Fine Bride

Ambrosia’s P.O.V

I was in pain.

And it wasn’t the dull ache that came after a bad fall or the kind of soreness you rubbed out of your muscles after a long day. This was sharp and screaming through every nerve in my body. My chest felt like it had been set on fire and dragged through broken glass. Every breath I sucked in was a fucking gamble.

When my eyes finally slit open, the first thing I saw was a beautiful ceiling with murals of angels. Where the hell was I? I tried to move my arm, but the cold bite of metal against my skin froze me in place. Chains…? My wrists were shackled to this bed and my legs weren’t fairing better.

My stomach churned in panic.

I tugged against the restraints, trying to sit up, but the motion sent a white-hot bolt of agony shooting through my chest. I gasped, choking on the pain as my lungs refused to cooperate. Oh god. Oh god. Tears blurred my vision as reality began sink in. I wasn't just hurt, I was trapped.

Just then, the door cracked open and a cheerful voice chirped into the room.

“Oh! You’re awake! Goodness, you had us worried,” A woman in a nurse uniform said, bustling out of the room. “Doctor, she’s up!”

I wasn’t in a fucking hospital. That much I could tell from the room. I wanted to scream and demand answers but my throat was dry and all that came out was a pathetic croak.

Moments later, the nurse returned with a man in a white coat. The doctor–mid-forties, sharp glasses–looked more annoyed than concerned.

“Water,” I managed to rasp.

The nurse immediately grabbed a glass from a nearby tray, holding it to my lips. The cool liquid hit my tongue, and I gulped greedily. I started coughing and she pulled the glass away with a frown.

“Careful,” the doctor admonished now. “Too much pressure may rip your stitches.”

I laid back against the pillow and tears began sliding down my cheeks as the last things I remembered began to creep in. Steven’s fists, the way he’d kicked me. The cold barrel of his gun.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shivering at the memory. My husband had shot me.

But someone had saved me.

“Who–” I started to ask, opening my eyes so I could ask the nurse who had brought me in, but the door opened again, and my words died on my lips.

Don Marcello.

He stepped inside and his presence filled the room like a storm cloud. Just like that day, his dark eyes held mine and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes twisted his lips. This time though, his pitch-black hair was removed from its ponytail and it fell over his face in unruly curls. The look would have been cute on another man. On Marcello, it was fear-inducing, coupled with the scar that ran down from the corner of his eyes to his lips. My voice trembled as I turned to the doctor.

“Why is he here?”

The man hesitated, clearly torn, but before he could answer, Marcelo cut him off with a calm. “Out.”

Both the doc and nurse scurried away like rats. My heart thundered as Marcello slowly approached my bed, his expression blank just like when he asked me to suck his cock. I gritted my teeth at the memory.

“You’ve been out for three days,” His voice was low and almost...gentle, and if I didn’t know what he was capable of, he’d have fooled me. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

That boiled my blood—the audacity–the nerve of him to touch me after everything he’d done.

With a scream, I snapped and sank my teeth into his fingers.

Marcello cursed, and yanked his hand back but the force just helped me bite clean through the skin and sever his entire finger. Blood gushed into my mouth and I spat out the severed piece on the floor.

“How dare you touch me!?!” I screamed at him. “You ruined my life! You turned my husband into a fucking monster!”

Marcello’s face only darkened and my heart plunged into my stomach. The fear of god slipped into me as he bent and picked up his severed finger, eyes blazing with a type of rage I hadn’t seen before. And amidst that fury was disbelief and humor.

“You shouldn’t have done that, bella,” A shark-like grin appeared on his face and before I could even think, the devil mafia pressed the bleeding stump of his fingers directly onto my bandaged wound.

Agony exploded through my body. I screamed, my back arching off the bed as the stitches holding the wound together began to rip.

“Stop!” I sobbed, screaming. “Please stop! It hurt! Please!”

But he didn’t. Not until the blood soaked through the bandages and my vision began to blur. I barely registered him placing the severed piece of his finger into a saline bag before the pain dragged me into a dark abyss.

When I came to, the pain was different, deeper like it had dug itself a home in my body, spreading out to every cell and refusing to leave. I opened my eyes and glanced down at my chest, seeing the new bandages. Someone had fixed me up again.

Just then, I felt a presence in the room, and when I jerked my head up, I saw Marcello. He was sitting at the foot of my bed like he owned it–owned me. My eyes immediately went to his finger, and I saw that it was bandaged, too, hand resting casually on his knee.

My throat tightened but I forced myself to speak. “What do you want from me?” I choked out, trying hard not to cry again. “Is Steven still alive?”

Marcello’s head snapped back and for a moment he looked like i’d slapped him. His lips parted slightly, and shock flickered in his dark eyes, but then it was gone. His expression darkened and that infuriating, predatory smirk crawled back on his face.

“He tried to kill you and you’re still asking if he's alive?” he asked me.

Tears spilled over before I could stop them. As the tears poured, I stared up at the ceiling, trying to gather myself. “I love my husband.”

Marcello let out a low laugh filled with bitterness and disbelief.

“You’re insane.” he muttered.

I turned my head to glare at him even as my tears betrayed me. “No, you did this,” i hissed. “You ruined my husband. Steven would never hurt me…he wasn’t a monster until you forced me to…” my voice cracked and I swallowed back a sob. “You made him this way.”

For once, he didn’t have a quick retort. He just stared at me like I was a confusing puzzle he couldn’t understand. And then to my utter confusion, he smiled and it not was not his usual cruel smirk.

“Your precious Steven,” he shook his head. “His life–or death–lies in your hands now.”

My heart clenched. “What are you talking about?”

But Marcello didn’t even answer me, instead he reached into his jacket and pulled out a set of papers, tossing them onto the tray beside me. My eyes bulged as I read the big texts in front. Marriage annulment between Ambrosia Barnes and Steven Barnes.

“Sign them,” he said. “and I’ll let him go.”

What the fuck?

The chains rattled as I started to jerk on the bed. “No! I won’t divorce my husband because you fucking said so!"

The don’s dark eyes simply narrowed and he pulled out a black tablet again, his bandaged finger tapping the screen. But the video that popped up next had my blood running cold.

It was steven.

His eyes was barely recognizable, swollen and bloody, his body slumped over a chair. Steven looked dead.

“What have you done to my husband?” I started to ask as tears burned behind my eyes.

“Shh, just watch.” He whispered and I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. Just then Marcello walked into the video frame, and put his hands around Steven’s neck, asking for his money. Steven cried like a baby that he’s sold all his Assets and he could never raise three hundred million in such a short time.

Then Marcello grinned in the grainy video and asked for a collateral for the loan. But before he could even say what he wanted as Collateral, my husband cried out. “You can have my wife! Ambrosia. Please don’t kill me.”

“Stop the video,” i choked out, unwilling to hear the rest of whatever shit my wimpy husband said. Tears streaked down my face and I just wanted to bury myself somewhere and die. After everything I’d done for steven, he gave me up as repayment for his loan.

“If you want, I could kill him for you. Either way you’re going to sign this divorce papers.” a voice cut into my thought.

I stared at my fingers, my chest heaving with ragged sobs. Even after everything, I knew Steven was just scared and that’s why he said what he had. He paid my mother’s medical bills for a long time and had been the best husband I could ever pray for until…

"Will you really let him go if I sign it?" I whispered, tears tracking down my face.

His jaw tightened. "A man's word is his bond and a real man keeps his word."

The intensity behind his voice ricocheted down my soul and I found myself believing him. Besides, what choice did I have other than to trust the psycho. “Okay, I’ll sign it,” I whispered.

I didn’t know what I expected from the man but he didn’t gloat. He just nodded and unlocked one of the restraints on my wrist, handing me a pen. My hands trembled as I sat up but with my last strength, I signed my name on the divorce paper.

When I was done, Marcello took the papers and then leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered. “Oh, I can’t wait to break you. You’ll make such a fine bride for me.”