"You can't do that!" I glared at my father, my heart filled with anger. After everything I explained to him, he still chose to side with his precious biological daughter, Marianne. "Why? Why did you even adopt me if you were going to treat me like this?" I shouted, tears streaming down my face.
"Victoria, you're doing this for the family. Think of it as paying back for all the food, the credit cards, the house—everything we've given you," my father said, his voice cold and indifferent. I gasped in disbelief.
"Payback? Is that all I am to you? A debt you need to settle? Fine, I'm just an orphan you brought in to clear your conscience. But what about Clifton and Marianne? How long has this been going on? They're getting married tomorrow, and no one—no one told me!"
"Were you blind?" My mother's voice cut through, and I turned to face her. She was dressed in a sleek red gown, her hair styled perfectly, as if none of this chaos affected her. "How pathetic were you to think Clinton would stay with you?"
I wiped away my tears and scoffed. Everything made sense now. My family treated Clinton so well because he was really dating their daughter, not me.
"I don’t want to get married in someone else's place! The deal was with the Volvok family, and if you’re going to treat me like I’m just some orphan, then your daughter should be the one getting married!" I shouted, and then a hard slap landed across my face.
"How dare you!" Mother yelled, throwing her glass of red wine into my face. I gasped as the liquid splashed across my skin, burning more from the humiliation than the alcohol. "You think my precious daughter should marry into the Volkov family? Those monsters? Never!"
Father stepped forward, his expression cold and indifferent. "Victoria, you should know how arranged marriages work by now. This is your duty to the family. You don’t get to back out."
I clenched my fists, biting back more tears. The wedding was in two days. Two days to marry Vincenzo Volkov, a man I barely knew, someone with a dangerous reputation. I felt trapped, like I had no choice but to follow their plan.
"You're nothing but a burden," Mother continued, her voice sharp. "We took you in, gave you a home, raised you. And this is how you repay us? By trying to ruin everything? You should be grateful we're giving you a chance to marry into a powerful family."
I looked at her, my heart aching. "Grateful? For what? For being used? For being treated like a pawn?"
Father's voice cut through, colder than before. "Enough. You will marry Vincenzo Volkov for the good of this family, and that's final. You’re doing this, whether you like it or not."
I stared at both of them, feeling the weight of their words sink in. They didn’t care about me. To them, I wasn’t family. I was just a tool to secure an alliance. No matter how much I wanted to run, I knew I had no other option.
Two days. Two days until my life was no longer my own.
I stood there, gathering every bit of strength I had left. My voice shook as I spoke, but I kept my head high. “When I get married into the Volkov family, I want you to disown me. I’ll leave and never come back. And after that, I’ll find my real parents. Is that a deal?"
Mother scoffed, swirling the wine in her glass. "You think anyone cares? Your real parents didn't want you either, that's why you ended up here. You're worthless to them, and to us." She gave me a mocking smile. "Honestly, you're lucky anyone’s marrying you at all."
Father nodded in agreement, his cold eyes scanning me with disdain. "She's right. No one else would ever want you, Victoria. With your looks and your attitude, you should be thankful we're even bothering with this arrangement."
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. They were tearing me apart piece by piece, making me feel small, like I was nothing. Ugly. Unwanted. My chest tightened painfully as the words sank deeper.
Unable to hold back my tears any longer, I turned and ran upstairs. My legs carried me faster as their voices echoed in my ears, making me feel like I was suffocating. I burst into my room, slamming the door behind me and collapsing onto my bed. My body shook with sobs as I pressed my face into the pillow.
How could they say such things? All my life, I had done everything they asked, tried to fit in, tried to be the daughter they wanted. But nothing was ever good enough for them. Nothing.
After crying for what felt like hours, I slowly sat up, wiping my tears away. The sadness in my heart was turning into anger, and then, into resolve. Fine. If they didn’t want me, I wouldn’t want them either.
The night crept in before I even realized it, and I hadn’t moved an inch. I sat there, staring blankly at the wall, my mind spinning. I bit my lower lip so hard I could taste blood, but I didn’t care. The silence in the house was suffocating, and the emptiness around me only reminded me of how alone I really was.
No one came. Not to check on me. Not to say a word. It was like I didn’t exist to them anymore. I waited, hoping for something—anything—but the night just passed quietly. And just like that, it was morning.
I blinked slowly, my eyes heavy and sore. I felt like a wreck. My body was stiff, and I was sure I looked terrible—like some version of Shrek. My eyes had to be swollen and dark from all the crying. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore.
I didn't get to wash my hair, nor brush my teeth, nothing at all. Moving my legs, I slowly opened the door, walking out.
Everywhere was silent, I heard no one's voice.
"Young Miss Victoria, you're awake! Should I bring you something to eat?" Miss Beatrice, the head maid, rushed over, her eyes filled with pity as she spoke.
I glanced around, feeling disoriented. "Where is everyone?" I muttered, gripping the railing as I looked downstairs. The house felt eerily quiet, almost too still.
That’s when I noticed it. The usually lively sitting room was empty—completely deserted. It felt strange, unsettling even.
Miss Beatrice hesitated for a moment before speaking. "It seems you’ve forgotten. Today is Marianne and Sir Clinton’s wedding day."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My stomach churned, and for a moment, I thought I might actually throw up.
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My heart clenched, but no tears came this time. Instead, a strange numbness settled over me. I felt hollow, like I’d been drained of every emotion.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring blankly into the distance. Of course, it was their wedding day. How could I forget? After everything that had happened, of course they would go ahead with their perfect little ceremony. Without me.
Miss Beatrice stepped closer, her voice softer now. "You deserve more than this, Miss Victoria. Far more than what they’ve put you through."
I looked up at her, my chest tightening. Deserve more? Maybe once I believed that. Now... I didn’t know anymore.
“I believe the Volkov family would treat you well!” Miss Beatrice said, trying to lighten the mood. I managed a small, inward smile at her optimism.
“Treat me well? I don’t even know who this person is!” I replied, my voice tinged with disbelief. “What if he’s ugly, short, or even crippled? I haven’t seen or heard a single thing about him!”
Miss Beatrice chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You can’t judge someone by their appearance alone, Miss Victoria. Sometimes, it’s about what’s inside that truly matters.”
I rolled my eyes, not convinced. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s supposed to marry a stranger.”
She stepped closer, her expression earnest. “I understand this feels unfair, but think of it this way: you might find someone who surprises you. Someone who respects and values you for who you are. You deserve that, Victoria.”
I spat, “Whatever!” and stormed to my room, slamming the door behind me. I sank onto my bed, my heart racing. Minutes bled into hours. What was my next step? Should I ignore the message from last night and just end it all?
The thought of marriage terrified me. What if he cheated? What if he was a monster? The clock ticked like a metronome of my impending doom. Suddenly, my door burst open, and my mother stormed in, her face twisted in disgust.
To her, I was nothing but a burden.
“Here.” She tossed a delicate fabric toward me. “This is a Valentino wedding dress. You’ll wear it tomorrow. Marianne and Clinton have already left for their honeymoon!” Her irritation dripped from every word.
I nodded, my heart sinking further. “Sure they would,” I murmured, retreating into the bed softness as if it could shield me from the truth.
“Honestly, I hope you die!” she spat, her voice sharp as she stormed out, leaving.
And just like that, the day arrived—my wedding day—a day meant for celebration, yet here I was, about to marry a man I didn't know.
The doorbell chimed softly, followed by the sound of footsteps entering my room. Miss Beatrice, stepped in, flanked by two other maids carrying trays of makeup and other bridal essentials. Their cheery expressions did little to ease the tension that clung to me.
“Good morning, young Miss. How was your night?” Miss Beatrice asked, her voice gentle, but full of forced politeness.
I sighed, burying my face deeper into the pillow. “Night? I’m not sure that’s a thing anymore.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I hugged the pillow tighter, seeking some sense of comfort in its softness, anything to ground me. “It all feels like one long nightmare.”
I felt the maids exchange glances, their hesitation thick in the air. Miss Beatrice cleared her throat softly. “We’re here to help you get ready. It’s... it’s a special day.”
Special. Right. A day that was supposed to be one of the happiest in my life, and yet, here I was, practically paralyzed by dread. My body felt like lead, unwilling to move. I wanted nothing more than to disappear beneath the covers and never come out.
Still, despite everything, I found myself slowly sitting up. What was the point in resisting? This day was inevitable, whether I was ready or not.
Miss Beatrice gave a small nod, gesturing to the other maids to begin. They moved with delicate precision, preparing the bath. The sound of water running filled the silence, while one of them laid out the Valentino wedding dress—a breathtaking gown, one-of-a-kind, designed exclusively for me. A gown that, on any other day, might have made my heart race with excitement.
Today, it felt more like a chain.
“Let’s get started,” Miss Beatrice urged gently, her eyes soft as though she could sense my reluctance. They led me to the bath, the water warm and fragrant with soft rose petals floating on the surface. The maids worked quickly, washing and pampering my skin, brushing my hair with meticulous care.
I stood there, allowing them to move me as if I were a doll, unfeeling and distant. They worked with swift efficiency, scrubbing away what felt like the weight of the world clinging to my skin. My body was clean, but my mind remained clouded.
By the time I emerged from the bath, the room was filled with the scent of luxurious perfumes. The maids wrapped me in plush towels, drying every inch of me with a gentle touch. They applied makeup, turning my face into the image of a perfect bride—a flawless illusion hiding the storm raging inside me.
As they helped me into the Valentino gown, the fabric glided over my skin, hugging my figure in all the right places. The dress was stunning, crafted with intricate lace and delicate pearls, its soft ivory hue glowing against my skin. The veil was placed atop my head, and I stared at myself in the mirror.
I barely recognized the girl staring back. Her face was calm, her eyes vacant, as though all the life had been drained from them.
“There,” Miss Beatrice said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “You look perfect.”
Perfect. The word echoed in my mind like a cruel joke.
I stood, gazing at my reflection, trying to summon some feeling—any feeling. But all I felt was the growing pit in my stomach, a sense of dread that gnawed at me like a beast waiting to be unleashed.
And yet, I knew I had no choice.
With a heavy heart, I gave a slight nod. “Let’s get this over with.”
Miss Beatrice opened the door, and a cool breeze slipped in, carrying the weight of the day ahead.
I stepped forward, my heart pounding in my ears. One step. Then another.
But just as my foot crossed the threshold, I paused.
I wasn’t ready.
Not for this.
Not for him.
With a deep breath, I looked out at the world waiting for me… and knew everything was about to change.
