CHAPTER 3

Araceli

Sonia walked in with four other girls, all strikingly beautiful, each carrying a large bag.

Liere went straight to her, kissing both cheeks. “Why did you come with your friends?” she asked while guiding her toward the dining area. “Or were you just passing by?”

Sonia settled beside Naiara, her eyes lingering on me. “Araceli’s bachelorette party is today, and Mr. Matvei Orlov told me to bring the makeup artist and stylists to get her ready,” she said, motioning for the girls to step forward.

Liere and Naiara’s eyes widened. They exchanged a quick, knowing look before turning their attention back to Sonia, their curiosity clearly sparked by the reveal.

“Sonia, can you tell your girls to excuse us for a while?” Liere asked gently.

Sonia turned to the girls and gave a small nod. They immediately understood, slipping out of the dining room to give us space.

I remained seated, silent yet curious. I had always believed bachelorette parties were extravagant events meant for wealthy women, certainly not for someone like me. Marriage or weddings had never been dreams I entertained.

“Sonia, you said this man is cruel,” Liere said carefully. “So why would he suddenly organize a bachelorette party for her?”

“Mama, he even sent professional makeup artists and top designers for her,” Naiara added. “You always said he was cruel, which is why you wanted Araceli with him. But you never mentioned he would treat his future wife like this.”

“He didn’t plan the party out of kindness,” Sonia replied. “I heard his mother insisted he do it. But apparently, it’s still going to be the biggest and wildest bachelorette celebration in New York City.”

Until now, I had never attended any party, and my soon-to-be husband had just crossed off one of the things I thought I would never do. Thinking about that made my stomach flutter, filling me with unexpected happiness.

“Don’t worry, mama, he is very cruel, and you made the right choice giving Araceli to him instead of Naiara,” Sonia continued.

“Alright, Sonia,” Liere said as she walked out of the dining room with Papa, who had stayed silent since I signed the contract.

*******

I sat in a high chair, the blonde makeup artist facing me as she applied products I instantly loved to my face. It made me feel a little less ugly.

She traced my small lips with a bold red liner, then carefully fixed false lashes onto my eyes. I had never been happier. I had never worn lashes in my entire life. I smiled quietly to myself.

“You are very gorgeous,” the makeup artist said.

I turned my head, checking behind me to see if Naiara was standing there.

“What are you looking at?” she giggled. “I’m talking to you.”

“M-me?!” I asked, pointing at myself, and she nodded. No one had ever called me gorgeous before, and I smiled widely, letting my dimples show. “Thank you.”

“You should be a model, you know,” she said, brushing something shimmery across my cheekbones.

“Models are only for slim girls, not someone with my type of body,” I replied, sadness filling my eyes.

She suddenly burst into loud laughter, bending slightly with a hand on her tummy. As she laughed, I noticed a delicate butterfly tattoo on her wrist, and for a moment, I found myself wishing I had something that beautiful too. Her laughter pulled my attention back to her, yet I understood why she found it funny. My body type is the worst in my eyes, and sometimes, even I find it embarrassing.

“You’re hilarious,” she said, returning to lightly misting my face with what I assumed was water. “You have the most beautiful, curvy body I’ve ever seen. You just need a little touch-up.”

The expression on my face shifted instantly; I was stunned.

“I’m so sorry. Did I say something wrong?” she asked softly.

I only shook my head, and she said nothing more. I appreciated that silence. She was lying to me anyway, and I had been foolish enough to believe her the first time she called me gorgeous.

The stylist handed me a long gown that hugged every curve. It pushed up my cleavage, and the slit rode so high along my lap it made me breathless. She paired it with black Louboutin heels with the red bottoms, just like the ones Liere owns, and added gold jewelry to complete the look.

When I turned to the mirror, I felt utterly astonished. I looked so different. I had always wanted to wear outfits like this, but I never dared to show off my body.

“Let’s go,” Sonia said, staring at me for more than a full minute before she continued. “We are already two minutes late, and Mr. Ozlov hates being late.”

I stepped outside and saw Naiara standing gorgeously by the passageway. She looked at me, and her smile disappeared instantly. Her expression darkened.

“No amount of makeup or dress can ever hide your ugliness, Araceli,” she said with a smug smirk. “I pray your soon-to-be husband doesn’t run away the moment he sees you.”

My stomach twisted. For a brief moment, I had allowed myself to believe I looked beautiful, but I had forgotten what I truly was. I’m so stupid. I can never be better, and that’s exactly why I don’t deserve to be beautiful in the first place.

We walked into the car. The interior was stunning, and the driver wore black and white like a true professional. I don’t even know if professional drivers exist, but if they do, this one is definitely among them.

The hosts guided us up the glass staircase, the bass growing louder with every step. When we reached the rooftop, warm jasmine-scented air washed over me. Emerald lighting glowed through tall palm trees, blending seamlessly with Manhattan’s glimmering skyline.

A gold-lit bar stretched across the deck, serving shimmering drinks. Female strippers danced around glowing poles, while muscular male performers, painted in metallic green, moved through the crowd offering cocktails. Laughter echoed from the jade-lit pool, where guests in breathtaking dresses posed for bright photos.

 Everything felt surreal, like I had stepped into an entirely different world. Some men even turned their heads to stare at Naiara as she walked into the place beside me.

“Araceli, come this way to the inner chamber so you’ll meet him,” Sonia said, leading Naiara and me into a dimly lit room. Only female strippers were there, while a few men sat watching them.

“Sonia, where is Araceli’s husband-to-be?” Naiara chuckled.

She pointed to the man in the middle. I could barely see his face, but his muscular body and black tuxedo were clear. A diamond-studded watch glittered on his wrist.

“Araceli, you’re not married yet, and your soon-to-be husband is already looking for ways to please himself. He can sense you won’t be worth anything.”

A sharp pain struck my chest. Tears blurred my vision, so I lifted my eyes to stop them from falling.

“We are not married yet,” I managed to say.

Naiara chuckled evilly and stepped in front. “Let me show you how ugly you look, my dear step-sister.”

I stared as she moved to the pole in front of my soon-to-be husband, letting down her dress. Beneath, a red thong and bra highlighted her curves. She turned her face toward me, smirking.

“Don’t worry. He wo–” Sonia stopped as my soon-to-be husband spanked Naiara’s ass.