THE NAME THAT CHANGER EVERYTHING

NIRELLE

"Yvette, go get her ready," Enoch said to my mom, and she moved to me immediately, holding me by the elbow and trying to drag me out. It wasn't a request, but I stepped forward and shook my head anyway.

"What do you mean by 'get ready'?" I ask, and as if my mother has been waiting for this moment, she lands a slap across my face. My hand clutched my face as if it were a reflex. I was not supposed to ask any questions; I have never been given the opportunity to, and it does not change now.

"You are getting married; is that not clear?" Cory asked, looking my way. I stare at him for a brief moment before I turn to my mother, my hand still clutching my cheek in pain. I should be used to pain, but surprisingly, I am not.

"Who am I getting married to? Why am I getting married?" The question tumbled out of my mouth at once. Enoch stared at me, releasing a grunt that was enough to shake the room. He pushed himself off the table and came out so he was close to me. His proximity to me made my body tremble in fear.

I felt bile rise up to my mouth. I was disgusted. How dare he try to get close? I felt myself almost throwing up in anger, but I managed to keep it down. If I threw up on the expensive carpet, I knew that I would be the one to clean it off at the end.

"Since when did you get to ask questions?" he asked, and I take a step back, but before I can, Yvette holds me in place and pulls me forward. "You do not ask questions and only do as I say," he says, and I shake my head.

"No..." I begin, but the sentence is barely out of my mouth when Yvette slaps me across my face again. This time, I feel blood in my mouth. "Why would you say I should marry?" I ask.

If they were going to sell me off anyway, I guess this was the time to say all I wanted to say. They were so cruel to me, so why did I have to do their bidding? Who knew the reason they were selling me off? Maybe they wanted to pay off a debt that Cory had incurred, and as usual, I was the one to bear it for him.

"Do you need to know why you should marry? I am your father, and you have to do what I say." He charges towards me and holds me on my chin, squeezing it down with his huge hands. I feel pain surge through my body, but I try not to react. It seemed like my pain was their meal, and I was not in the mood to give them the satisfaction of it. Flashbacks of his hands riding up my skirt while I lay under him helplessly flood my memory, and I feel once again as if I want to cleanse my stomach by throwing up, but I control myself. He lets go of my chin, and I stagger backwards; he looks to Yvette and nods.

Yvette holds me firmly by the elbow and drags me out. They want me to marry, and yet I can't know who I am marrying or the reason for it. I sigh as I allow her to pull me across the hall. "You dare question him? You know what he would do to you if he gets angry, yet you feel the best thing to do on your birthday is to get him angry?" Yvette asks me as she opens up one of the doors and tosses me in.

"So you remember?" I ask, my mind lost in thought. Their hitting had made me forget it for a short while. "You remember, and instead of cake and gifts, you decided that the best thing to do for me was to throw me into a marriage I am not prepared for and add a little beating to it?" I ask.

She gives me a dangerous look, and in that moment, I do not mind; they could kill me for all I care because death seemed to be better than the hell I was about to go through. "Who is he?" I ask and see her body stiffen at the question.

"Who is it?" I ask again, this time my voice coming out strained and in pain.

"Let's get you ready," she says, taking off the dress from the bed and pushing it into my hands. The delicate soft cloth brushes against my skin and I almost smile; this seems to be the best of all the dresses I have ever had. My wedding dress is the best I have ever had. It sounds pathetic that the daughter of a millionaire would never have had any nice things but yet that is my life, the life of Nirelle Thamore.

"Who is it?" I ask again, this time projecting how serious I am about getting a response from her. She stops in her tracks and turns to me. I can tell from the way her eyes dance that I would not like the answer, and she is hiding something from me.

"You have no choice but to marry him; he asked for you, and your father just has to do this for you and your brother to live a good life." I almost scoff at her, but I know she might hit me for it, so I manage to hold it down. "It's Lucien Vexley."

"Lucien Vexley?" I stammer as I look at her, and she nods. I wanted to laugh and tell her to stop the prank, but knowing them, this was not a prank; I was about to move from hell to Hades.