Lilly's POV:
Today as always I was in my room because my dad doesn't let me go out even step outside the mansion not because he protects me or anything but because he thinks that I don't deserve to be happy and he is right because since the day that he told me it was all because of me that my mother dead I hate myself and I can't forgive myself for that
I even tried to kill myself but one night when I slept I dreamt of my mom for the first time and I didn't see her face but I knew that she was my mother because I felt it I wanted to hug her and tell her that "mom I am coming with you "
But she shook her head and said "No dear you are not coming with me and I don't want you to think about what you wanted to do again " and I started to cry because I knew what she meant by that and then I promised her that I would never think about that again...
When I woke up I cried so much that my eyes were swollen and then I jumped to my feet when suddenly the door to my bedroom opened and I gasped when I saw my father he was so angry That I could tell
As I glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall, my breath caught in my throat. It was half past six in the morning. A wave of panic washed over me. 'There's no way! I was supposed to make breakfast for my father!' I thought frantically. I had lost track of time, and now I was facing the consequences. My heart raced as I turned to look at him, and I could see the fury etched across his face. His eyes were narrowed, and his jaw was clenched, but beneath the anger, there was something else—he looked tired and unwell, his complexion pale, as if he hadn't slept properly. Maybe he had been drinking again? My stomach twisted at the thought, knowing that this wasn't going to end well.
But that doesn't matter because he is going to beat me to death, I heard him say "Useless piece of shit didn't I say that you must wake up at 6 every morning to cook huh" he shouted angrily and I was so scared I didn't know what to do and then I said "I.I. I'm s..s.sorry "but then he said angrily "shut the fuck up bitch you can't even talk properly, I think you don't behave recently so I have to teach you a good lesson " and after that, he started to unlock his belt on his pants and I screamed In my mind 'no please I can't it hurts so much' but who listens to me
After he had done hit me he old my hair so strongly that I screamed and he said: "That's your punishment for today be grateful that I haven't killed you yet but if you ever disobey me again I will kill you mark my words, now go and prepare breakfast before I repeat myself, get it?" He asked I nodded and quickly got out of my room and headed downstairs to cook
As I made my way down the staircase, I caught sight of my aunt Jessica, my dad's sister, doubled over with laughter at my predicament. Her laughter rang through the living room, echoing off the walls and mingling with the morning light streaming through the windows. At that moment, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance; her amusement was nothing new to me. I had faced countless challenges and embarrassing moments before, and this was just another chapter in my ongoing saga. I had grown accustomed to handling the worst of situations, so her reaction barely phased me. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I had seen far worse and could get through this, too.
.....
Every morning, I wake up early to prepare a hearty breakfast in the grand kitchen of the mansion. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as I whip up eggs, bacon, and toast, making sure everything is just right. After I've served the meal on the long, elegant dining table, I stay behind to wash the dishes, wipe down the counters, and tidy up the kitchen.
Once I've finished, I take a deep breath, knowing that my real work has just begun. With no maid to assist me, I tackle the vast rooms of the mansion all on my own. Dusting the ornate furniture, vacuuming the intricate rugs, and polishing the chandeliers become my tasks for the day. This is my routine, day in and day out, and I've grown accustomed to the rhythm of it all. The expansive nature of the mansion can feel daunting at times, but I take pride in my work, knowing that I keep this beautiful home in order.
....
In the evening I prepared dinner for my father and my aunt and when I was done setting the table I tried to take my plate to my room and eat there because my father told me that he didn't want to see my face when he was eating but stopped when he called me "Lily come to the table I have to tell you something " he said coldly but I nodded and went to the table and when my father and aunt sit I sit down too I saw my aunt that glaring at me and looked at me with disgust and then my father instructed us to eat
As we finished our meal, an unsettling silence hung in the air, and I found myself anxiously awaiting my father to break it. When he finally spoke, his words struck me like a thunderbolt: "Lily, I have arranged your marriage to a mafia man. Tomorrow, you will become his wife." With that, he stood abruptly and left the table, leaving me in a state of shock.
My heart raced, and a whirlwind of emotions flooded my mind. Should I feel happy about this arrangement? Or terrified? The reality was that I had no say in the matter; my future felt like it had been decided without any consideration for my feelings.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and before I could process what had just happened, a single tear slipped down my cheek. When I finally dared to raise my head, I caught sight of my aunt, who had been silently observing from the corner of the room. She wore a smirk that was anything but kind, a look that sent a chill down my spine. At that moment, I understood that she had orchestrated this entire situation, her eyes glinting with a devilish satisfaction. It was clear that I was caught in a web of decisions and manipulations that had little to do with my hopes and dreams.
As I was lost in my thoughts, she unexpectedly broke the silence. "You know what?" she began, her voice filled with emotion. "I'm happy for you. You deserve that bitch who thinks can get away with anything. But don't get your hopes up too high about finding happiness when you leave this house. Life outside isn't as easy as it seems, and the challenges may surprise you." Her words lingered in the air, and I sensed a mix of concern and sincerity behind them.
"Hahaha surprise your soon-to-be husband is our enemy and wants to kill you by any chance
Oh I forgot to tell you congratulations dear I hope you die soon Hahaha" and then she left
She was laughing hysterically, her laughter echoing in the empty hallway like a wild storm. I couldn't quite grasp the reason behind her animosity towards me; it puzzled me to no end. Even now, as I reflect on the sting of her words, a shiver runs down my spine. The way she spoke felt like a dark cloud hanging over my head, casting shadows of doubt and fear that lingered long after our encounter.
Initially, when my dad announced that I was to marry someone, I felt a flicker of hope that perhaps this meant I would finally escape the confines of our house. However, everything changed when my aunt started to speak about my soon-to-be husband. Her words were laced with warnings and fear, painting him as a dangerous rival to my father. It suddenly became all too clear to me that I was caught in a web of conflict I couldn't escape.
Despite everything I had endured, from the beatings of my father to the oppressive atmosphere in our home, I always managed to survive. I clung to that hope, but this time, an overwhelming sense of dread consumed me. My impending marriage to my father's enemy filled me with terror. I knew the kind of men my father associated with, and I could only imagine the brutality that would unfold if they felt threatened by me or my decision.
In a moment of desperation, I recalled the promise I made to my mother in my dream —to stay strong and not join her too soon. I did not want to abandon that vow, but the fear of death was closing in on me. I could almost hear her whispering to me in the shadows, urging me to hold on. "Oh God, please help me," I pleaded silently, hoping for a miracle to either save me from this fate or give me the strength to face it. The walls of my world were closing in, and I could feel the weight of my choices pressing down on my chest.