The Scorned Bride: His Cruel Vows

Chapter 3: News

Thalia's Pov

"Go, Thalia! Just leave!" Marge screamed suddenly, her voice cracking with desperation. "Don't look back! Forget about me and just run!"

"Shut up," Adrian snapped. He didn't even look at Marge; his icy blue eyes were locked entirely on me. He took a slow step forward, the grass crunching under his shoes.

"I am only going to give you this one chance, Thalia," he said, "Do you really think you can outrun me? Even if you make it through the hole, my men are already stationed on the main road. You aren’t getting away. They'll drag you back before you can even blink."

My heart sank heavily into my chest. The little bit of hope I had left shattered into pieces.

He’d had men waiting the entire time. He knew I was going to run, and he’d let me get this far just to play a sick, sadistic game. To prove that I would never, ever escape his grasp.

"So here is your choice," Adrian continued, pointing a finger at me. "Either you crawl back out here on your own will, or my men will catch you and drag you back forcefully. And if it's the latter, I promise you, Marge will pay dearly for what she did tonight."

I clenched my fists so tightly that my fingernails dug deep into my palms. I looked at the small dog hole, then at Marge, who was shaking and sobbing. For the first time in my life, a wave of pure hatred washed over me.

"I didn't know how much of a schemer you were. I hate you," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips. "Go to hell, Adrian."

A flash of surprise went across his face but he quickly masked it.

I forced myself to stand up on my weak knees. Leaving the small backpack behind in the dirt, I walked out from the bushes and headed straight toward him. My body was shaking from fear and anger, but I kept my chin up.

The moment I was within arm’s reach, Adrian grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip and yanked me toward the house without a word.

"Adrian, stop! You're hurting me!" I cried out, but he ignored me.

He dragged me through the back doors and up the grand staircase. He walked so fast, his long legs taking two steps at a time, without even matching my stride. Because he was pulling me so quickly, I kept losing my balance. I bumped hard into the wooden banister, and my shoulder slammed against a large vase in the hallway. A sharp pain shot through my body, and my wrist felt like it was about to snap under his tight hold, but he didn't slow down for a second.

He threw open the doors to his private study and violently tossed me inside. I stumbled forward, falling hard onto the leather couch.

Before I could even sit up properly, Adrian walked over to the desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and slammed it down onto the coffee table right in front of me.

"Sign it," he commanded, throwing a pen onto the table next to the paper.

I stared down at the document through a haze of tears. The bold letters at the top stared back at me: Marriage Certificate.

My chest ached so badly I could barely breathe. I looked up at his cold, unforgiving face, searching for even a flicker of the boy I used to know, but there was nothing. I knew If I fought him and refused to sign it today, he would just find a way to force me to sign it tomorrow. He would make my life, and Marge's life, a living hell until he got what he wanted.

With a heavy sob, I pressed the pen to the paper and scribbled my name at the bottom.

The moment I dropped the pen, Adrian snatched the paper away. He looked down at my signature, a cruel, satisfied smirk touching his lips.

"Good," he said coldly, folding the document. "Get yourself prepared. Our wedding will be held in two days. On the exact same day Aria's wedding was supposed to be held."

Hearing her name felt like a slap in the face. I stared at him in horror, but he didn't care about my pain. He turned toward the door and called out to the guards standing in the hallway.

"Take her to her room and lock the door," Adrian ordered, not sparing me another glance. "Make sure she doesn't leave that room until the wedding day."

Two large men stepped into the study and grabbed my arms. They dragged me down the long hallway to my room. They opened the door and threw me inside without a single shred of gentleness, another person throwing my bag into the room as well. I fell onto the carpeted floor, scraping my knees.

Click. The sound of the lock turning cut through the quiet room. I sat there in the dark, the sound echoing in my ears. It felt like the final nail in my coffin. I slowly dragged my body over to the bed, sliding my back down against the cold wood until I was sitting on the floor with my knees pulled tightly to my chest.

My life was over. The man I had loved for ten years had just locked me in a cage and there was no one left to save me. I buried my face in my hands and finally let the tears pour out, sobbing quietly into the empty room.

However, my tears were cut short by the sudden ping that echoed in the room.

I flinched, my heart racing as I realized the sound was coming from my bag on the floor. I wiped my face quickly with the back of my hand and crawled over to the backpack.

With trembling fingers, I zipped it open and pulled out my phone.

The screen lit up my face, showing a new message notification.

It was from the private clinic I had visited a few days ago. I’d been running on empty, dizzy and nauseous for days, and had finally gone in for a full blood panel. I’d had to leave before the doctor could go over the results with me, and with everything that had happened since, the appointment had completely slipped my mind.

Slowly, I tapped the notification and opened the digital medical file. I scrolled past the basic information, my eyes searching for the summary at the bottom. When I hit the final diagnosis, the air left my lungs. The phone nearly slipped from my numb fingers.

Patient Status: Pregnant (6 weeks).

I stopped breathing. The quiet room around me seemed to spin. I stared at the word over and over again until my vision blurred.

Pregnant. I was carrying Adrian's child from that night.