1: Wretched Plight

1: Mya's POV

Strong fingers grabbed my chin, squishing my cheeks together and forcing me to look in the mirror. "Come on, sister, show me a big smile." The voice of my brother, Ryan, taunted.

I glared at him through the mirror, my bright blue eyes shooting icy daggers at him. But my defiance only made him laugh and squeeze my cheeks to the point it hurt and made my eyes to water.

"Oh come on," He cooed, his brows drawn together in a mockery of sadness. "Don't cry now you'll ruin your make-up. It's a happy day, you should be happy right now."

I wanted his hands off me. My entire back was still stinging in pain from two nights ago, after he had whipped me till I passed out. And now he has the gall to look at me and tell me to smile.

"Is she ready yet?" One of my three elder brothers, Carlos asked.

"What's the fucking hold up?" My third brother, Nathan asked.

Anger welled up inside me. I wish I had three knives. So I'd kill my brothers.

Carlos and Nathan came closer, and the four of us stood reflected in the mirror. Carlos clicked his tongue and smacked Ryan's hand off my face.

"You'll damage her face. That's the only good thing going for her." He said.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "My bad."

Hurt and pain and anger flashed through my body. My hands formed fists at my sides and I felt like screaming my head off.

But I couldn't make a sound. I can't do anything against my brothers. They own my life, and today is proof of that.

"What a hideous gown." Nathan said with disgust.

"You picked it out." I couldn't control myself and snapped.

"Oh yes, I did." He said, a devilish smile on his face.

"That's enough now." Carlos announced sharply. "Let's get moving! Can't be late to our darling sister's wedding, can we?"

Out of them all, I hate Carlos the most. He's he fucking devil.

Today is my wedding day. And I feel nothing but dread.

I'm off to marry a man I don't know or love, simply because I was "betrothed " To him at birth, and also because my brothers were so fucking selfish and evil.

Carlos took my arm and hooked it with his, and a shiver of repulsion ran down my spine. I hate him. gods I hate him so fucking much.

Things weren't always so bad.

Up until five years ago when I still had a father. Sure he was a shitty father, no doubt. But now, I would choose him over these three devils I call my brothers. Dad left a huge amount of money behind after he died. He was a workaholic to a fault and we had good food, money, and a fancy house because of that.

Until tragedy struck.

Father also left a huge debt behind—my betrothal. If the debt had been paid off with a good part of the money he left behind, all would have been fine and I wouldn’t have to marry a monster now. But no. My brothers decided to squander the entire money. They chose to waste it rather than save their little sister from an arranged marriage. There was enough money to pay that debt ten times over.

"What's the point? You'll end up in the kitchen anyway." Carlos had said when I pleaded with him to pay off the debt.

I was made a maid in my father's house. I sometimes starved while they had the most luxury foods money could buy. They lived like kings, with different whores hanging off their arms and I lived like a slave.

"You'll be gone soon, to your mansion with your husband."

Just two days ago, I tried to run. But Ryan found me and dragged me all the way back. He whipped my back raw because of that, the pain still fresh right now.

Now I'm stuck with this wedding. And I plan to escape after it no matter what.

The wedding was gonna be a quiet one. My soon to be husband apparently didn't like a crowd, and he requested for a short and scanty wedding. I was filled with sadness, because this was going to make it very hard for me to escape if there were so very few people.

But at the same time, the less people know about my wedding, the better. I'd be able to blend back into society when I escape, and my face won't be all over the Internet as the bride of the Mafia Lord.

That's right. My betrothed is the Mafia lord of this country. Of all people, it had to be the man whose reputation precedes him. It had to be the man who is rumored to make the sky rain blood on a good day. I've never spoken to him before, I have only seen a few glimpses of him.

Back when my father was alive, as a council member in a budding mafia gang, on a few occasions after I clocked fifteen, he would take me to some events along with my brothers. I sometimes saw the mafia lord on those occasions, just small glimpse because everyone was too scared of him to gawk at him for too long.

Back then I hadn’t even known i was betrothed to anyone, much less him.

My heart ached as I remembered my father. Ever since he died, things have been so difficult. My brothers never took me to gatherings for me to socialize like other girls of age here in the mafia world . They practically locked me in our mansion, made me their slave and turned my life to hell. I used to think that my father was a monster with how he raised us all with an iron fist and also betrothed me to someone when I was only a baby! But compared to my brothers, my father is a saint.

"You're shaking," Carlos's deep voice pulls me from my dark thoughts. I turned to look at him, and he had that look in his eyes.

Hunger.

My stomach churned and I looked away in disgust. "I'm fine." I said.

Among all my brothers, I hate Carlos the most.

My skin crawls each time he gets close to me. He knows that, and he gets off of it. He gets off to my pain, and my cries. He's a fucking sick bastard.

"You'll be fine," He said, his hand on my arm moving down to my fingers lightly. "It's just marriage. You keep your mouth shut, keep him fed and fucked, and he won't have to blow your brains out."

I gagged silently. Bastard. Stop touching me! I hate you!

His touch makes me want to wash my entire body in bleach till I've scrubbed the top layer of my skin off. Surely I've done that before, and that only caused more troubles for me. Painful memories of all those long years filled my head. The times when he would force me to touch him in inappropriate ways, while I cried but no one could do anything about it even if I dared to voice out. No one could help me. And he did it, over and over again.

Don't think about it, Mya. It's in the past now.

Should I be happy that I'm finally leaving this wretched house? But how can I be happy when I'm going into an even worse hell?

I want to die.

*******

We arrived at the church, and Carlos held my hand and walked me up to the front doors.

This was the same church that mother frequented when she was alive. If she knew that her daughter was being forced to marriage here, what will she do?

Probably nothing. Seeing as she died and left us all alone.

We walked into the cathedral, and all heads turned to us. All heads was a bit too much, as I counted nine people present, none of them familiar faces. My eyes were instantly drawn to the man who stood at the altar beside the priest, and my heart rate quickened.

It was a large cathedral. But his presence filled the air. Like a black hole that sucked everything to itself. The closer I got, the more I shivered. His presence was physical, like a cold hand clasped around my throat. I'd never felt anything like it before. Every cell in my body yelled for me to turn and run.

Carlos stopped me in front of the altar and handed me over. I walked up the steps of the altar and stood in front of him.

My goodness he was huge. He dwarfed me, taller by two solid heads. He looked at me, his dark green eyes blank but very beautiful. His hair was parted at the side and brushed back, black and shiny. His face was perfection, I've never seen a man as hot as him. His face angles were sharp, his cheekbones high and defined, his jaw a sharp square and defined. He has a sensuous mouth, and his lips looks really soft. But those eyes...I felt like I was been scrutinized down to my soul.

This... this is the man I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

"We are gathered here today to witness the joining of two lovers in holy matrimony," The voice of the priest lifted and filled the space.

A shudder ran down my spine.

This is it. No going back. Fear gripped my heart and paralyzed me. I could barely hear what the priest was saying. When my lips moved to form the words "I do," I had no idea.

In five minutes, it was over.

I was so drained in fear that I didn't hear when the priest pronounced us man and wife then gave us permission to kiss till my new husband stepped forward. I instinctively pulled back, scared out of my damned wits.

But Angelo, my new husband, didn’t seem fazed as he reached out and lifted the veil. His brows furrowed slightly as his eyes dragged over my face, before his yes moved down to my mouth.

Ah shit. I'm married already?

He leaned closer to me, and I pulled my head back. He clicked his tongue, and the next thing knew he grabbed my chin firmly and forced me to stay still. He leaned closer again, and I stopped breathing, right before he hesitated, lips hovering above mine.

His lips pressed to my cheek, close to the corner of my lips. To the naked eye, we kissed.

But only I could hear the words he whispered to me.