MY STUNNING BRIDE

Arianna's Pov Just as I felt the warm rays of the sun shining directly into my eyes, I yawned drowsily and, deciding to enjoy the warmth, began to relive the dream I had. It felt so surreal, and I could sense the smile on my face without even looking in the mirror. My memory was hazy, yet I could recall the feeling of his hands on my body and his muscular frame pressed gently against mine. His soft kisses paired with firm strokes, pain and pleasure perfectly in sync, each feeding into the other. While the memories flooded my mind, I drifted back to sleep without realizing it. I woke to the usual screaming my stepmother loved to use whenever my father was around. This was her way of exposing what she claimed was my disregard for the family’s values and reputation. With my eighteenth birthday drawing near, she was clearly intensifying her schemes, deliberately driving a wedge between my father and me. ___ “How can a child be this lazy?” my stepmother drawled. “You’re a third-generation heiress, for goodness’ sake. Other young ladies from reputable families in Country F look up to you, including your sister. Why are you so intent on ruining your reputation and that of this family? Your father has worked tirelessly to expand the family business and uphold the legacy of the Young family, while you spend your time partying and shopping at high-end malls,” she lamented, feigned bitterness lacing her tone. “I have tried everything to discipline her and guide her onto the right path, but she insists on ruining both her reputation and that of this family,” she continued. “It’s time for school, yet you’re still lying in bed after spending the entire weekend partying with your friends,” she went on, fully aware of how to provoke my father. “Her drama had no end,” Arianna scoffed, awaiting the next act. With teary eyes, she spoke in a quiet, pitiful tone, her shoulders slumped low. “I realize I am not her biological mother, but I would truly appreciate it if she accorded me the respect I deserve for caring for her the same way I do for my own children.” Then she began sobbing. “Oh, my darling, I’m sorry if I have failed in my duties as your wife and as a mother to your daughter.” “Darling, I must be doing something wrong. Arianna is usually strong-willed and may behave strangely at times, but she has never been this rebellious,” she wailed. I remained in my room, listening to the drama unfolding downstairs, knowing that nothing I said could ever match my stepmother’s performance. She acted so flawlessly that my father believed every word, placing absolute trust in her. This had become a daily routine in my home. I began counting lazily from one to ten, waiting for the usual outburst that followed her theatrics. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… why is it taking so long? This is boring. “Arianna, come down right now!!!” my father barked. Oh wow, that took longer than expected, I thought, yawning lazily. “Why are you still in bed when your siblings have already left for school?” Refusing to refute her claims, I simply stuttered, “Dad, I… I…” “Speak up this instant!!!” my father barked authoritatively. Sigh. If only I hadn’t lost my mom at such a young age. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, my ever-buttery stepmother gasped loudly. I caught the cunning, devious glint in her eyes, and my shoulders tensed immediately. The witch was up to no good. Before I could gather my thoughts, my stepmother launched her attack. “Why do you have hickeys on your neck? Where were you last night? Who were you with? Oh my… I feel dizzy…” She spoke with such conviction that it left no room for denial. “I know you’re impulsive and free-spirited, but you cannot be having illicit affairs with a man. You are still a child, for goodness’ sake!!!” Before I could respond, I turned to my father. The look on his face was pure disgust and disappointment. The veins on his arms and forehead bulged, his breath uneven as he clutched his chest for a moment. “Arianna,” he growled. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded. My father was oblivious to my stepmother’s scheming nature and unknowingly helped her make my life miserable. Her façade was so flawless that most people couldn’t see through it. I had once been the same—until I accidentally discovered her true nature. How could I have forgotten to check myself in the mirror? I knew my stepmother was up to something, but never in my wildest imagination did I think her plans had already been set in motion. I began recalling the events of the previous night, realization crashing into me. The night before Elite Bar, 10 p.m. The music was so loud I could barely hear my friends screaming. I couldn’t tell whether it was the alcohol making me dizzy or the stench from the man beside me at the bar. Desperate for air, I stepped outside—and instantly regretted it. I had walked straight into four burly, pot-bellied men. The first one whistled, drawing the others’ attention. “My, my, my… what a beauty. Are you lost, baby?” The alcohol was hitting me faster than expected. My vision blurred as I slurred, “Do I know you?” The burly man chuckled. “Not yet—but you will soon. We’re going to have a very good time with you.” Before I could respond, the third man, who had been eyeing me lustfully, said, “Be nice to the lady. She looks so yummy—probably a model. We need to be gentle so we don’t bruise that succulent skin.” The fourth man, who had been silent until now, stopped them. “Enough fooling around. Do the job our client requested.” “Don’t come any closer, or you’ll regret it,” I warned quickly. They burst into laughter and began closing in. Just as I searched for an escape, a lazy voice yawned from behind me. “Do you have a death wish? She’s my wife.” My face flushed instantly. “Who do you think you are, calling me your wife? You must know I come from a wealthy family and want to leech off me—you’re nothing but a gigolo!” The man stepped into the light. “Do you have a death wish?” Before I could respond, the burly men had already surrounded us. “Break his legs!!!” one of them shouted. “He dares to take our model? Finish the job so we can collect our payment!” The next few seconds were filled with the sickening sounds of bones snapping and the gang members’ desperate screams and pleas. I giggled in my drunken state, oblivious to the danger I had just escaped. “My, my… thank you for helping me, gigolo. I’ll reward you handsomely,” I slurred to the stranger. Before I could fully piece together the rest of the night, my father grabbed my hand, demanding that I speak. My stepmother was behind it!!!!