Not once in the ten years since her mother died.

Her mother had been the only person in the Vale household who had ever treated her like family. When she died, warmth disappeared from the mansion like the last candle being extinguished in a dark room.

Eleanor Vale approached her first, elegant in a cream-colored gown that probably cost more than most people earned in a year.

She took Marionette’s hands with practiced affection.

“There you are, my dear,” Eleanor said sweetly. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Marionette forced a polite smile even though every instinct in her body warned her that something was wrong.

Earlier that afternoon, Eleanor had personally delivered the gown Marionette was wearing.

That alone had been shocking.

Not because the dress was beautiful, but because Eleanor had never bought her anything before.

The gown had been labeled custom couture, but Marionette recognized it immediately.

It was one of Vivian’s discarded dresses.

Still, she had accepted it.

She had nothing else to wear.

What Marionette did not understand was why this banquet was happening at all.

Vale Group was collapsing. Their stock prices had crashed, creditors were circling like vultures, and the banks were already beginning to close in.

Yet tonight, the hall overflowed with Monaco’s wealthiest families.

Before Marionette could think further, Vivian appeared beside her and linked their arms together as if they were loving sisters.

“You were late,” Vivian said with a smirk disguised as sweetness. “Father was starting to worry.”

That alone was disturbing.

Richard Vale had never worried about her a single day in his life.

“I’m here now,” Marionette replied calmly.

Across the room, Richard lifted his champagne glass.

The music softened.

Conversations gradually died away as dozens of curious eyes turned toward the Vale family.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Richard began smoothly, “thank you all for attending the thirteenth anniversary celebration of Vale Group.”

Polite applause followed.

Then his hand settled heavily on Marionette’s shoulder.

“There is another joyful announcement I would like to make tonight.”

Eleanor’s grip tightened around Marionette’s hand.

Vivian’s smile widened.

A sudden sense of dread crawled slowly down Marionette’s spine.

“My daughter, Marionette Vale,” Richard continued proudly, “will be getting married.”

A ripple of surprise moved through the hall.

Marionette went completely still.

Her blood turned cold.

Married?

To who?

Richard raised his glass higher.

“And not just to anyone,” he added. “My daughter will be marrying Cassius Volkov.”

The reaction was immediate.

The name struck the room like a gunshot.

Even the musicians hesitated.

Whispers erupted across the hall.

“Cassius Volkov?”

“The cripple?”

“The one in the wheelchair?”

“They say he’s insane.”

“I heard he’s dangerous.”

“They say he never leaves the estate.”

Marionette stood frozen while the murmurs spread around her like wildfire.

Then something strange happened.

One of the television screens mounted near the bar flickered briefly.

For half a second, she thought she saw the outline of a man seated in a chair.

Watching her.

Then the image vanished.

When she looked again, the screen had gone black.

No one else seemed to notice.

And in that moment, Marionette understood everything.

She had not been invited to this banquet.

She had been displayed.

Presented and sold like an asset placed before potential investors.

Something inside her went frighteningly quiet.

The applause that followed sounded distant and uneven.

Marionette could feel people staring at her, their curiosity crawling across her skin.

“Smile,” Eleanor whispered beside her.

“You’re a bride now.”

Marionette turned slowly and glared at her.

The rest of the evening blurred together after that.

Marionette stood near the tall windows with a champagne glass in her hand, barely aware of the conversations around her.

Something about this arrangement did not make sense.

Richard Vale was laughing comfortably with a group of investors, looking more relaxed than he had in months.

Like a man who had just closed the most profitable deal of his life.

Exactly.

This was not charity.

It was a transaction.

Which meant Cassius Volkov wanted something in return.

And if there was one thing Marionette had learned growing up in the Vale household, it was that people never spent that much money on something they did not intend to use.

The ride back to the Vale mansion was silent.

The moment the car stopped, Marionette stepped out without waiting for permission and stormed toward the staircase.

“Marionette!” her father barked behind her.

“Get back here!”

She ignored him.

“Marionette, I said come back here!”

Her hands trembled with rage as she reached her bedroom door and shoved it open.

Then she froze.

The room was empty.

Closet doors stood wide open, shelves had been stripped bare.

Even the framed photograph of her mother that always rested beside her bed was gone.

Two suitcases stood neatly in the center of the room.

Perfectly packed.

A white tag hung from one handle.

M. VALE.

Marionette stared at it.

Then a broken, maniacal laugh tore out of her throat.

“What a loving family,” she murmured.

Still laughing, she grabbed one of the suitcases and dragged it behind her as she stormed back downstairs.

The moment she reached the bottom, her eyes were blazing.

“Why?” she demanded. “Why would you do this?”

Richard Vale stood beside the dining table.

Without answering, he slid a thick folder toward her.

“Read it.”

Marionette snatched it up and flipped it open.

Strategic Partnership Agreement.

Between Vale Group and Volkov Group.

Her eyes skimmed rapidly across the pages.

Capital injection.

Debt clearance.

Equity protection.

Board stabilization.

Then she found it.

Clause Seventeen.

In exchange for the financial rescue of Vale Group, Marionette Vale will enter into a legal marriage with Cassius Volkov.

Her chest tightened painfully.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

Then she looked up at them.

“You sold me.”

“This marriage will save everything,”

Richard replied coldly.

“What about me?” Marionette demanded.

“Did any of you even consider what I wanted?”

"What you wanted?," Eleanor scoffed. “Do you have any idea how much money your marriage just brought into this family?”

Vivian smirked lazily from the sofa.

“At least you’re finally useful.”

Marionette stared at them in disbelief.

“You all are monsters."

Before anyone could respond, headlights swept across the windows.

A black car had just entered the compound.

At the same moment, her phone vibrated.

Unknown Number.

A message appeared.

'I apologize for your family’s lack of manners.'

Marionette’s fingers tightened around the phone.

Another message appeared.

'They were not supposed to empty your room yet.'

Her phone buzzed again.

'You are leaving with me tonight.'

'I promise you won't regret it.'

One final line appeared beneath it.

Cassius Volkov.

Marionette s

tared at the screen for several long seconds.

Then, slowly, a real smile appeared on her face for the first time that night.

Maybe this marriage would not bury her after all.

Maybe it would hand her the perfect battlefield.

And the Vale family had unknowingly given her the first weapon.