Fake Marrying My Ex's Father-In-Law

CHAPTER 005

TORIA’S POV

The evening before the wedding came far too quickly, and the small living room of my family’s house felt more suffocating than usual. I was about to go to my bedroom when someone knocked loudly on the front door. My stepmother, Brenda, hurried to open it, a smile already on her face.

“Mrs. Rothwell. Please, come in.”

I stopped in my tracks. Marissa stepped into the house wearing an expensive coat, with a pair of designer sunglasses dangling from one hand. She slowly looked around our modest living room, her nose wrinkling slightly.

My jaw tightened. “What are you doing here?”

“Victoria, mind your manners!” Brenda snapped, her welcoming smile disappearing. “Is that how you speak to a guest?”

I looked between them and knew at once that this visit was no coincidence. They stood side by side as if they had planned this together, and the sight made my stomach twist.

My father sat on the worn sofa with a newspaper in his hands. At the sound of my voice, he lowered it and took off his reading glasses. “What’s going on?”

Brenda answered before I could. “Your good-for-nothing daughter has gone entirely too far this time, Edward,” she said. “Her last blind date, Eric, called me and told me everything that happened at the restaurant. Your daughter has no shame. Eric was a good and respectable man whom I carefully chose for her, yet she embarrassed him in public by slapping him. Then she turned around and threw herself at another woman’s husband.”

“Carefully chose?” I repeated, keeping my voice level even as anger burned in my chest. “You carefully chose a pathetic, controlling pervert like Eric for me to marry?”

My father sighed. “Enough, Toria. Why did you have to cause such an ugly scene in public? Your stepmother worked hard to arrange that blind date, and you embarrassed the young man. And now you’re involved with another woman’s husband. Was any of this necessary?”

His words stung worse than Brenda’s insults. He hadn’t even asked me what really happened. He had simply believed whatever Brenda told him.

“Did you even ask what happened, Dad?” My voice shook as tears formed in my eyes. “Or did you just believe everything she said?”

My father only stared at me.

“Well, I might as well tell you. Eric suggested we skip dinner and go straight to a hotel room,” I said. “He made it clear what he expected from me before we’d even started eating. So I slapped him because he crossed a line, and I’d do it again. As for Mr. Rothwell, he’s been divorced from Marissa for years. He isn’t her husband. She’s his ex-wife who refuses to move on.”

Marissa gave a sharp laugh and stepped closer. “You arrogant little nobody. Do you honestly think Damien sees you as his equal? He’s only using you to make me jealous. Once he’s done using you, he’ll throw you away like you never mattered. If you had any sense, you’d pack your cheap things, leave the city tonight, and end this foolishness.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, meeting her eyes even as my hands shook at my sides. “And I don’t take orders from a woman who can’t accept that her marriage is over. If Damien still wanted you, you’d be the one walking down the aisle tomorrow instead of standing in my house, begging his new wife to leave.”

I drew a breath before continuing. “If he throws me away someday, that’ll be my problem. But I don’t need anyone, especially you, rescuing me from a choice I made with my eyes open.”

Brenda lost her temper completely. “How dare you speak to our guest like that, you ungrateful girl!”

Her hand flew toward my face. I saw it coming and braced myself, refusing to close my eyes, but the slap never landed.

“Don’t you dare.”

The low, cold voice silenced the room. I turned and found Damien walking toward us. I’d been so focused on Brenda and Marissa that I hadn’t even heard him come in. He wore a dark charcoal suit, his jaw tight and his expression colder than I’d ever seen it.

Brenda’s hand slowly came down, and I could see the fear on her face. “Mr. Rothwell.”

Damien ignored her and shifted his gaze to Marissa. “Haven’t I warned you to stay away from my fiancée?”

“Damien, I…”

“I’m not finished.”

Marissa fell silent.

“Stay away from Toria, Marissa. If I see you around her again or you try to harass her, there will be consequences for you and your family. You know me well enough to know I don’t make empty threats. Now get out.”

Marissa held his gaze for a moment. Without another word, she turned and hurried out the front door.

Damien watched until she was gone before turning to Brenda. “And you. You call yourself an elder and a mother, yet you allowed that woman into this house to humiliate your daughter.” His voice remained calm, but his expression made Brenda lower her eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself. And don’t ever raise your hand against my wife again.”

My father stood frozen beside the sofa. The disappointment I’d seen in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by regret.

“Victoria.” His voice was soft. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he treated you like that. I should have asked what happened before I judged you.”

A lump rose in my throat. For years, I’d wanted my father to believe me without making me fight to prove myself. Now that he finally did, I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.

Before anyone could speak again, two well-dressed assistants entered, carrying garment bags and velvet boxes. Damien opened the largest bag, and my breath caught at the sight of the ivory wedding dress inside. It was made of soft silk, with delicate lace around the neckline. One of the assistants opened a velvet box, revealing a diamond ring and a matching set of jewelry.

“Everything for tomorrow has been prepared,” Damien said quietly.

I stared at the dress, then at him, still trying to take it all in. Brenda stood silently, staring at the dress and jewelry, embarrassment plain on her face.

He crossed to me and rested a hand on my lower back, leaning closer. "Get some rest tonight, Miss Hayes. Tomorrow is a big day.”

He gave my father a short nod, then left with his assistants.

~~~

The next morning, I woke early, already thinking about the dress waiting for me. I got up, crossed to the door, and reached for the brass handle. It didn’t move. I frowned and tried again, pulling harder, but the door still refused to open.

A cold wave of panic rushed through me as I realized someone had locked me in from the outside.

“Dad?” I pounded my fist against the wood. “Dad, are you out there? Open the door!”

There was no answer.

I shook the handle again and kicked the bottom of the door, hoping someone would hear me. “Brenda! Open this door right now!”

The house remained silent.

My heart pounded as I stared at the locked door.

The wedding was only hours away, and I was trapped inside my own bedroom.