VOWS AND VENGEANCE

Chapter 002

Slipped into a Lie

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Leaning against the corridor wall, the door crashed behind me. My hands slid through my hair, and my chest tightened as though something were firmly pressing down. I had trouble breathing at all. I felt an overwhelming anger boiling within me. It won't stop.

I was supposed to be wed to Linnea. not her sister. NOT Freja.

Every time I stared at Freja, all I saw was the treachery of Jørgen Sorensen. My family's lies were a constant source of frustration. The games they engaged in set me in motion towards someone I never wanted. And what worsened it—she basically stood there as though she had no role in it. I was startled, and she appeared to be startled as well. She appeared to have been unaware of her involvement in the plan from the outset.

But I am familiar with her. I am aware of her type of person. I've known her for a considerable amount of time, preventing me from succumbing to her fearful demeanour. Not her; Linnea and I were the ones who became used.

Still, the way she stared at me during the vows. Her hands started to shake. The way her eyes missed me. Was that terror actual? Was she afraid too? Alternatively, simply presenting as usual?

Not yes. Try not to fall for it. She has always been excellent at posing.

She ought to have known I loved Linnea. Everyone understood. She managed to enter Jørgen's head, though, and twisted things around. She was always to him some sweet little angel. Never seen what was truly there.

I needed to leave. I needed to leave the house and the people who were treating this dream like a fantasy. I strolled down to the central hall. In the vacant hall, my footsteps rang loud. The whole place seemed to be a cage.

"You need Freja, Mikkel," Jørgen had said. She is powerful. She will look after the family. Linnea feels too soft. You shall thank me one day.

Please thank him. regarding this? For tearing Linnea from me and pushing Freja on me?

I clenched my teeth and shoved the terrace door open. The nighttime air struck me sharply, cold and hostile. Still, it was useless. Leaning on the railing, I gazed at the moonlight bathing the garden. Even that seemed false today.

My whole life I had been following Jørgen's instructions. I thought he backed Linnea and me. But the instant I brought it to life—he pulled the rug out and handed it to Freja instead.

Linnea... She was calm. She was easy to communicate with. We logically made sense.

But Freja? Savage. Thoughtless. Always hunting after meaningless objects. Living with someone like her seemed unworkable.

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Inside, the party was still in progress. Family: Friends. Partners in business. All celebrating a marriage based on lies. I loathed every second of it.

They didn't give a damn about us. Not me. Not Freja. < They saw only a signed agreement between two families.

I put my hands tightly together.

Freja looked unhappy when I saw her strolling down the aisle. She appeared terrified. I thought she would run for a moment.

Possibly, I also wanted her to.

She lacked, though. And right now we are caught.

Steps squeaked underfoot.

"Mikkel"?

Linnea spoke gently and sweetly—too sweet. But under I could hear the suffering.

I said nothing. I was not in the right frame of mind.

She moved in front of him. Her perfume encircled me. I used to find it rather lovely. It now simply brought back all I had lost.

"You don't have to pretend," she said quietly. Everybody knows this wedding is a joke.

"What are you looking for, Linnea?"

Her eyes were sharp, but her smile came quickly. You are aware of my preferences. This marriage makes no difference. Business is what this relationship is about. You and me: we are still us. Nobody has to look into this.

I burst out in a dry chuckle. "You really think I'm going to sneak about with you now?"

"You loved me," she shot back. "Still do."

I corrected, "Did." "Past tense"

Her smile wavered for a moment. The claws arrived next.

"You suppose Freja means something to you now?" She bit the words as she asked.

I replied, "She doesn't." That does not mean you can crawl back as though nothing happened, though.

"I once saved your life," she said, approaching closely. Have you not remembered that? When no one else was there, I was present.

I realised. Naturally, I thought of this. That instant, considering a jump while standing on that bridge. And her voice was dragging me backward.

It used to refer to everything.

She said, hardly stifling her tears, "You owe me."

I felt obliged to say something. I felt compelled to say something, anything at all.

Despite the situation, she turned and quietly walked away. Her shoulders were shaking.

She said, just before she vanished inside, "You're unappreciative."

Hand shaking, guilt rising in my throat, I stood there.

Then, as I usually do when I can't cope, I ran. Straight ahead to the closest pub. Who saw me was not relevant to me. I had to learn to forget. I had to silence the voice inside my head declaring I had destroyed everything.

The drinks had outstanding strength and speed. Aim after aim. One glass after another was consumed.

The room spun not too long ago. My ideas became hazy. The suffering faded.

After hours, I staggered out; the night passed in a blur. Now the cold hit more forcefully, but it made no difference. I simply had to get back before I passed out.

When I arrived, the mansion was empty. Everyone had disappeared.

Still, the room was not vacant.

Curled on the bed, Freja had a messy, wrinkled dress and a veil thrown on the floor. She seemed quite small. Her back now pointed to me.

I then spotted her bare leg. Her garment had slid up.

And someone snapped.

Heart pounding, I moved in closer. She looked around and found me.

"Mikkel... You drunkenly.

She came over to me.

I didn't stop.

She gently backed off. "Don't do this..."

I planted a kiss on her.

She spoke softly. overly gentle. She smelt as sweet as strawberries.

Her eyes wide, she turned away. Terrified.

"Please," she said in a whisper. Please don't. I'm…

Her voice quitched. "I've never...," said

My head was gone. Her voice became lost to me.

I brought her down.

She shrieked.

I continued not stopping.

She pleaded once more and repeatedly.

I listened, though.

At that moment, all I perceived was the girl who had taken my life, reversed my destiny, and trapped me in a dream.

I thus became the nightmare.

And I lay next to her silently when it ended.

Silence was more terrible than her screams.