Chapter 3

Lauren's POV

“Get the doctor ready!” a deep voice commanded, nothing more than a groggy sound to my sore ears as I struggled to wake up.

Coldness like nothing I had ever known controlled my body from head to toe, and it was not just cold, I was soaking wet too. Every inch of my body was hurting. Even my eyelids ached as I pulled them apart.

“Finally awake,” the deep voice drawled.

I lifted my head using more strength than I thought I would. I was still in my clothes coming from the hospital but my pants were ripped at the knee, and there was a pain in my ribs as I took a sharp breath.

Flashes of memories attacked me quickly. The gunshot, my father’s lifeless body. The men who had injected me ... How was I still alive?

“You seem lost in thoughts.” The deep voice mumbled, reminding me that I wasn't alone. I turned my head sharply, my eyes locking onto the source. A man sat in a high-backed chair beside me. His posture was lazy and his aura was commanding. I could only make out his glowing green eyes set on me, against his dark silhouette. My alarm bells went off warning me of him. He's dangerous.

“Who are you?” My voice sounded throaty as I asked.

The man leaned forward, his glowing green eyes narrowing slightly as a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He rested his elbows on his knees, his fingers held.

“That’s not the question you should be asking,” he replied smoothly, his voice deep and calm, yet laced with an edge that made my skin crawl.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and scratchy. “Then what should I be asking?”

His smirk widened ever so slightly, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. “Why are you here? Or perhaps… how you’re still alive.”

The memories of the attack replayed in my mind like a haunting reel—the gunshot, my father collapsing, the sharp sting of the needle. My chest tightened, panic bubbling beneath the surface.

“What do you want from me?” I demanded, my voice shaking despite my attempt to sound firm.

The man chuckled softly, the sound devoid of humor. “You’re asking all the wrong questions, Lauren.”

Hearing my name fall so easily from his lips sent a shiver down my spine. My fingers clenched the damp fabric of my pants.

He straightened in his chair, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light behind him. “That doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I’m in charge.”

In charge?

My thoughts spun around quickly. He had to be the boss of those killers. I had to get out of here somehow, even if I get killed in the process.

“I need answers,” I said firmly, summoning whatever courage I had left.

He raised a brow, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

“Why am I here?” I demanded. “What do you want from me?”

He stood up, stepping closer and shocking me with his overwhelming presence. To my utter shock, he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a gleaming diamond ring.

“I want you to marry me.”

My breath hitched. I stared at the ring, my mind blanking out as if my brain had short-circuited.

“You can’t be serious,” I said finally, my voice shaking.

Instead of responding, he reached into the inner pocket of his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a folder.

My eyes dropped to the contents… a marriage contract.

“You have to sign it,” he said, his tone clipped, as though it were an order rather than a request. “The sooner, the better for you…and for your mother.”

My heart froze as his words registered. My mother.

I shot him a glare, my voice trembling with anger and panic. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

The evil man tilted his head, the smirk on his lips widening as if he found my defiance amusing. “That depends entirely on you, Lauren. Sign the contract, and she remains untouched.”

My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms.

“You’re insane,” I spat, my voice rising with barely contained rage. “What kind of person forces someone into marriage with threats?”

“Why would you even think I’d agree to this?” I hissed, my voice low and venomous.

His green eyes gleamed, and he leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating. “Because you’re smarter than you look,” he said simply. “And because you understand that I don’t make empty threats.”

My mind raced. The memories of my stepmother’s cruel sneer and my stepsister’s mockery flared in my thoughts. They had destroyed everything…the life I was supposed to have, the family I was supposed to belong to.

If I agreed to this insanity, I would be binding myself to a dangerous man, but I would also gain something; power.

“But he's a monster,” I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he grinned, a cruel, chilling expression that made my stomach churn. “And now, Lauren, you’re the monster’s wife-to-be. Congratulations.”

He straightened, brushing invisible lint off his tailored jacket, his calm demeanor only fueling my fury. I was trembling with anger as I spat, “You’re insane if you think I’ll marry you!”

He paused at the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, and turned to glance back at me. The smirk on his face was more infuriating than ever.

“You’ll marry me, Lauren,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk but laced with an unshakable authority. “You don’t have a choice.”

Before I could retort, he disappeared through the door, leaving me fuming in the dimly lit room.

I jumped when the door creaked open again, half expecting him to return. Instead, a middle-aged woman with a kind but resigned expression entered, carrying a long garment bag draped over her arm.

She avoided my furious glare as she walked to the small table near the bed and unzipped the bag with quiet efficiency. The dress she pulled out was nothing short of exquisite, a cascade of shimmering white silk and intricate lace that glowed faintly in the dim light.

“You need to get ready,” she said softly, keeping her gaze lowered.

“For what?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

“For your marriage,” the maid replied, as if the words didn’t carry the weight of a death sentence. “Tomorrow.”

I stared at her, the reality of her statement hitting me like a slap. My throat tightened as I struggled to find words. “Tomorrow?” I finally choked out.

She nodded, carefully draping the dress over a nearby chair. “The Boss has arranged everything. The ceremony will take place at noon.”

I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken. “You’re all insane,” I muttered, clutching the edge of the bed to steady myself. “I’m not marrying him.”

“He'll kill you if you don't.”