Ryan's Point of View
Just the thought of the wedding felt like torture. Each time it crossed my mind, I could feel my blood boil, knowing I was about to be chained to a stranger. I'd tried to fight back countless times, but my father wouldn't back down. What was so special about her, anyway?
It didn't matter. I'd make her regret the day she stepped into my life. She'd bleed and beg for mercy by the time I was through.
I strode down the aisle, my jaw clenched as cameras zoomed in on me, capturing every inch of my straight face. A small smile tugged by the side of my lips when I noticed the sudden absence of my bride. Maybe she'd run off. I hoped she kept it that way.
"Where is your bride?" the priest asked, a confused expression etched on his face
Tatiana's Point of View
I sat in front of the silver-coated mirror, my vision blurred as the makeup artist dabbed my face with foundation. It was my wedding day. Guess who was happy to meet her groom?
I fought hard to restrained the tears from falling down . Hot stings were felt in my eyes, my eyes burning as they threatened to freely fall. Sweat trickled down my temple, and the makeup artist quickly dabbed it away with a towel. This was my life now. I had no choice but to own it.
The door creaked open, and my stepmother, Kate, walked in, dressed in a fur coat and her hair styled to perfection.
"Give us a second. I'd like a word with the bride," she ordered, her tone cold and serious. The ladies who were dressing me walked out of the room, slowly closing the door and giving us space.
Kate walked up to me, her fingers brushing my chin as she leaned in, whispering.
"If you dare embarrass me today, I'll make sure you pay for it. You'll die a slow painful death," she threatened, picking up a towel to wipe away my tears.
Just to make sure she emotionally black mails me, she leaned close, planting a kiss on my chin.
What other death was she talking about? I'd died a thousand times already.
She gave me a scornful look before walking out, a smile playing on her lips. The dread in my chest threatened to pull me down. I was about to walk down the aisle to marry a man I didn't know. What if he hated me?
Taking a deep breath, I stood up, smoothing my pristine bridal gown. The sunlight caught the diamond necklace I wore, reflecting off the mirror. My heart beat violently as I climbed into the car, trying to calm myself by breathing slowly. It only seemed to make the anxiety worse, my palm sweaty.
In less than thirty minutes, we arrived at the church. The paparazzi swarmed, cameras flashing and threatening to blind me. Inside, everyone rose as I walked in, applauding and tossing flowers onto the aisle.
A veil was supposed to cover a bride's beauty and innocence, or so I'd heard. Mine hid the shame and regret etched on my face.
I glanced at my groom from a distance. He stood tall, his eyes fixed on the pulpit. I couldn't wait to see his face, to know who I was marrying. He had broad shoulders and a domineering aura that filled the room.
As I approached him, my legs shook, my face growing pale. Standing beside him, I barely dared to lift my gaze. All I could do was stare at the floor beneath me as if it held my interest.
"Do you take Tatiana Roberto as your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked, his voice booming through the hall.
He paused, jaw clenched. Was he unhappy about this too?
"Yes," he replied, his voice cold and emotionless.
The priest turned to me. "Tatiana, do you take Ryan Walters as your lawfully wedded husband?"
Ryan. My heart nearly stopped. Ryan Walters was my high school bully, the one who never missed a chance to torment me. Was this some kind of a joke? I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat, all I could do was gasp. This wasn't happening.
I stole a quick glance at my stepmother, who glared at me with a silent warning. Cold fear crawled across my skin as I returned my gaze to his chiseled jawline.
"Y…Yes," I stammered, my lips trembling.
I was marrying my high school bully! The thought alone made my stomach churn with dread. This was some kind of nightmare, and I had no way out.
"You may now kiss the bride," the priest announced.
A cruel smile crept onto Ryan's face as he lowered his head, slowly lifting my veil. When he saw my face, his eyes widened briefly in surprise, shock flashing across his facial expression. I watched as his expression shifted, his gaze cold.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. The salty taste of my tears lingered on my lips, my breathing hitched, the air feeling so thick to inhale.
As he pulled away, he murmured, "Run, Tatiana," a twisted grin on his face.
Memories of high school flooded back, of the torment and fear he'd inflicted on me. He and my step brothers had Successfully traumatized me while in high school. They made life a living hell for me.
Why was life so cruel? What had I done to deserve this?
The wedding came to an end and the guests filed out, congratulating us with empty smiles and well wishes. When everyone had left, Ryan strode out to his car without sparing me a second glance.
Dread settled deep in my stomach as I climbed into the car and headed toward our new home. The mansion loomed before me, every inch screaming luxury, but I felt out of place, trapped in a nightmare.
I was shown to the bedroom we were to share. Ryan barely glanced at me before walking out without a word. I shut my eyes, trying to steel myself for whatever was coming next.
A few minutes later, he reappeared, standing in the doorway, his gaze locked on me, fists clenched.
"So, Tatiana Roberto," he mumbled, walking toward me. My pulse raced as I instinctively stepped back, pressing myself against the cold wall.
"This is your best comeback? Marrying me?" He sneered, his voice dripping with anger and disappointment.
"You're mistaken, Ryan," I stammered, my voice trembling. But before I could say more, he grabbed my jaw, his fingers pressing into my skin painfully. He groaned in pain and he stood unfazed.
"You walked into my life without permission, and now," he paused, his lips curving into a cruel smile, "I'll make you wish you never did. I'm going to ruin you, Tatiana, until you beg for death, but I'll make sure it stays out of reach."
He released me, walking out of the room.
I crumpled to the floor, tears spilling freely now as I whispered to myself,
"Welcome to hell, Tatiana."