Chapter 3: Trapped.

Irene’s POV.

‘There was no way I heard that right.’

"Wife?" I stammered.

“I... I don't understand."

His eyes narrowed, "Did I stutter, niña?"

The floor tilted beneath me.

‘This was utter madness.’

‘Did he spare my life, only to put me through this?’

‘Coming here to work for a villain like him was humiliating enough, not to talk of being his wife, sharing his bed… oh, that would be the end of me.’

I imagined his hands, slithering down my body, his cold fingers like claws on my flesh.

It made my skin crawl.

He was insane to think that I was ever getting married to a monster like himself.

"No! I can't do this," I forced out, adamantly. I looked away, unable to hold his gaze, with the same boldness I had in my voice.

“You can't do what?” he questioned, his voice rising dangerously.

I tried to evade the question.

If I was subtle enough, I could somehow deflect his anger and find a way out of this charade.

“You could have any woman you desire, why me?”

“This can't be the only way for me to repay my father's debt, it is beyond what I can offer,” I rambled.

“I can do any other thing, but not this.”

He gave a humorless laugh that sounded more like a warning sign, telling me to tread carefully.

"I can see you're arrogant,” he sneered, his handsome features twisting with offense.

“You think you can decide how you'll serve me?"

The dangerous tone in his voice made me recoil instantly. I knew better than to contradict a man like him.

"It's not... it's not what I meant..." I stammered, struggling to find the right words.

“It's what then?” he thundered impatiently, slamming his fists on the mahogany desk.

I flinched, my heart racing in my chest.

Tears welled in my eyes, I was terrified.

I tried my best not to defy him, but I had boundaries, and marrying him was a line I wouldn't cross, no matter the cost.

Not after everything he’d done to my family.

"I just don't want to be your wife!"

“You are everything I detest in a man, you make me sick,” my voice cracked as I cried out.

I couldn't hold back any longer.

He rose from his chair, his tall, muscular frame looming above me, as he stalked around the desk, closing the distance between us.

“Sick, you say?” He questioned sharply.

“Those are dangerous words, Nina. Very dangerous for you.”

“You’re alive because I wished it.” His nose flared with anger as he spat the words with contempt.

I swallowed a hard lump in my throat, stumbling a few steps back as he came close.

“Don’t mistake my mercy for weakness. You will be my wife, that’s final,” he made it clear, once and for all.

“And don't you dare defy me again?”

He lowered himself, his face invading my personal space as he breathed the question down my neck, "Do you understand?"

I cringed, shrinking at his suffocating presence.

I could feel the heat radiating from his body, a strong musky scent with a whiff of sandalwood filling my senses, making it hard to breathe.

I was naive to think I was in a place to reject him.

He had the ultimate say over my life now and I was nothing but a puppet, repurposed to do his bidding.

This was the sinister truth.

But I'd rather die than let him have his way.

So, I chose to be reckless, fighting fire with more fire.

This was the only way I could take back control now that I was trapped.

I stood my ground, tilting my face upward to meet his fierce glare.

"Yes," I whispered softly. "I do understand."

“But I will be your wife on one condition.”

He watched me intently, a silent question in his eyes.

“You will not touch me or share my bed,” I spat.

“This is the only way I can endure this marriage.” The words rolled out carelessly.

His green eyes darkened instantly, the sting of insult crossing his features.

His muscled hands shot out, grabbing me by the neck, “you've got some nerve on you, to think you can talk to me like this.” he hissed, his grip tightening.

“You gave yourself to me, body and soul, for a price.”

“So why won’t you submit to me, Niña,” he glared.

His fingers dug Into my flesh, suffocating me in a death grip.

I winced at the pain, but I didn't struggle or fight to escape, even though I felt like I was dying.

I knew what he wanted; to break my spirit.

But I would not give him that satisfaction. Not even a crack.

“Just kill me,” I choked out, holding his gaze stubbornly, despite the tears that blurred my vision,” because I will not be your plaything, Diego.”

He was shocked at my stubbornness, but intrigue overshadowed it.

A small smile played on his lips.

“Well, let's see just how long you can hold out until I break you.” he sniggered, dropping me to the cold floor.

"As you've chosen to defy me, expect punishment. Now get out of my sight." He dismissed me with a cold finality.

My legs were trembling as I stood up, I was on the verge of collapsing, but I carried on like I was fine.

I could feel his eyes, heavy on me as I opened the doors and walked out.

I felt light-headed, the bruise on my neck burning, I hoped it didn't scar.

Matron Camilla stood right outside, waiting.

The arrogant look on her face told me she overheard all that transpired between myself and Diego.

“I warned you, didn't I?” she scolded, eying me with disdain.

“I’ve served this clan the longest and I tell you, no one defies the Vargas men and lives to tell the tale.”

“Just pray you survive when he's done with you.” she scoffed.

The whiny sound of her voice irritated me.

I felt Frustrated by how much humiliation Diego had me through, while she was rubbing salt on my fresh wound.

“To hell with your warnings and your almighty Lord Diego, old hag.”

“I’ll die before I marry that monster.” I seethed, releasing my pent-up frustration on her.

She was caught off guard by my sudden outburst, it was obvious that she wielded some amount of authority around here, but I couldn't care less.

She got off my back instantly.

“I hope you don't regret this,” she murmured defeatedly, adjusting her black bob wig to hide her grey hair underneath.

“Come, I’ll show you your room,” she beckoned.

She led me through another hallway that led to a separate suite.

"This is the female staff quarters,” she gestured, showing me inside the foyer.

There were several young women, roughly within my age range, all dressed in white uniforms and black aprons, the princess Mary style.

As we came in, they acknowledged Camilla respectfully, Their demeanor was stiff and professional.

While I remained invisible to them.

"These women are the lifeblood of the clan," she explained, gesturing dismissively.

"They work as maids, cooks, and waitresses.”

"Being a staff here means the Vargas clan owns you," she explained.

"You are not allowed to leave the villa for security reasons, not without Lord Diego’s direct command,” she paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.

Curiosity overrides my apprehension.

"How much are these women paid to give up their freedom?"

“Most of them are here, willingly. The clan takes care of them and their family, so they serve in return.”

Then her tone shifted, with a hint of mockery, "Then the others... well, they're just collateral. Like you." she smirked, her blood-red lips curling up.

We continued down the hallway, passing several identical doors, until Camilla stopped at one.

"This will be your room," she declared, pushing it open and gesturing for me to enter.

It was self-contained, luxurious, and well-furnished than what I had back at home.

Yet, it didn't feel like I belonged in there.

If this was the standard of the staff quarters, then I could barely begin to imagine the extravagance of Lord Diego's suite.

"I'll leave you to settle in," Camilla said, clicking the door shut behind her.

I rushed into the bathroom, hoping a quick shower could help calm my mind, but as the water touched my skin, my thoughts spiraled.

‘What would my papa say when he learns Diego wants to marry me? Oh… he would be more than devastated.’

‘But what if this marriage actually happens and I become shackled to the very man who has made my life a nightmare?’

Lord, have mercy.

I prayed desperately for some kind of miracle.

After the shower, I glanced through the closet. The dresses were stunning and undeniably expensive, on a level of luxury that I had never experienced.

I settled for a stylish tank top with a fit denim, it seemed comfortable and chic altogether.

I wandered around the room, trying to find something to keep myself busy when a sharp knock on the door startled me.

Before I could react, the handle twisted and Camilla appeared, followed by two armed guards.

Confusion washed over me.

‘Why was Camilla here with armed men?’

‘And why did they look like they were here to apprehend a criminal.’

I turned to Camilla for an explanation, but the smug look of triumph on her face told me to expect the worst.

“I’m sorry, Irene,” she taunted, her voice holding no hint of sympathy.

“Lord Diego has ordered for you to be imprisoned in the dungeon until he decides otherwise.”

Her words slammed into me like heavy punches.

Diego intended to make me his puppet, by any means necessary, even if it meant I could become a broken doll.