Zerina's POV
"Zerina, your sister needs your help. You've got to marry in her place."
Father's stern voice rang through my mind.
I woke up with a start, my heart racing, hoping it was just a dream and that Father didn't actually push me to marry a man I know nothing about.
I took in my surroundings. Last I checked, I had cried myself to sleep in my bedroom but why does this not feel like my room. The bed was too vast and comfortable. The room was dark and only a flicker of candle was left on. I could make out the outlines of exquisite furniture, the shapes of what seemed to whisper luxury and opulence. My gaze darted around the room, trying to take in every detail, but it was too dark to see clearly.
"No, no, no, please let it not be what I'm thinking." I said aloud, turning on the bed while gasping.
"What is it that you are thinking?"
A chill ran down my spine. I didn't need to rack my brain to know who that was but I asked anyway. "Who... Who are you and what… How did I end up here?
He was sitting on the sofa. The man sat lazily, his hands crossed behind his head with such a relaxed composure. He looked like a King. He was staring closely at me. He didn't respond to my questions, instead he stood up, his movements fluid. As he approached the bed, I felt a sense of dread wash over me.
"You're my wife," he said in a low voice.
That's when it all came crashing on me. Father had transported me to this house while I was sleeping, and he did it without my consent.
Panicking, I turned to look up at him, the gust blew out the last flicker of the candlelight in the room, enveloping me in a pitch of darkness. I couldn't make out the shape of the man standing over me.
Over dinner, I recalled when Father had stopped eating, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. His gaze rested on me. "Zerina, listen up."
I dropped my fork anticipating what it was father had wanted to say to me that made them bring me out of the trauma room early.
"A man, Lysander Slade. His family is the richest and most prominent in City A and he is equally the next big thing in the country. No one in the world has more potential than him. It's for your own good to be able to marry him."
"Marry??" My hands shook.
His gaze flickered for a moment. "Bianca was supposed to marry him, but you know she already has a fiance and she just told us earlier that she's pregnant with Dave's child. Zerina, you will help your sister and marry him in her place. Plus, we all know that no one knows you exist. And equally, you have a striking resemblance with your sister. Just that your hair colour is not the same but so what, you girls dye your hair, don't you? So no one will notice the difference."
I was so confused at the moment that I didn't know what to say or do. Yes, I rarely go out but that doesn't mean I was oblivious to the world and didn't hear about the rumors of Lysander Slade.
"Sure, it couldn't be the same Lysander I've heard of, right? The man rumoured to have married three wives who didn't live after the night of their wedding? "
I asked, my body shaking from the dilemma I knew I was in if Father actually confirmed what I asked.
"Don't ask such stupid questions. All I do is for your own good. "
I stood up in anger. Something flickered inside me. I would've said I felt a little powerful but that would be me imagining things. "For my own good or for your own good? For more money into your rotten pockets?"
Florence stood up then and landed a harsh slap on my cheeks. "Don't say that about your father. Don't be disrespectful. "
I turned to her, "Oh, and this must be the reason you brought those nurses to check up on me. I knew that your act of "kindness" must be for a purpose."
I glared at them all including my sister who just sat there arrogantly. "I will not marry that so-called 'rich and prominent' man. I will marry who I choose to marry . You have no right whatsoever to decide what or who is good for me."
Saying that, I ran off to my room not letting them see the tears on my face.
Despite my protests and resistance, I didn't know they would go through such lengths to make me do their bid. I never believed in fate or destiny.
So why did Lysander choose to marry me when he could marry more worthy women. Shouldn't he be careful of who he marries?
Besides, we've never met each other and our marriage was arranged if not contracted by him and Father in such an arrogant manner.
The man's footsteps got louder and closer, until he was standing right beside me. My mind went blank for a minute.
I couldn't see his face nor could I discern his expression. However, I could feel this eerie energy that emanated from him. It scared me, and with just one glance I found myself gasping for air.
More juicy chapters coming up, favourites 😚 ~Mmeso Writes
Zerina's POV "Zerina, your sister needs your help. You've got to marry in her place." Father's stern voice rang through my mind. I woke up with a start, my heart racing, hoping it was just a dream and that Father didn't actually push me to marry a man I know nothing about. I took in my surroundings. Last I checked, I had cried myself to sleep in my bedroom but why does this not feel like my room. The bed was too vast and comfortable. The room was dark and only a flicker of candle was left on. I could make out the outlines of exquisite furniture, the shapes of what seemed to whisper luxury and opulence. My gaze darted around the room, trying to take in every detail, but it was too dark to see clearly. "No, no, no, please let it not be what I'm thinking." I said aloud, turning on the bed while gasping. "What is it that you are thinking?"A chill ran down my spine. I didn't need to rack my brain to know who that was but I asked anyway. "Who... Who are you and what… How did I end up
'A heart bound by duty is heavy with sorrow.'Zerina's POVI burst into my room after dinner, slamming the door shut behind me. Tears streamed down my face as I collapsed onto the bed, my body wracked with sobs. I cried out to the universe, my voice shaking with desperation. "Why was I even created if my life is supposed to be this miserable? What did I do to make life suck this much?" I lay there, my small frame trembling with each ragged breath. My fists were clenched into the bedding, and the room was silent except for my anguished cries and the soft rustle of the bed sheet. Still in tears, I reached out blindly for my phone. My fingers trembled as I typed very fast into the keyboard. Lysander Slade.I was shaking so much when the search results loaded. I just pray it wasn't the same man. 'Three wives married by a man, all die after the wedding night.'‘For the past five years, he is rumored to have married three wives with each of them passing away after their marriage night. T
Zerina’s POV Florence's gaze raked over me with contempt, her eyes lingering on every inch of my body. I felt a surge of discomfort and shifted uncomfortably under her intense scrutiny. "Come closer and stop standing there like a dumwit," she snapped. I walked closer, still confused about what was happening.The nurses moved forward, guiding me towards the bed. I sat down, my eyes scanning them warily. What if they were here to administer injections? I had an intense fear of needles, and the thought made my heart race. It was one of my major fears and it made it to the top five of the list. I really hoped to God that it wasn't injections or big needles because I would scream my lungs out and run out of my room. The nurses untied my towel, leaving me exposed. I felt a wave of shame and tried to cover myself, but Florence's sharp voice stopped me. "Don't you dare do that. Let the nurses do what they came here for. You are to just sit there and obey every single damn instruction."I swa
Zerina's POVAs I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I'm met with a stranger's gaze. My eyes are red-rimmed from crying, my face gaunt and my skin sallow. I'm a pitiful sight. A shadow of my former self. My golden hair is no longer as bright and beautiful as it has always been. It's an ugly kind of dull gold. I'm ashamed of the state I'm in, ashamed of the dirt and grime that clings to my skin. My phone rings somewhere around my room. Weakly, I turned to pick my dirty purse from the floor and fished for my phone. The call dial read. Shea. A dull, but happy smile appeared on my lips. My best friend. I answered the call and put my phone to my ear. There came Shea's voice. Loud and bubbly. "Hi, Zerina. Will you die if you'd just pick up your phone and call me? It's been a week now. No calls, no text. No smiley face emojis to show that you care about me. Or am I not important to you anymore?" I can feel her pouting, lying on her bed or sitting on her couch with hot coffee and a
Zerina’s POV I couldn't tell when it was day or night but according to my calculations, I've spent two nights in this room. Two traumatizing nights of tears, exhaustion and terror. My bones ached from curling up on the cold, unforgiving floor. My skin bruised, stiff beneath my torn, filthy red dress. My favourite dress now turned to rag.My stomach growled with a hunger that's almost unbearable. It's like a constant, gnawing ache that refuses to subside. My mouth feels like the Sahara desert. Every time I think about water, my throat constricts and I feel the need to cry. But it's not the physical discomfort that's getting to me—its the emotional toll. I felt weak, vulnerable and helpless. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I think about the simplest things, like taking a warm bath or enjoying a cold glass of water. These things that were once so mundane now seem like luxuries I can only dream of. I stare off in the dark towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by the desperat
Zerina's POV Don threw me into the room like I was a sack of potatoes. A disgusting one at that. My body hit the cold hard floor. I watched him walk out . I crawled fast in the dirt towards the door. "Please, don't close the door. I don't like the dark." But before I could reach him, the door slammed in my face. I whimpered, staring off in the dark. The room was small and suffocating. No windows, no light. Four solid walls that caged me in. It was a place of unimaginable terror. Where darkness and terror consumed me whole. I moved to a small corner of the room, pulling my knees to my chest and breathed. Shallow, shaky breaths. My tears could've filled a big bucket. The walls seemed to close in on me making the space feel suffocatingly small. I shivered uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rot. I was fourteen when I was first brought into this room. Clarissa and Bianca took turns in whipping me to their heart contents. Bloo