TAMING THE BRIDE

Chapter 4

Gwendolyn wished with all her might to take out her anger and frustration on someone else, on the real culprit of this whole hateful situation: her older half-brother. And hearing the sound of utensils falling fiercely to the dining room floor became the newest tune in the great Boccoro mansion.

“I CAN'T BELIEVE, you filthy mongrel! You agreed to marry me off as a slave, without even asking my permission!” Gwendolyn hysterically threw the cutlery at her brother, specifically aiming at him with the knife that had fallen to the floor, almost hitting the butler.

“Well, he asked with good intentions.” Ethan declared, ignoring his sister's attacks and calmly eating his food.

“Good intentions are what the road to hell is paved with! It is not you who will marry, you worm!

Gwendolyn couldn't hold back her fury and stood up, about to make another attack, 'this time trying to hit' now using the cups, to the despair of the servants. She only didn't because Kendra's cane hit the floor violently and she froze.

“Your brother is an i***t, we all know that!” She began, unhappily that dinner had been tumultuous with the aggressiveness of the two grandchildren.

“You shouldn't be so frustrated, he's a good man!” Ethan tried to comfort her. This only made Gwendolyn angrier.

“How can you be so sure? Oh! He's your friend!” she said mockingly, “So he's NO GOOD! Just like you, you worthless pig!” She grunted.

“Watch how you talk to me!” Ethan shouted in an attempt to control the situation.

"I really must follow the ways of my mother, who was a free woman!”

"SHUT UP!!”

The shout, followed by a muffled yet cutting sound, took everyone in the dining room by surprise. However, the most surprised was Gwendolyn who was touching her face now red and painful from the slap she received from her grandmother. She hadn't even noticed when the old woman reached out to deliver the blow. And it hurt her soul more than her face. Ethan looked startled at both his sister, who was holding back an angry cry, and his grandmother, who was puffing out her chest and glaring angrily at her granddaughter.

Kendra was red with anger. A wave of uncontrolled anger, almost blind, but it was when she saw a disturbed Gwendolyn, she realized the deed. However, it was too late for regrets.

"Now, listen carefully, Gwendolyn Belle Roz Boccoro. Although I don't agree with your brother's stupidity, this is a good opportunity for you. All the suitors who once wanted you are already married. The rest of the decent group is obsessed with the libertine and immoral young ladies. Either you agree to marry Lord Salustti, or you can dig an early grave and choose between going to bed with one of the idiots: wart or pig!”

And it was with that reasoning that Gwendolyn closed her mouth and swallowed hard. She said nothing more. She bit her lips so hard they bled, hands clenched to the point where her fingers turned white, and leaned against her body. Her face was swollen, red, and sore. A maid handed her an ice compress, but she didn't touch it. The air in the room was too heavy. She wanted to run away. She wanted to disappear.

Even if Gwendolyn didn't want to hear it, she knew her grandmother was telling the truth. She had rejected several suitors before and had built up a reputation for being an arrogant snob. Most of high society looked at her like a rotten vegetable, judging her with dirty looks and gossiping behind her back. Her choices were limited. And she needed to choose. But both options seemed bleak. To choose between the arrogant jerk who had the physical appeal of a Greek God, the crybaby moron who had a belly the size of a pig, or the pig himself! Perhaps, it would be smarter to choose the Greek God.

Her grandmother took the compress and tried to use it on her granddaughter. She refused. Kendra wanted to apologize, she shouldn't have gotten so upset like that. It was a taboo subject in the family. She had horror and contempt for any and all matters relating to Gwendolyn's mother. And yet, she loved her granddaughter with all her heart. Gwendolyn knew that.

However, Gwendolyn felt disrespected and humiliated. She wasn't allowed to have control of her own life. She looked at her brother, his gaze smug. To maintain her title, status, and lifestyle, women like her had to marry, and her brother only accelerated the process. He had no qualms about marrying her off, just so he could continue his perversions without his sister raving about his indecencies. Marriage was inevitable, she knew. She was twenty, soon to be twenty-one…she was getting old. If she dared to wait any longer, she would truly be on the way to becoming an old maid. And obviously, her brother wouldn't want a sister on the path of the unashamedly free man he had already laid out for himself.

“Cool yourself, Gwen. There will be a picnic tomorrow with your suitors. You can get to know them better.” Although Ethan did his best to present the information stoically, she noticed the mischievous grin appearing on his features. Gwendolyn wished she could connect her fist to his arrogant face. It would make her feel better.

“Cool it, you a*s! The end awaits you, Ethan Cecil Boccoro! Wait!” Gwendolyn left the dining room huffing, lifting her skirt with a little dignity, her voice fading with the distance.

Kendra slumped in her chair awkwardly, she was tired. She was still thinking about her clumsy way of dealing with the taboo related to Gwendolyn. Ethan, on the other hand, only went back to eating as if nothing had happened, of course, after the servants nervously rearranged the dinner. As for Gwendolyn, she wanted to die.

The sound of the curtains being opened woke a devastated Gwendolyn from the worst slept night when she awkwardly rolled out of bed, part of her body falling and hitting her head on the floor.

“My God! Miss, are you okay?” Evie asked, visibly worried.

“Do I look okay?” Gwendolyn groaned as she lifted her head and rubbed the bruised area with her hand.

“I hope this isn't one of your twisted plans to avoid the picnic.” Kendra's voice penetrated the door as she saw her granddaughter drowning pathetically on the floor.

And of course, the two showed a certain amount of strangeness and discomfort. Kendra thought many times about visiting her granddaughter before bed, but knew it would be better to talk when Gwendolyn was calmer. And of course, Gwendolyn wouldn't calm down quickly.

“No ma'am, it isn't,” Gwendolyn muttered as she stood up, the mess of red locks covering her face. At that moment, she looked like a ghost.

Kendra sighed deeply. It was like walking on thorns when it came to anything to do with Gwendolyn's mother. And Gwendolyn never had the chance to know her mother. She was neglected by her, who preferred to hang out at balls and parties instead of taking care of her newborn daughter. Probably in an attempt to enjoy a new life, she wouldn't even dream of getting. But for Kendra, it was the height of a***e and lack of zeal, both for her daughter and the family name. Gwendolyn knew everything about her mother because of her father. He loved her deeply.

“Get dressed, we have a long day,” Kendra instructed, waving her cane as she tapped the floor impatiently before turning her back to give her granddaughter some privacy to get ready.

“We have a long day!” Gwendolyn mocked her grandmother's voice softly. “ It's more like 'long to my death'!

“I HEARD THAT!" shouted her grandmother from afar.

And the start of the morning was filled with another routine of chaos, where the sound of Kendra's voice could be heard throughout the mansion. However, the servants, in a rush with the preparations for the picnic, remained very indifferent to the commotion, as it was all normal.