2: From Frypan to Fire

MYA

The soft click of the bathroom door lock sounded louder in my ears than it should have. I leaned my back against the cold wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. My heart raced in my chest, so loud I could hear it pounding in the silence.

Married. I was fucking married.

My chest tightened as my mind spiralled. How had I let it happen? When did I even say “I do”? The words had slipped out of my lips, but I couldn’t remember speaking them. It was all a blur—a horrible, suffocating blur of whispers, stares, and his piercing green eyes.

I rubbed my sweaty palms against my dress. The silk fabric felt smooth under my fingers, but the sensation did little to calm my nerves. My gaze darted around the bathroom, taking in everything. I stared at myself in the mirror, the veil was gone, but my makeup was still intact, though I could feel the cracks forming beneath it.

And then there was the kiss.

My stomach twisted. His lips hadn’t even touched mine, not really. But the ghost of that moment lingered, burning like a brand on my skin. He’d kissed my cheek, murmuring words only I could hear.

“How old are you?”

The question had been so unexpected, so bizarre. His voice, deep and smooth, had sent a shiver down my spine. And I’d been too terrified to answer him, my throat locked up. I hadn’t even managed a nod.

Why had he asked that? Did he think I was too young? Too old?

A million thoughts raced through my head. I clenched my fists to steady my shaking hands, but it didn’t help.

I wasn’t staying. There was no way I could go home with him tonight.

I squeezed my eyes shut, drawing in a shaky breath. I have to escape.

That was the plan—had been the plan since this whole nightmare started. Everyone knew who he was. My brothers, as cruel as they were, spoke his name with fear laced in their voices. He wasn’t just a man; he was a monster.

The stories about him weren’t whispered in back alleys; they were shouted in broad daylight. A killer. A psychopath. The Mafia Lord.

And now… my husband.

I choked back a laugh that sounded more like a sob. How could this be my life? Forced into marriage to pay off a debt that wasn’t even mine? Betrayed by my own flesh and blood? Trapped in a cage I couldn’t see but felt all the same?

I have to get out tonight. But how? My mind raced, formulating and discarding plans. There were so few people here, no crowd to slip into, no cover to hide under. But that also meant fewer eyes watching me. Fewer people to stop me.

I couldn’t go back home, not after my marriage. My brothers wouldn’t let me in. Ryan’s whip still haunted my back, that was what awaited me if I dared return. But going with Angelo? I couldn’t even imagine what he’d do. My brothers were afraid of him for a reason.

A sudden knock on the bathroom door startled me, and my breath hitched.

“Mya,” my new husband’s voice came through, deep and steady.

No. No. No.

I stared at the door as if it might open on its own. My body froze, and my mind screamed at me to do something. Say something. Anything.

“Mya,” he said again, his tone calm but firm. “Are you alright in there?”

Was I alright? What kind of question was that? I clenched my fists, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Maybe if I stayed quiet, he’d leave.

My legs felt like jelly as I forced myself to stand. The last thing I wanted was to anger him. Rumours about his temper swirled in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last.

With trembling hands, I unlocked the door and opened it just a crack. His green eyes immediately found mine, narrowing slightly. He was even taller up close.

“You’ve been in here a while,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head quickly, my throat too dry to form words.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “Are you always this quiet?”

“No,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

His brows lifted, and for a moment, I thought I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re pale,” he said, his gaze sweeping over me. “Have you eaten today?”

The question caught me off guard. Eaten? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a proper meal. But why did he care?

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, my voice shaky.

“Do you not want to marry me?” His unexpected words were calm, but they struck like a thunderclap.

I blinked up at him, my breath catching. I wanted to scream, No, I don’t! I wanted to tell him this wasn’t my choice, that I’d been shoved into this nightmare against my will. But my voice betrayed me.

Instead, I swallowed hard and lied. “I… I do.”

An amused laugh rumbled from him, low and disbelieving. “You’ll have to do a better job at lying than that if you want to be convincing.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I looked away, my fists clenching at my sides. Damn him. How dare he mock me when he was the reason I was in this mess?

He took a step closer, his presence swallowing the air between us. “What’s your name?”

My head snapped up, my eyes wide with shock. “You don’t know my name?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe. “No.”

I stared at him, my mind reeling. He’d agreed to marry me, yet he didn’t even know my name? How was that possible?

“It’s Mya,” I muttered, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Mya.” He said it slowly, like he was testing the weight of the name on his tongue. “You weren’t what I expected.”

My brows furrowed, and for a moment, I almost asked him what he meant. But his face gave nothing away, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

He didn’t elaborate, instead tilting his head slightly. “Are you ready to leave soon?”

Panic clawed at my chest. Leave? With him? “I… I just need a few more minutes.”

His gaze lingered on me for a beat too long, and I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t question me further. Finally, he nodded and stepped back. “Alright, take all the time you need.”

Without another word, he turned and walked down the hall, his footsteps echoing like a countdown to my doom.

As soon as he was out of sight, I ducked back into the restroom and locked the door behind me.

Fuck.

I glanced at the mirror, my reflection pale and trembling. “You can do this,” I whispered to myself. “You have to.”

The plan came together in pieces, each step clearer as the minutes ticked by. There were maids everywhere, bustling about with trays and cleaning supplies. If I could blend in, no one would notice me leaving.

I adjusted the sash on my dress and slipped out of the restroom, keeping my head down as I moved through the hallways. My heart raced with every step, but no one stopped me. My gaze darted from door to door, searching for a room that might have what I needed.

Finally, I found it. A maid’s closet.

The outfit wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would have to do. I tucked my hair under the small cap, adjusted the hem of the dress, and grabbed a dusting cloth for added effect. My wedding gown lay crumpled in a corner, abandoned like the life I was leaving behind.

Blending in was easier than I’d expected. The other maids were too busy to notice me, their hurried movements providing the perfect cover. I kept my head down and moved with purpose, my hands trembling as I gripped the cloth.

The exit was just ahead. I could see the door, the dark night waiting beyond it. My heart pounded as I quickened my pace, each step bringing me closer to freedom.

When I successfully escaped, I almost cried from joy, but I was too nervous to dare stop for a second. I kept running and running, past dark, unfamiliar streets as the sky darkened… till I was suddenly grabbed and pulled off the road, my screams muffled and my limbs instantly getting tied up.

A voice, low and unfamiliar. “She’ll do. She’s sexy and pretty.”

Before I could react, an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. I struggled, thrashing against the hold, but the grip was unyielding.

“Albeit too skinny, she looks very bendable. She She’s a perfect catch,” another voice said, chuckling darkly.

My scream was muffled by a cloth pressed to my face. A sickly-sweet scent filled my nose, burning my lungs and making my vision blur. My body grew heavy, my limbs refusing to obey as the world tilted around me.

“No,” I tried to say, but the word came out as a weak whimper.

The last thing I heard before the darkness claimed me was the sound of a car door slamming shut and someone muttering, “What a night.”