Bound by broken pieces

The car slowed as it turned onto a quiet road lined with towering trees. Their shadows stretched across the glass like skeletal fingers, clawing at the night. I clutched the bouquet tighter, though its weight felt unbearable, my knuckles white as bone.The silence between us was thick, suffocating, each second dragging like an eternity.Kenneth hadn’t looked at me again since he’d spoken. His gaze stayed fixed on the world outside, as if the blur of the city held all the answers he couldn’t find in me.Finally, the car pulled to a stop in front of a mansion so large it swallowed the night. The house loomed over me, modern, sharp lines of glass and steel, glowing faintly from the lights within. It was beautiful, impressive even, but cold. Cold in a way that made my chest ache.Home, they would call it. But it wasn’t mine. And I doubted it was his either.The driver opened the door, and I stepped out, my gown sweeping across the stone driveway. The air was heavy with the scent of rain,

The room was dark, but I couldn’t sleep.The weight of the silence pressed against my chest, thick and smothering, until I felt like I was drowning in it. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the way Kenneth had left the dining room—back straight, eyes forward, not even sparing me a glance. As though I were invisible.And maybe I was.I sat at the edge of the bed, the hem of my nightdress pooling around my ankles, staring at the faint glow of the moon through the curtains. My hands trembled in my lap, though I wasn’t cold. I was restless.I told myself not to cry, but the tears came anyway, hot, angry, unwanted. They slid silently down my cheeks, falling onto my palms. I pressed my fingers into my skin until it hurt, until I could feel something other than emptiness.It was supposed to be easier, wasn’t it? Marriages like this weren’t about love. They were about names, contracts, survival. I had known that when I said yes, or rather, when I was forced to say yes.But knowing it didn’t m

The creak of the hinges felt louder than a scream.I froze, every muscle in my body locking tight as the door to my room drifted open inch by inch. The air shifted, heavy with something unseen, something dangerous.A shadow slipped inside.My pulse spiked, hammering so hard it hurt. Whoever it was moved with silence so deliberate it unsettled me more than footsteps would have. Not Kenneth. Kenneth never crept. He stormed. He commanded space like it belonged to him.This was different.I stayed perfectly still, lying on my side with my back to the door, my breaths shallow, feigning sleep. My mind screamed at me to move, to scream, to fight, but fear pinned me in place.The shadow lingered at the threshold for a moment before stepping deeper into the room. The floor groaned faintly under the weight.One step.Two.Closer.I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to glance over my shoulder. My heart thudded so violently I feared the intruder would hear it.A faint rustle followed, like

The night air bit into my skin as I froze before the idling car, my breath catching like a trapped bird. My legs screamed to run, but my body refused to obey. The stranger from the study—sharp suit, eyes like black steel, a predator wrapped in calm, watched me with that same cutting smile.“Get in, Mrs. Diego,” he repeated, his tone smooth, polished, lethal. “We’ve been waiting for you.”The car’s interior was dark, shadow swallowing shadow, but I could see the faint outline of another figure in the backseat. Watching. Waiting.My hand gripped the rusty gate behind me, the cold iron biting into my palm. Kenneth’s voice still rang in my head, Run.But where could I run now? Behind me, chaos exploded: shouts, fists meeting flesh, Kenneth’s low growl like a storm breaking. He was fighting for me. Fighting them.And yet here was this man, calm and patient, like he already knew the end of the story.“I’m not going with you,” I said, though my voice shook.The stranger chuckled softly, tilt

His grip on my shoulders was bruising, his eyes burning into mine with a feverish intensity that made it hard to breathe. The words still echoed between us, They want you dead.I froze, staring up at him, trying to make sense of the whirlwind that was Kenneth Diego. One moment he was cold, calculating, calling me leverage. The next, he was trembling with the kind of desperation that didn’t belong to a man who claimed not to care.“Why?” My voice was barely a whisper, my lips trembling as I searched his face. “Why me?”His jaw clenched. He looked away, as though my question was too dangerous to answer, his hand still hot and heavy on my shoulders.“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”That wall again. His fortress of silence.I swallowed hard. “I don’t want your protection if it comes with chains. If I’m already marked”“You don’t get a choice, Melinda.” His voice cracked, low but sharp. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted you here? But if you step out of line,