Forced To Marry A Broken Monster.

I was freed from one monster, only to be thrust into the arms of another.

It has been exactly a year since I lived through a nightmare, a year since I was rescued from my own home. I didn't have enough time to heal before I was told that I was going to be married off.

I begged. I begged for a whole year, and in the end, I still found myself in a room, alone, in a white wedding dress, about to walk down the aisle to marry a man I did not know.

"You'll be fine." I heard him call out.

I glanced up, only to see that he was staring down at me with nothing but void in his eyes.

"You promised that you would protect me." I accused as tears blurred my eyes.

"You'll be protected here." He dismissed before he gave me his back.

"I hate you." I whispered, feeling my scarred heart break in my chest all over again.

"I hate you for what you'd allowed to happen to me, and I hate you for what you're allowing to happen to me now." I added, hoping my words would hurt my coldblooded father.

I knew I had failed miserably when he glanced at me over his right shoulder.

"I'll give you ten more minutes to finish up. I'll wait outside." He said before he pulled the door open and slightly limped out.

My entire body shook, fear enveloping me like a thick blanket, nausea making my stomach twist and spots appearing in my vision.

I wanted to escape. I've been wanting to escape for 365 days. But my injured leg wouldn't let me go too far, and neither would my fear of people.

I've thought about ending my life one too many times, but I never forced myself to do what my captor had tried to do once.

I raised my shaking hands up to my face, and wiped the fallen tears. No matter how long it's been, I could still feel every single cut, bruise, and bump that had enveloped me.

No matter how healed some of my wounds were, each of the faded scars burned as if they were freshly cut. I could still feel the monster's hands on me, stealing the innocence I once had.

And now this.

A sob escaped my lips as I realized that my fate was sealed. How unfortunate does one have to be to live a life like mine?

A single knock came from the door, and I knew it was my father giving me the final warning.

Suppressing more of the sob that wanted to escape my lips, I pushed myself to my feet and immediately winced when pain shot up my right leg.

It started with the dull sensation of pricking of needles from my toes, traveling up my ankle, painfully thundering all the way up to my knee, and exploding at my hip.

Some injuries are never meant to heal.

A large bat swinging towards my right leg popped into my head, and I let out a gasp, forcing myself away from the memory. "I'll make you look just like your worthless father..." Was what he had said when he swung the metal bat over and over again.

Another impatient knock came from the door, and I knew my time was up.

I slowly limped towards the door, stopping mid-way to glare at the full-length mirror.

It would be an understatement to say that I looked absolutely horrible. My hair was bound on the top of my head, revealing every inch of my face and the horror written all over it. Confusion was mixed in my eyes, my brain rotting at the thought of my father thinking it was a good idea to give me away to a man from another city, a man who might be just as bad, or even worse, than the man who destroyed my entire life.

I tore my eyes away from my reflection and wiped my tears once more before limping towards the door. I didn't bother to reach for the flowers. The white roses mocked me, and I was not willing to let them mock me more by walking down the aisle with them in my hand when they represented young love and innocence.

There was no such thing as love in this marriage, and my innocence was stolen from me. I didn't need the roses to remind me of them.

I opened the door and came face to face with my father again, the great Victor Viper.

I couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds, too afraid that my hatred for him would consume me whole.

He didn't bother to offer me his arm. He already knew I wouldn't touch him, nor would I touch anyone else. My Aphephobia had been a controlling factor in my life for the past year, and he was well aware of it.

"Come." He ordered in an emotionless voice before he started walking away. I followed after him, trying to stop myself from falling because of how weak my knees felt.

I kept my gaze down. No amount of thinking about my safe place was able to calm me down.

When we reached the door of the main room, the need to hold my breath until I could no longer keep consciousness was unimaginably great, anything to get out of this situation.

The coward in me stopped me from doing so, and I was left hopeless when the doors swung open, revealing a room filled with a few people and empty chairs, and two men standing in front of all of them.

One was a priest that would officiate the marriage, and another was...

I had stifled the gasp that bubbled up my chest and had to drop my eyes to stop .uh0 my head. I'd seen him only once, and I was unable to get it out of my head.

I only knew his name.

Jacopo Nicolo.

I just didn't know he was a scarred man. No, he's not just scarred. He was a burned man with two different eyes, one light, and the other cloudy.

My stomach hit the floor.

The man who had taken my life from me was a scarred man, and he had taught me how ruthless men with scars were. This one looked much worse than the last one did. And I couldn't stop myself from already imagining all the cruel and awful things that were waiting for me the second I became his wife and his prisoner.