Chapter 3

Paris

"He'll kill me," I muttered under my breath, my legs trembling as I hurried toward the mansion. My heart pounded violently against my ribs, and each step felt heavier than the last. My breaths came in short, labored gasps, and panic clawed at my chest. The thought of being even a second late to face him was unbearable. The consequences would be devastating, and I knew it. After what felt like an eternity, I reached the towering gates of the mansion. Relief washed over me for a brief, fleeting moment. Wiping away the fear etched on my face, I forced myself to appear composed as I approached the main door. Just as I stepped inside, his sharp voice cut through the air like a dagger. "Well, it looks like my lovely wife has finally decided to grace us with her presence," Stevenson sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. My heart lurched in my chest, and I froze momentarily, fear rooting me to the spot. A quick glance at the clock-4:59. Relief surged within me, I wasn't late. But my reprieve was short-lived as his piercing gaze bore into me, scrutinizing every inch of my being. "Next week, I'm hosting a party at home," he announced, his voice laced with barely restrained fury. "It's a celebration of our marriage." He stepped closer, the heat of his anger radiating off him in waves. Leaning down, his face inches from mine, his voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If you even think of doing something to cast doubt on this marriage, if you cause even the smallest scene, you'll remember that day for the rest of your life. It'll haunt you like our wedding day." My fists clenched tightly at my sides, and I fixed my gaze on the floor, swallowing back the surge of emotions threatening to escape. How could I ever forget that day? I thought bitterly, tears threatening to spill as memories clawed their way to the surface. I dug my nails into my palms to keep from crying, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my pain. "All my business partners will be here," he continued, his voice as cold as his eyes. "Behave yourself. If you embarrass me or ruin this in any way, you'll regret your very existence." As if I don't already regret it, I thought, anger flickering within me. But I bit my tongue, knowing better than to speak. Before I could recover, Stevenson grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron, and dragged me upstairs. With a forceful shove, he pushed me to the floor. "Clean it," he ordered, his voice void of any emotion. Then, without sparing me another glance, he stormed off. I knelt there, scrubbing the floor with trembling hands, seething internally. I wish I were scrubbing his face instead, I thought, rubbing harder in frustration. The dark humor gave me a fleeting sense of satisfaction. But my defiance was short-lived. Stevenson reappeared moments later, his watch glinting under the light as he marched toward me with measured precision. I braced myself, knowing his games too well. He never left without first finding a way to make me cry. My jaw tightened in anticipation of the pain I knew was coming. He stopped beside me, his presence suffocating, and pressed his shoe firmly against my hand. "I'm going to the hospital," he said coolly, adjusting his watch as if the weight of his shoe wasn't crushing my fingers. "If you want a shred of luck, stay out of my sight when I return." The pressure from his shoe sent sharp pain shooting up my arm, but I bit my lip to stifle a cry. Tears blurred my vision, but anger coursed through my veins, burning hotter than the pain. When I finally looked up, his eyes locked onto mine, cold and unrelenting. His gaze sent shivers down my spine, a silent reminder of the power he held over me. Without another word, he removed his foot and turned, walking out of the room with calculated indifference. Left alone, I sat frozen, my hand throbbing, tears spilling freely down my cheeks. Fear of the unknown gripped me, twisting my stomach into knots. My mind spiraled back to the night that started it all-the night that bound me to this living nightmare.

F L A S H B A C K

The wedding was over, but instead of feeling joy, all I felt was fear. The weight of the marriage pressed down on me like a shackle. As I stood at the threshold of his home, still draped in my bridal attire, Stevenson's fury erupted. "I'm going to the hospital. Stay here until I return," he barked, his tone cold and unforgiving. Without another word, he stormed off, leaving me standing there, trembling in fear. The staff averted their eyes as if I didn't exist, and I stood frozen, paralyzed by uncertainty. No bride should feel this alone on her wedding night, but I did. Hours passed before I heard the screech of his car pulling up outside. My heart hammered against my ribs as his heavy footsteps approached. Each step felt like the tightening of a noose around my neck. Stevenson's eyes burned with fury as he seized my hand and dragged me to his room. "Everyone out!" he roared, his voice thunderous. The staff fled without hesitation, leaving me alone with the man I feared most. "My sister is lying in a hospital bed because of your brother," he snarled, his voice venomous. "She's sixteen. Sixteen! And because of your brother's actions, she's fighting for her life. If I had it my way, he'd be dead already." His hand shot out, gripping my neck. His breath was hot against my skin, each word a lash. "But no. Killing him would be mercy. He will suffer. And you," he growled, his grip tightening, "you will pay for his sins. He'll cry tears of blood before I'm through." Desperation surged through me as I clawed at his hand. "Stevenson, please," I begged, my voice shaking. "My brother is innocent. Please don't hurt him. He didn't do anything!" But my pleas fell on deaf ears. With a shove, he threw me onto the bed. I scrambled to get up, but he pinned me down, his strength overwhelming. "Don't worry," he sneered, his voice low and cold. "I won't touch you. I have no desire to consummate this sham of a marriage. But you will feel the weight of his sins." Tears streamed down my face as he reached for his belt. My heart stopped, terror freezing me in place. "Please, no!" I screamed, the sound desperate and raw. For a moment, his hand stilled. His eyes locked onto mine, the fury in them warring with something else-something darker. Slowly, he lowered the belt. Without a word, he stormed out of the room, leaving me trembling and broken. That night, I understood the full extent of my nightmare. My life, my freedom, my dignity-they all belonged to him now.

E N D O F F L A S H B A C K