The CEO's Twins

CHAPTER 5

The wedding.

Katherine's POV

Today, I had to appear happy, or at least pretend to be, since I was about to marry a complete stranger whose name I didn’t even know. Without a doubt, I was on the brink of making the worst mistake of my life, but perhaps there was still a way to fix it.

"Miss Katherine, the limousine has just arrived."

"Thank you, Rogelio. By the way, are my parents and sister still here?"

"No, Miss. They should already be at the wedding venue. As for your sister, she hasn’t returned since last night."

"I should have guessed. Another thing, Rogelio—do you know what the man I’m going to marry looks like? Or at least his name?"

"I’m sorry, Miss, but I can’t help with that. It’s a very private matter that your parents and Mr. Warren have kept confidential."

"I suppose they prefer to keep things this way. Anyway, let’s get going."

I stepped into the limousine, mentally preparing myself for the unknown destination that was likely to be a hell of rising temperatures.

Upon arrival, the first thing I noticed was the sheer number of people present, not to mention the multitude of photographers. It was overwhelming. I knew the Warrens were powerful and influential, but this felt more like a royal wedding. And I wasn’t exaggerating.

"Miss Sunnak, over here!" A woman in elegant attire called out to me. I followed her, and we stopped at the entrance. There was my father, if you could even call him that—a man who, through deceit and manipulation, was selling me off to a stranger.

"Please walk with a smile while holding your father’s hand. Once you reach Mr. Warren, let go and smile at the crowd."

But what was this? It felt as though I was being directed as if I were a child. Of course, I knew what to do—or at least, I thought I did.

"Katherine, smile. I don’t want any complaints from Mr. Warren. Remember what you promised."

"And I hope you keep your word, Father." I shot back, trying to keep my composure as we walked arm in arm.

With all the rage in the world burning inside me about what I was being forced to do, I walked slowly down the aisle. The long white train of my dress dragged behind me, and the silk gown was so tight it felt suffocating. My heart was as hard as stone. I wouldn’t cry; this was nothing but a farce, a lie, from which I would soon escape.

I was close—too close. Just a few steps away from a man with his back turned. Surely, he was just as compelled as I was to make this wedding a beautiful and wonderful lie that everyone was expected to believe.

"Mr. Warren, I present to you what is most precious to me. Take care of my dear daughter."

The mysterious man, who in a few moments would become my husband, turned around. His eyes locked with mine.

"Don’t worry." That was all he said, his voice laden with a seriousness that betrayed his true feelings. It was clear he was not happy—if anything, he seemed furious, as if it were my fault. He took my hand and squeezed it with a deliberate harshness. I responded in kind, squeezing his hand back, and he sighed, visibly trying to contain his anger.

"Miss Sunnak? Can we continue?" the priest interrupted.

"Sure, go ahead," I replied, forcing a smile. Even though he was handsome and dashing, it paled in comparison to the inner ogre he must be hiding.

The priest continued with the ceremony, but I barely registered his words until the ogre took my hand again and slipped a ring onto my finger. He repeated a few phrases and then let me go.

Idiot! Following the priest's instructions, I did the same until he declared us husband and wife. The ogre looked at me expectantly. I didn't understand why until the priest signaled that he could kiss me now.

No! Instinctively, I stepped back.

"What do you think you're doing?" he whispered softly, his voice laced with annoyance.

"What do you think you were going to do?" I snapped back. His face was so serious that I swore if the priest hadn’t been there, I might have done something drastic.

"You, whatever your name is..." I began, trying to make it clear that he better not touch me. But before I could finish, he made a bold move, grabbing me by the neck and pulling me close. His lips met mine for what felt like an eternity, though it was only a few seconds.

Applause erupted around us. He pulled away, took my hand again with a vice-like grip, and we turned to face the crowd.

"Smile. You look scared, girl," he said, his tone demanding.

"And what do you think you just did? You forced a kiss on me, and now you want me to smile?"

"Walk," he ordered, his smile oddly out of place.

We walked together, greeted all the guests and press with my big, fake smile, and finally got into the limousine. God, I should win an Oscar for this performance.

As soon as the door closed, I let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Direct to London Hill, Bernard."

"As you command, Mr. Warren."

I watched him loosen his tie and stare out the window, completely ignoring me. The entire ride, he remained silent, looking like a stone with dazed, angry eyes. As for me, I could still taste his lips on mine, and it was utterly revolting.

When we arrived, he got out first, spoke briefly to a woman, and then wandered off to who knows where. Oh no, I forgot to mention a few things to him. I’ll address them later.

"Miss Sunnak, I am Margot, the Warren family housekeeper, and I will be at your service."

I barely listened to her introduction as I took in my new room. It was large and airy, with a double bed and a balcony offering a stunning view.

"Miss Sunnak? Please pay attention. This is Mr. Mauro's private mansion, and as his wife, you have certain responsibilities to fulfill."

"Yes, yes, Margot. I’m sorry, it’s just that this mansion is amazing. You can really tell the Warrens are wealthy."

"Miss, please, I don’t have much time. In a few hours, Mr. Mauro will arrive, and you need to be ready."

"Ready? For what?"

"Well, for your first wedding night together. It’s a common expectation."

"H-how? Do you mean..."

She nods, and all my admiration for the house crumbles. I can’t believe she’s suggesting this. After all, we don’t even know each other.

"No, no way. Do you expect us to have s*x just because we got married?"

"That’s normal, Miss. Now let me help you out of your dress so you can put on something more comfortable."

"No! I mean, wouldn’t it be better if he undressed me himself?"

She smiles. “Alright, but at least let me brush your hair.”

So that’s what she does. Margot removes my uncomfortable hairstyle, letting my hair fall loose, and gently brushes it. As she works, I scan the room. There’s a bottle of champagne, two glasses, some snacks, and a table covered with a cloth that reaches the floor.

"Done, Miss Sunnak. Good luck. Let’s hope we soon have a future heir."

In his dreams.

As soon as Margot leaves, I search for something to defend myself with. I’m not giving my virginity to a man whose name I don’t even know. What was his name?

Almost two hours of strategizing how to defend myself and escape this prison later, I hear the sound of the door opening. My heart leaps. I grab the bottle of champagne and hide under the table.

It must be him. I can feel his footsteps approaching, and part of my dress remains exposed.

"So now you like to hide under the table? How pathetic," he sneers. "I just came to tell you that you're not fit to belong to the prestigious Warren family. If this marriage happened, it was only to protect the good name of my family in the eyes of society. Let me be clear."

What is he saying? He sounds a bit drunk. "That damn Sunnak was a cunning fox who knew how to manipulate my grandfather to safeguard his interests and his future, and you’re just like him."

If I’d known my father threatened me, I would have kept this to myself. He doesn’t know the suffering I’ve endured. How dare he!

"You’re nothing more than a pawn in this game, girl. Remember that. I only need one thing from you, and I’ll get it by force if necessary. Do you hear me? And since you like to play hide and seek so much, let’s see if you last until tomorrow."

I hear the door slam shut. Was that a threat?

I crawl out from under the table, disgusted. What a hateful, detestable man. He’s a miserable ogre!

I head to the closet and look for some comfortable clothes. I find a polo shirt and shorts, which seem much better than the white dress that’s giving me a headache just by looking at it.

Damn! This dress is so hard to remove. It takes forever, but finally, I’m in my underwear. Now where did I put that polo? I take a few steps, thinking it must have fallen near the bed, and start searching.

Suddenly, I feel hands pushing me from behind.

What the hell!

It’s him—the ogre. He looks even more drunk now, his red eyes glaring at me.

"You? When did you come in?" I stammer.

He doesn’t answer, just staring at me with the intensity of a bull ready to charge.

"No!" I cried out, trying to pull away, but he was stronger than me—like grappling with a beast on the verge of attacking.

Desperately, I tried to escape, but his hand pushed me back onto the bed. He removed his shirt right in front of me, revealing a toned chest, surely the result of rigorous exercise.

"W-what do you think you're doing? Don’t you dare!" I warned him, but he ignored my pleas. He gripped my wrists tightly as his lips traveled down my neck and then to my collarbone. "Please stop."

I was terrified, utterly petrified of this man’s body pressing down on me, his lips moving across my skin. It was strange how my body seemed to react more to the sensations than to my fear.

"Y-you’re a rapist, a f*****g rapist. I hate you!"

At my words, he halted, lifting his angry face to scrutinize my body. This was my chance. I seized it, grabbing a sheet and throwing it over him to obscure his view. With a burst of adrenaline, I pushed him away and sprinted toward the shower.

But he was quick. He caught my arm roughly, pulling me back.

"Where do you think you’re going?! You’re my wife and you must fulfill your obligations!"

"You’re drunk! You don’t even know what you’re saying."

"Is that so? You think so?!"

I could sense that his patience was wearing thin, and he might lose control at any moment. What could I do?

In a desperate move, I grabbed the shower head, turned it on with difficulty, and aimed it at him. Water poured out in torrents, drenching him. It was almost comical to see him flailing about, trying to defend himself while clearly inebriated.

"Turn that off! You’re a—"

"This is so you never touch me again in your life! Degenerate!"

"So you can see who you’re messing with."

"Mr. Warren, is everything okay?" someone suddenly knocked on the door. It was Margot—my possible salvation. I wanted to run, but he, using all his strength, pulled me against his wet body and covered my mouth.

"You better keep quiet. Don’t even think about shouting. My grandfather is also in the mansion, and he believes we’re having the most beautiful wedding night."

I struggled to break free with all my might, but his strength was overwhelming.

"Listen to me, girl. I’m not going to touch you. You win."

What did he just say?

The knocking at the door ceased, but he still held me close. It was incredibly uncomfortable, feeling his wet body and his manhood pressing against me.

"Keep quiet until they leave. Stop being so defensive," he said. He finally removed his hand from my mouth, allowing me to breathe, but my breaths were shallow and strained.

"Let me go! Let me go."

"Stop screaming, girl. Or do you really want me to make you a woman right now?"

I fell silent, despite the relentless water.

"That’s better."

Better? He had me pinned against him, our bodies entangled in the running water, his hands resting on me. Why was this happening? We stayed like that for several minutes, his body pressed against mine.

"Listen to this, girl. I’ll let it go for today, but there will come a time when you won’t be able to run away, and you’ll have to fulfill your role as a wife."

I had almost forgotten what his grandfather wanted from me—a future heir to continue his lineage. I would be nothing more than a vessel to give him a son. Then, he’d take that child away from me. If he thought he could use me, he was wrong. Of course he was wrong. But then, why did my body respond with excitement to the touch of his body against mine? Why?