Beneath The Vows

Chapter 3

Valentina POV

“All the guests have arrived; why is he still not here yet?" my father shouted at his men while pacing around in the bridal room anxiously, while in my heart I was smiling ear to ear. How I wish he had a car accident and died on his way here.

“Call him again; the guests have been waiting for almost an hour, and I am tired of attending their quires." Anna is my so-called stepmother. I pouted in front of my father.

“What can I do, Anna? He is the king. He comes as he pleases and goes as he pleases.” He wiped off the sweat from his forehead and turned his head towards me. The look on his face told me that a series of bullshit was coming my way.

“Valentina, I am telling you that after marriage, you must sway him to our side; do anything you can; be a w***e, a slut, or an innocent good wife; do whatever he likes; just put a good impression of the Fusco family in front of him. Put him at your fingertips and play the cards on my order. For the first time in my life, I am counting on you. Don’t fail me," he finished his speech. And all I could do was nod at him as if his order were my command.

My father knew very well that no one could play with Lucius, but still, not only was he sending me on an impossible suicide mission,

As if on cue, someone from outside came and announced that Lucius, along with his family, had come. I blinked away the tears that had suddenly formed in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I strengthened myself for the cruel fate that was written in my destiny.

My father came forward to take my hand. I forced every cell in my body to give my hand to my father. From childhood, I had always dreamed of my dear brother, Alfonso Fusco, walking me down the aisle and me over to the man of my dreams. But who knew that fate would be so cruel to me and take my only source of hope away from me?

I was devastated when I heard about the death of my brother two months ago. All of them said that he died on a mission, but I know very well how skilled he was. I still don't believe that he died there when he promised to celebrate my birthday that night. I was sure that someone had killed him, and I was dreading finding the cause of my brother's death. This was also another reason for my marriage to Lucius Wrath, because my brother died on a mission related to him. All I knew was that he was giving the main commands. I highly doubt that he killed my brother, and if my doubt was right, then Lucius Wrath has to die, even if that means sacrificing my own life along the way.

In between my thoughts, I didn't even notice that I was outside the bridal room and in front of the large double doors at which the wedding ceremony was going to take place. I looked up at my father, who had a stern expression on his face. He didn’t even bother to look at me or give me any words of comfort. He just pushed the doors open and dragged me along with him to the altar.

The hall was filled with people from both sides of the family and some guests from the underworld. I could feel their eyes on me, judging me, pitying me, or envying me. I didn’t care about any of them. I only cared about one person who was standing at the altar, waiting for me with a cold and indifferent look on his face.

Lucius Wrath.

The man who was going to be my husband in a few minutes was the man who was the most powerful and feared leader of the underworld. The man who had a reputation for being ruthless, merciless, and heartless The man who might have killed my brother

I hated him with every fiber of my being. I hated him for making me his bride without my consent. I hated him for his existence. I hated him for being the reason for my brother’s death.

But I also feared him. I feared him for what he could do to me. I feared him for what he could make me do. I feared him for what he could make me feel.

As I reached the altar, I saw him clearly for the first time. He was tall and muscular, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a black suit that fitted him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and strong arms. He was handsome, no doubt, but his beauty was cold and cruel, like a sharp blade that could cut through anything.

He looked at me with a bored and disdainful expression, as if I were nothing but a nuisance to him. He didn’t even smile or greet me. He just took my hand from my father and pulled me closer to him. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I felt his touch. He was cold and hard, like a block of ice.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Don’t think that this marriage means anything to me. You are just a pawn in my game, a tool to use and discard. You have no place in my heart or my life. You are nothing but a burden to me. So don’t you dare to cross me or disobey me? Or you will regret it.”

He straightened up and looked at the priest, who was ready to start the ceremony. I felt a surge of anger and humiliation at his words. How dare he treat me like that? How dare he insult me like that?

I wanted to slap him, to scream at him, to run away from him. But I knew I couldn’t do any of that. I had to endure this for the sake of my family, for the sake of my mission, and for the sake of my revenge.

I clenched my teeth and glared at him, trying to show him that I was not afraid of him, that I was not his puppet, and that I was not his wife.

He smirked at me as if he could read my mind as if he knew that I was lying to myself. He tightened his grip on my hand, making me wince in pain. He kissed me lightly on the cheek, making me shiver in disgust. He looked at me with a wicked and mocking smile, as if he were enjoying my torment. He said, “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

He turned to face the priest, who began to recite the vows. I followed his lead, repeating the words without meaning them, without feeling them, without believing them.

I, Valentina Fusco, take you, Lucius Wrath, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.

I, Lucius Wrath, take you, Valentina Fusco, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.

With this ring, I wed him.

With this ring, I wed her.

You may now kiss the bride.

He lifted my veil and looked into my eyes. I saw nothing but coldness and cruelty in his. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine. I felt nothing but pain and disgust at his touch. He kissed me hard and rough, biting and bruising my lips. I tried to resist, to push him away, to break free. But he was stronger, he was faster, and he was smarter. He held me captive, he forced me to submit, and he made me his.

He broke the kiss and smiled triumphantly as if he had won a battle, as if he had conquered a territory, as if he had claimed a prize. He said, “Welcome to hell, my wife.”

The wedding festivities crawled by as I suffered the humiliation of being leashed to Lucius' side. As we made rounds accepting well wishes, I scarcely heard, his hand remained clamped on my waist in mock affection. His public charm only magnified the disgust churning inside at having my choices so callously stripped away.

My ornate wedding gown suddenly felt like an exquisite cage, glittering chains binding me to enslavement. As we paused by the dance floor, I hastily finished my champagne, longing to numb the oppressive weight of all their lecherous stares following my every move.

I allowed myself the momentary reprieve of gazing out the frosted glass doors leading to freedom just steps away yet eternally out of reach now. My reverie broke at the approach of an older gentleman I didn't recognize. His smile seemed congenial enough when extending greetings to the newlyweds, but I stiffened as his eyes roamed my figure in blatant appraisal.

"Quite a masterpiece you've acquired here, Lucius. I imagine the entertainment value makes up for the evident headaches from this spirited filly," he chuckled with a vulgar wink.

Humiliation flooded me while I wrestled the urge to splash the remains of my drink in his leering face. But before I formulated a response, Lucius intervened.

"Come, wife...they're playing our song now." Lucius's tone held an arctic undercurrent belying his charm. Without awaiting my reply, he steered us to the dance floor, his grip on my lower back branding me as his property to all who watched. I seethed under the guise of a demure smile until out of earshot.

"How dare you embarrass me so when I've given you no cause for offense!" I accused under my breath.

Lucius yanked me closer, his words low and biting. "You walk on the razor's edge, Valentina. Do not test me by forgetting so soon...in the ways that matter, you are very much still MY bride." His burning gaze darted to my lips, almost involuntarily, it seemed, before he caught himself and adjusted our dance frame back to proper form.

I swallowed hard, grasping the precarious position this marriage chained me in. As we whirled among the glittering assembly, I sensed the lingering ghosts of his touch, the scorch of unspoken desire tempered by disdain. And I realized this complicated game between desire and hatred was far from played out...regardless of what I willed.