A sharp rap at my door startled me awake, but before that sound could fully pull me from the fog of sleep, let me tell you how my world unraveled.
The weight of betrayal clawed at my chest as I stared at my phone, its screen void of Daniel's name, his voice, or even a text. His line wasn't reachable, and with each failed attempt, my pulse hammered harder. I had wanted—no, needed—to talk to him. We were supposed to plan our escape, to leave this nightmare behind together. But he was silent.
My mind raced with dark thoughts. Had something happened to him? Or worse, was he part of this sinister plot to force me into marriage?
I paced the confines of my room, clutching the phone like it was a lifeline. "No, Daniel wouldn't do this to me," I whispered to myself. But doubt seeped in, its poisonous tendrils wrapping around my heart.
What if he had been paid off? What if his love for me was nothing more than a facade? The years we spent building a bond that felt unbreakable—was it all for nothing? The thought ripped through me, leaving raw wounds in its wake. My heart shattered, and tears streamed down my face.
When my mother's voice boomed from downstairs, demanding I prepare for the engagement ceremony, the fight drained from me. I couldn't reach Daniel, couldn't stop the tidal wave of this arrangement. My spirit crumbled. If Daniel couldn't fight for us, why should I?
Arriving at Dickson's mansion was like stepping into another world—cold, vast, and unfeeling. The house was opulent to the point of excess, its grandeur suffocating rather than welcoming. I stood awkwardly as Dickson introduced me to his staff and his son, whose piercing gaze cut through me with judgment.
"Darling, let's go upstairs," Dickson said with a smug grin that made my skin crawl.
"Enjoy your room. I'll stay in the guest room," I replied coldly, barely masking the contempt bubbling inside me.
His smile faltered for a moment before returning, this time more predatory than ever. "You're my wife now. You belong in my room, fulfilling your duties."
I stared at him, fury blazing in my chest. Without a word, I walked past him and settled into the sitting room, slamming the door shut behind me. My defiance hung in the air like a challenge I wasn't sure I could back up.
Later that evening, as I tried to lose myself in a movie, his son sauntered into the room, an air of arrogance draped around him like a tailored suit.
"Stepmom," he sneered, his voice laced with mockery. "What's it like, marrying someone old enough to be your father? Let me guess, it's all about the money."
His words stung like a whip, each syllable stripping away another layer of my dignity. I glared at him, my silence only fueling his cruelty.
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you love him. Women like you only care about the zeroes in the bank account. Gold digger."
The accusation hit me like a slap, but the anger bubbling inside me erupted. "You don't know anything about me! Keep your opinions to yourself," I shouted, my voice trembling with a mix of rage and pain.
He smirked, leaning back as if he had already won. "Watch yourself, or you'll find out just how far my father's money won't protect you."
Tears blurred my vision as I fled to the guest room, slamming the door behind me. My sobs echoed off the cold walls as the weight of my new reality crushed me. A loveless marriage to a man who saw me as property, an estranged mother who cared more about appearances than my happiness, and a world without Daniel—it was too much.
The knock on the door jolted me from my restless sleep. My heart raced as I sat up, wiping the dried tears from my cheeks.
"Who is it?" I called out, my voice shaky and hoarse.
A moment of silence, then a voice—one I hadn't heard in what felt like an eternity.
"It's me," came the muffled reply.
My breath caught in my throat. Daniel? It couldn't be.
But when I opened the door, the person standing there wasn't who I expected… and what they said next would change everything.