Chapter 8: A forced wedding
898 Words
Nadia’s POV
Today is my wedding day. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. A bride is supposed to be happy on her wedding day. But am I? No. Far from it.
I am been forced to marry a monster who kills at will, and there is nothing I can do about it. I have no one to fight for me. From now on, I can only depend on myself.
“You look extraordinarily stunning, Miss,” the maid who dressed me up whispers, her voice laced with awe.
Scoffing bitterly, I look down at the breathtaking white gown, heavily embedded with shimmering crystals. I couldn’t stop the tear that slip down my eye, tracing a path through my makeup.
I don’t want this. I have never dreamed of marrying someone I don’t love, and definitely not a man who is binding me to him for some dark, ulterior motives.
He already threatens to kill Jaxon and Max if I refuse to comply. He knows that they are the two people left that mean the world to me, and he’s using them as leverage.
“The car is ready, Miss,” the maid announces.
Inhaling deeply to steady my shaky breaths, i grip the heavy fabric and walk out of the mansion to the waiting car. The drive to wherever the wedding is to hold drags on for quite a long time.
The car pulls up in a secluded, grand church after the long drive. I step out of the car. The maid carefully drapes the lace veil over my face, takes my hand and begins leading me toward the heavy wooden doors.
My mind is flooding with desperate thoughts of escaping. Will i make it if I run right now? Will I survive?
I suddenly pause in my tracks, pulling my hand away from the maid’s grasp. But the exact moment I try to take a step backward, something cold, hard and pointed presses firmly into the small of my back. I freeze.
“Move,” a deep voice orders from behind me.
I take shaky steps forward, because I already know that this is Lorenzo’s doing — an explicit order to shoot me on the spot if I hesitate.
We finally reach the entrance of the church, I lift my head up and through the sheer fabric of the veil, I spot him. He looks dangerously handsome in a custom, jet-black Italian suit.
His gaze shifts to me, locking onto my figure and refusing to let go. My legs feel like jelly, almost giving out beneath me, but I manage to walk steady until I was standing in front of him.
The church is empty. No guests, no family. Just us, the priest and Lorenzo’s armed men standing guard in the shadows.
The guard behind me lowers the gun and steps away, allowing me to breathe a small sigh of relief. I look up at Lorenzo and instinctively take a step backward.
“Begin. Now,” he orders the priest. His voice cutting through the silence in the church.
I glance at the priest, noticing how violently his hands were trembling as he opens his holy book.
He says the words, and we exchange the forced vows. Then came the moment I hate the most; it is my turn to place the ring on Lorenzo’s finger. I hesitate, my hands are shaking so badly I couldn’t even hold the metal. I close my eyes, as hot tears pool against my lashes.
“What are you waiting for, piccola?” Lorenzo murmurs.
An evil grin plays on his lips as he suddenly grabs my hand, snatches the ring and forces it into his own finger. Then, he picks up the diamond band meant for me and brutally shoves it onto my ring finger.
I yank my arm away from his grip, stumbling a step away, staring down in horror at the blinding diamond ring now chaining me to him.
I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest squeaks aloud, his voice cracking. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Fear grips my entire being. My eyes widen in terror as I stare at Lorenzo. A deep phobia grips me; the thoughts of his lips on mine makes me feel sick. As he starts walking toward me, I take hesitant steps backward.
“No… please, I… I can’t,” the words catches in my throat.
Before I could protest or flee, he lungs forward. His hand clamps around my waist, pulling me against his rock-hard chest.
“Don’t move,” he commands in a low growl.
And before I could blink, he crashes his lips down onto mine in a hard, punishing and demanding kiss.
He devours me, ravaging my lips, forcing his tongue past my teeth and biting down on my lips on intervals. I stand paralyzed in his arms, my entire body shaking terribly.
When he finally breaks the kiss, he shoves me away so roughly I stumble, almost falling to the ground. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, wincing as my fingers were stained with a crimson liquid. My lips were bleeding from where he had bitten me.
Lorenzo didn’t look back as he adjusts his cuffs and begins walking down the aisle. Behind us, the priest whispers a final, terrifying confirmation: “…Husband and wife.”
- Writer
