MARRIED TO THE WRONG ALPHA

CHAPTER FOUR: THE WEIGHT OF SECRET AND PAINS

Helen's scream cut through the air like a blade, freezing the bustling energy of the party. The room stilled as everyone turned toward her, their attention drawn by the raw fury in her voice. "You beast! You devil!" she shrieked, her finger accusingly pointed at me. My heart pounded in my chest as the venomous words hit me like a physical blow, leaving me breathless and trembling. My eyes stung with unshed tears, and I could feel the weight of the stares upon me, heavy and suffocating. Helen’s voice, full of hatred, sliced through the air, each word embedding itself deeper within my fragile soul.

Before I could even gather my thoughts, my father and Mr. Dorian rushed to the scene, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion. My father reached out, grabbing Helen’s arm and trying to pull her away from me, but she resisted with all the strength in her fury. In a wild burst of rage, she shoved me to the ground. The world spun as my knees collided with the floor, sending a jolt of pain up my spine. I barely registered the shock and whispers from the guests, the humiliation coursing through me. I fought the desperate urge to cry, swallowing the sobs that threatened to escape.

Helen’s mother appeared, ushering her daughter away with the grace of someone who had seen enough. My stepmother’s eyes, as cold as ice, locked onto me. Her voice dripped with disdain as she commanded, "Go home after the party." Her words, though softly spoken, sent a chill through me, making me question myself. Had I done something to deserve this? Was it my fault?

Damian, ever the protector, rushed to my side, his strong hands helping me to my feet. His presence was the only comfort in that moment as we walked silently toward the exit. As we passed Gavin, his eyes met mine, and his words, though only in my head, sent an eerie shiver down my spine. We’ll see each other again. The words echoed like a warning, unsettling yet strangely magnetic, but I chose to ignore them, pushing the unease deep down.

Two weeks later, I found myself in my father’s study, dreading the inevitable confrontation. The air in the room was thick with tension as he motioned for me to sit. His voice, serious and measured, shattered the fragile calm of my world. "Adrianna," he began, his words deliberate, "You’re to marry Gavin."

The ground beneath me seemed to crumble, my world spinning as I absorbed his words. "You agreed to this?" My voice barely escaped in a whisper, the shock and betrayal clear in my trembling tone.

He explained, his words cold and rational, as if there were no other choice. "They’re like you, Adrianna. They understand you in ways no one else can. Gavin is a good man, and he’ll protect you." He added, as though to ease the pain, that Gavin’s father had known my mother—a connection I couldn’t grasp in that moment of heartbreak.

I wanted to scream, to confront him with the truth—the overheard conversation with Mr. Dorian, the ambition that fueled this union, the fear of exposure. But I swallowed my anger, nodding meekly. If this was what he wanted, I would endure it.

That evening, at dinner, my father announced the engagement. The room fell into stunned silence, the shock on my stepmother and stepsiblings' faces evident. Helen’s face paled, before shifting to a deep, seething resentment.

"Why not me?" Helen's voice rang out, sharp and demanding. "I’m older, I deserve Gavin. You know how I feel about him!"

My father’s tone remained calm but unyielding. "Gavin proposed to Adrianna, not you."

Helen’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as she stormed out, her fury echoing in the silence that followed. Damian, sensing my turmoil, broke the tension with a concerned voice. "Adrianna, are you okay with this?"

I forced a smile, my heart sinking with the weight of my lie. "Yes," I said quickly, my voice steady but hollow. Damian didn’t press further, but the lie hung in the air like a heavy shroud.

Dinner continued in an uncomfortable silence, my stepmother’s icy gaze never leaving me. She ate mechanically, her detached indifference a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions swirling inside me.

The month leading up to the wedding felt like a blur. Gavin’s presence was suffocating, his demands and expectations weighing heavily on my every move. He controlled everything, leaving little room for my voice or desires. He made no effort to connect with me emotionally, only to maintain the control he exerted over me. I couldn’t complain, couldn’t protest. His grip on me was tightening, and I felt myself slipping away.

A few days before the wedding, Gavin took me on a trip to another city. The change of scenery should have been a relief, but it felt temporary, like a brief escape before the inevitable. As he attended a business meeting, I found myself alone in a restaurant. The bustling atmosphere provided a momentary distraction, until I saw him. The man I had bumped into at the mall months ago—he seemed like a stranger, yet his presence stirred something within me.

Without thinking, I approached him. "Hi, I’m Adrianna," I said, my smile warm as I extended my hand.

He stood up, a smile of recognition spreading across his face. "I’m Kai," he replied, his grip firm and friendly.

"Do you remember me?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don’t think so."

I chuckled softly. "I’m the grumpy girl you bumped into at the mall, with my polite brother."

His face lit up with understanding. "Ah! The girl with her polite brother," he said, laughing with me.

We began talking, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of ease, of connection. His presence was comforting, like a thread of familiarity in a world that felt increasingly foreign. But the fleeting moment of peace was shattered when Gavin appeared. His eyes were dark, his expression twisted with fury.

Without a word, he grabbed my arm, pulling me away with a strength that sent a jolt of pain through me. "We’re leaving," he commanded, his voice sharp and unforgiving.

Embarrassment burned in my cheeks as I stumbled after him, my mind racing. Gavin didn’t care to understand, to hear my side. Once we were alone, he unleashed his fury, his voice cold and threatening. "You will never speak to another man, Adrianna. Ever."

The words hung in the air, suffocating, as the reality of my future with Gavin settled in. I felt trapped, suffocated by his control.

That night, as we boarded Gavin’s private jet to return home, the city lights below flickered like dying embers. The once bustling world felt distant, unreachable. Gavin's smug smile as I walked down the aisle was the only thing I could focus on during our wedding. The lavish ceremony felt like a spectacle—a show for the public to admire, while I was nothing more than a pawn in this arrangement.

Helen’s absence loomed, her silent disapproval weighing on me like an invisible presence. My stepmother, too, watched with cold detachment. Gavin’s family, ever the picture of polished perfection, made no effort to comfort me, and I felt more alone than ever.

That night, in our wedding suite, Gavin’s true nature revealed itself. He was drunk, and his touch was forceful and unrelenting. I begged him to understand, to give me space, but he silenced my pleas with cruel indifference. "You’re my property now," he declared, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Tears became my constant companion. Gavin’s control over me deepened, his anger and abuse taking hold of every aspect of my life. I couldn’t visit my family, couldn’t make decisions without his approval. When I lost my first pregnancy—his fault, his maltreatment—I felt a piece of myself die. The cycle of abuse continued. Every time he hurt me, he tried to buy my forgiveness with material gifts, as though that could erase the pain.

I tried to fight back, to summon the strength that had once been mine, but Gavin always had the upper hand. The threat of exposure, the disgrace it would bring to my father, kept me silent. "I married the wrong man," I whispered each night, the words echoing in the dark.

A month later, I found out I was pregnant again. For the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of hope. As I waited for Gavin at a restaurant, my heart swelled with a quiet anticipation. But fate, as always, had other plans.

A drunk man approached me, his advances persistent and unwelcome. I tried to pull away, but he grabbed my arm, and panic surged within me. Just then, Gavin appeared. His rage was blinding, and he punched the man, knocking him to the ground before dragging me away.

In the car, Gavin’s anger turned on me. "You think you can embarrass me like this?" he roared.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The years of resentment, the years of pain, exploded. "You’re the one who’s ruining my life!" I screamed.

But before I knew it, the familiar pain in my abdomen returned. The loss was inevitable.

Gavin, blinded by his rage, drove recklessly, oblivious to my pain. Desperation consumed me. As the car sped along the winding road, I made a split-second decision. I opened the door and jumped.

The cold night air whipped past me as I hit the ground, rolling to a stop. My legs carried me toward the cliff at the edge of the woods, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Adrianna!" Gavin’s voice called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

When I reached the cliff, I turned to see Gavin approaching, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You can’t escape me," he sneered.

But something inside me snapped. With all the strength I had left, I rushed at him, colliding with his chest. He staggered back, his eyes wide with shock as he lost his footing. Blood poured from a wound on his head as he cried out in pain.

The ground beneath me gave way, and I fell.

As I plummeted through the darkness, memories flooded my mind—my father’s warmth, my mother’s love, my brother’s protection. Helen’s fury, Gavin’s cruelty, and Kai’s brief kindness.

For the first time in years, I felt free.

"I married the wrong alpha," I whispered as the darkness swallowed me whole.