CHAPTER 4

Araceli

I clenched my fists, my stomach felt dipped, and my head ached. I was feeling different things I had never felt before. I felt anger, rage, and hatred for my soon-to-be husband. For the first time in my life, I was so angry and mad at someone.

I turned and walked toward the door to leave, but a guard stopped me.

“Mr. Matvei Ozlov wants to see you, ma’am.”

I turned and saw him standing up and walking into another room. I followed him into the room. His back was facing me.

“What is your name?!” His deep voice filled the room.

“Araceli,” I answered with my head lowered. I didn’t feel anger anymore, I didn’t feel that rage I felt two minutes ago. It just disappeared.

“Good. Now join the party and act like my wife-to-be.” He slowly turned to me and walked past me without looking at me. I’m not sure he even glanced at me for a second.

I started to feel rage boiling inside me, so I slowly walked outside the room and saw Sonia waiting out there for me. She held my hands and led me to the main rooftop where everybody had gathered. She put a “bride-to-be” sash across my shoulder down to my waist.

I just stood there and watched everybody dancing, some were kissing, and others were maybe making out. A tall man walked up to me.

“Hi, I’m Gael, Matvei’s best friend.” He extended his hand for a shake.

I brought my hand out and shook him. “I’m Araceli.”

He smiled and leaned closer to me. “You look so hot, Araceli.”

I did not smile nor acknowledge what he said, because I knew he was lying. He looked at me and smiled, his white teeth perfectly aligned.

“Let’s join the party, Araceli.” He pulled me to a table where girls and boys were gathered with drinks.

It was my first time drinking alcohol. I quickly forgot the pain I was feeling and started to gulp it down. People cheered for me, and I kept drinking.

The male strippers came toward us and started dancing. One stood in front of me and began performing. I brought my hands forward and touched the muscular chest. I felt surreal and started dancing too. I felt on top of the world.

I didn’t care about my body, pain, or the anger I had felt a few minutes ago. I saw a female stripper bend and wiggle her waist.

Uhmmmm. I think I can do that too. I went forward and bent my waist down, hearing cheers and screams all around me, and I did not care. I wiggled my ass while bending down and stood right up. Someone poured a drink into my mouth; I just drank it. I did not care to know who the person was.

I bent my waist to continue dancing, I felt a strong arm pull me and throw me over his shoulders. His scent was oud and sandalwood, I guess. I did not struggle to come down. I felt safe in his arms until he threw me into the front seat of his car, then turned around to the driver’s seat, and drove.

“W-where are you taking me to?!” I managed to ask him.

He stared at me, his green piercing eyes cold, but I cared less. I lifted my hands and placed them on his face.

“You loo-look so handsome, like a god or something.” He threw my hand back to my body.

I put it back on his face again. “T-tell me, are you my god?!”

He gave me a death stare and removed my hand from his face.

“You hate me, I understand. I hate myself too,” I said slowly. “I hate my body, so I understand if you love Naiara’s ass more than mine.”

I lifted my gown, and the side of my light-toned ass was visible.

“You can see, there’s nothing beautiful abo-about it.” I started crying. “It’s s-soo b-big. It’s n-not pretty at all.”

I felt his fingers wipe my tears. Shivers ran through my spine, and I slowly turned to face him. He was staring at me, his eyes green, his nose pointed, and his lips small and pink like mine.

He came closer, my heart pounding fast, but I remained still. He leaned toward my ear and whispered,

“Ya obozhayu tvoï formy, bol'shaya mama.” His deep voice tickled something in me, even if I didn't understand what he meant.

I adore your curves, big mama.

 He used his hands and pulled my gown down. “Don’t you ever misbehave like that again.”

I kept staring at him, till my eyes became dim, and I dozed off.

****

“Araceli.” I felt a soft hand gently tapping my cheeks.

“Araceli, wake up.”

I opened my eyes slowly, and my hand rose to my head.

“Ouch, it hurts so badly.” I whispered.

“Sorry, take this coffee,” Sonia said while helping me sit up, then handed me some pills to swallow.

I gulped them with water and quietly sipped my coffee. I glanced around and realized I was in another room crowded with girls.

I turned to Sonia, who was staring directly at me, “What are we doing here?!”

“Getting you ready for your wedding, it’s in two hours.” She said as she lifted me up and guided me to the bathroom.

I released a long sigh; I had forgotten I was marrying a stranger today. Someone who made me feel such intense anger and burning rage toward him in less than an hour.

I hate him. I truly do hate him with every part of me, truly.

****

I stood outside St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Manhattan, feeling the wind brush softly against my skin as I adjusted the mermaid wedding dress clinging tightly to my body. It shimmered with countless glitter that sparkled beneath the morning light, making me look less ugly than I felt. My dark brown hair had been styled into a neat bridal updo, and the light nude makeup on my face gave me a quiet softness. The diamond neckpiece resting against my collarbone added a final touch of beauty—enough to make me feel a little less ugly, or so I hoped.

My papa took my hand gently and guided me down the aisle. My heartbeat echoed loudly in my ears as I looked ahead and saw him. Matvei. He stood at the altar in a tailored grey suit that framed his broad shoulders perfectly, paired with matching trousers and a grey tie. His face was blank, unreadable—clearly indifferent, as though none of this mattered to him.

Papa led me to him, nodding politely at the stranger who was about to become my husband before placing my hand in his. The moment our skin touched, my eyes lifted and locked with his. Instantly, everything from the car last night flooded my mind. My cheeks burned with shame, and I quickly lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes again.

I’m so stupid. Why did I do that? What must he think of me now? I practically threw myself at a man I barely know.

“Araceli.” A sharp pinch on my arm made me flinch. The priest was staring directly at me. I suddenly became aware of the entire congregation watching.

“I do,” I blurted, assuming that must be what they were waiting for.

The priest turned to Matvei. “Do you, Matvei Orlov, take Araceli Serrano to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to love and honor, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he replied flatly, staring off to the side as if he wished he were anywhere else.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

I stepped back instinctively, avoiding his eyes, but he moved forward and pressed a light peck to my cheek. Shivers ran down my spine. When I looked up, he was already walking away from the altar.

Hurt clawed at my chest. I followed quickly so no one would stare at me oddly.

“I had the best sex of my life last night with your husband, my dear ugly stepsister,” Naiara whispered behind me. “Enjoy your marriage.”

I halted my steps and turned.

“Oops,” she smirked, hand over her mouth. “That’s if he doesn’t come back for more. Who knows? He might leave you and marry me instead.”