Captivating The Impostor Bride

Off- Guard

ROSELLA'S POV:

The crib was hard beneath me, its thin mattress doing very little to soften the pressure against my back. I sat on its edge, my knees drawn up, and my fingers absently tracing the cracked lines of the concrete wall. This cold room had somehow become my world and time had lost its meaning here. The window let in weak streaks of sunlight, which was my only look to the outside world.

I thought maybe it had been three days, or four, since it all fell apart. But honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore.

Each day, or what I assumed was a day—was just the same. Twice a day the door would be roughly pushed open, and a faceless guard would drag me to the bathroom. His hands were rough, expressions blank, as if I were a chore they hated but couldn’t avoid. No words, no eye contact—just the cold, impersonal movements of someone hurrying to complete a job. I was given just enough time to do what I needed, then shoved back into the dark room.

At first, I had tried to make sense of it all. Why was I here? Who were these people holding me captive? And most hauntingly, what did they want from me? But the answers to my questions i knew i would never get, and it ate me up each passing day.

I wrapped my arms around my knees, pulling them tightly to my chest as I buried my face. The silence was oppressive, broken only by distant voices that I could never quite make out what the topic of discussion was. My mind, however, refused to rest. It dragged me back to the same memory, over and over again.

Ashton’s grandfather and the pool of blood he laid in lifeless.

I could still hear Ashton’s voice filled with panic and urgency. “Save him. You have to save him.”

But I couldn’t.. I wasn’t a doctor, and even if I was, it wouldn’t have mattered. The damage was too great, the outcome inevitable. And yet, the memory of the look in Ashton’s eyes haunted me.

My dreams offered no solacee either. They twisted that day into some silly horror movie—sometimes it was my blood on the ground, sometimes Ashton’s, but it was always his grandfather’s death that i saw more often than most. I always woke up from these nightmares gasping, my heart racing fast as guilt and fear pressed down on me suffocating the air out of my lungs.

Only once had Ashton visited me since the last time. And as much as i tried to forget, i coudn’t; i remembered every detail of that encounter. The sharp sound of the lock turning, the door creaking open, and then him stepping inside. The cold fury plastered on his face , his dark eyes boring into me like daggers. He hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to.

He had thrown a bundle of clothes onto the bed roughly, before he turned and walked out without so much as a glance back. The door slammed shut behind him, and all i could do was stare at the pile of fabric, questions racing through my mind. What was he planning? What did he want from me?

The silence in this room was slowly driving me out of my mind. Every creak of the floorboards outside made my pulse quicken, my mind running conclusion of impossible possibilites. Would he come back? And if he did, would it be to exact vengeance? To punish me for my failure?

I didn’t want to die. That much I was certain of. I just wanted freedom, maybe forgiveness and revenge.

I could hear the faint noise of activity downstairs, sending a ripple of unease through me. At first, it was a whisper of movement, the kind of sound you might mistake for the creaks of an old house. But now, it was louder, unmistakable, i was certain. Something was happening.

I sat upright on the bed, my body going stiff from the tension, every nerve on edge. I strained just to hear a little from the muffled voices that drifted through the cracks and walls.. What was going on?

The uncertainty of everything pressed down on me like my future was being decided in a courtroom, each second stretching into eternity. I couldn’t take it anymore. My fingers trembled as I knocked on the door. “Hello?” My voice came out shaky, uncertain. “Is anyone there? Please, just talk to me.”

Silence answered me, just what i expected. But still i stood there, my heart hammering, as I waited. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. The silence still dragged on, and just when I began to think no one would respond, the lock clicked. My breath hitched as the door was pushed open.

A guard stood in the doorway, his expression a bit annoyed and indifferent. He didn’t even look me in the eye. “Wait here,” he said curtly, then shut the door again.

I stared at the closed door, my mind racing. Wait for what? What was happening? Was this supposed to reassure me i was safe? It didn’t. If anything, it made the tension worse.

I started pacing, my bare feet brushing against the cold floor. My thoughts frantic as my nails dug into my palms, the pain grounding me, but not enough to stop the wild imagination that filled my head. And then the door opened again, abruptly.

Ashton stood there, and I froze. He looked...different. Dressed in a suit was pristine, his hair neatly combed, his face clean-shaven. He wasn’t the man who’d stood in front of me days ago, disheveled and haunted. But there was something else diffeerent about him that made my blood run cold; his eyes—were sharp, unrelenting, and cold.

Before I could say a word, he crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed my arm harshly and without speaking, he pulled me out of the room and into the hallway.

“Ashton,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t respond. But he still dragged me down the stairs, my bare feet slipping against the polished wood as I struggled to keep up with his pace. Before I could fully process what was going on, we were outside.

The cold night air bit at my skin as I saw the sleek black car parked at the curb. The passenger door open, Ashton didn’t give me time to think. Before he pushed me inside with a roughly, slamming the door shut behind me.

I sat there, feeling fear biting my insides and my heart pounding so loudly i could hear nothing but its loud thuds. Moments later, Ashton slid into the driver’s seat. His hands steady on the wheel as the car pulled away.

The silence between us was unbearable. My mind raced, running heart sinking conclusions I didn’t want to face but couldn’t push away. I broke the silence, my voice trembling. “Where are you taking me? What’s going to happen?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes fixed on the road, his expression blank.

My voice cracked as I urged him. “You’re taking me somewhere to kill me, aren’t you? You don’t want to do it back there—too messy, too complicated. You’re going to dump me in a hole somewhere, right? Just tell me. I deserve to know. I want to be ready for it.”

My eyes kept drifting to his hands, the way his fingers tapped out an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel. It was too subtle, almost absentminded, but the tightness in his jaw told me this was the calm just before the storm.

I shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, watching him from the corner of my eye. The questions kept arising endlessly in my mind, each one more desperate than the last. What was he thinking? What was his plan? I wished I could just get through the barrier of his thoughts and unravel the mystery of his intentions. Any word from him right will go a long way and ease my tension. But he never spoke.

When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the tension in me, low and disturbingly calm. “You’ve watched a lot of movies, haven’t you?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his strange question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead, unyielding and detached. “You seem convinced I’m going to put you in a hole. Have I ever said I was going to put you in a hole?”