Ch 7

The car came to a slow stop in front of a large, secluded chapel.

It was beautiful in the kind of way that felt wrong, like beauty has been used as bait. Ivy spilled down its aged stone walls, gold lanterns glowed warmly by the arched entrance, and a red carpet was rolled out like this were some kind of elegant celebration.

To me, it was a trap.

The car door opened, and Alessandro stepped out first, lean and dangerous in his black tuxedo. I didn’t move. My body refused to obey, I hadn’t agreed to any of this, not truly. In my mind, I was still trying to hold on to the illusion of freedom.

But before I could even take another breath, Alessandro reached in and yanked me out of the car.

I stumbled slightly, the heels unsteady beneath me. The weight of the dress dragged behind me, white lace trailing like a ghost I couldn’t shake. It clung to me, a reminder that I was being buried alive in silk and thread.

We hadn’t even reached the chapel steps when Alessandro suddenly stopped. He turned sharply, gripping my wrist with bruising force as he leaned in close.

His voice was a quiet growl in my ear, low and commanding.

“Listen. Respect yourself there. Say the vows and don't make a scene. If you so much as think about embarrassing me in front of the priest. . . ”

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

“I won’t hesitate to wipe out your entire family.” My heart skipped a beat.

He leaned in even closer, his breath cold on my cheek. “Your father. And you included.”

I looked up at him slowly, swallowing hard. His eyes were merciless, empty of emotion, empty of mercy. There was no bluff in his threat, just ice and promise.

I said nothing, I couldn't, my voice had vanished, and my throat was too dry to form words.

I know he thinks that's the best, that's exactly what he wanted.

I walked beside him in silence, the sharp click of my heels echoing through the stone corridor like a countdown to my fate.

When we reached the chapel doors, I took in the scene before me.

Just plain, no flowers, no music, and most importantly no family.

Just a grim-faced priest standing at the altar with Luka beside him. And Alessandro’s impeccably dressed men scattered through the pews like armed sentinels.

This wasn’t a wedding.

Alessandro led me forward, and we stood before the altar.

I was in a daze. The priest, an aging man with a kind face that didn’t match the coldness in his eyes, gave us a gentle smile. “Shall we begin?”

I nodded weakly, even though every part of me was screaming.

Not long after, the vows began.

Alessandro spoke first, his voice smooth and unflinching, each word like a strike, like he intended.

“I, Alessandro Vanilli, take you, Rue Fawn, to be my lawfully wedded wife… to have and to hold, for better and for worse from this day forward…”

I didn’t hear the rest, not really. I just couldn't.

All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. The sound of invisible chains locking around my wrists. The death of every dream I had ever dared to hope for.

Then the priest turned to me. “And you, Rue Fawn?”

I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out.

A second passed, then another second.

Luka shifted uncomfortably beside the priest. Alessandro’s fingers twitched at his side. And then I remembered his threat outside,

I won’t hesitate to wipe out your entire family.

My breath caught. My lips trembled.

“I…” I choked out, forcing my gaze upward. The priest waited, probably looking at me with pity in his eyes. “I take you, Alessandro Vanilli, to be my lawfully wedded husband…”

I repeated the rest like I was reading from a script I didn’t understand, foreign, and definitely hollow.

Each word was bitter and each vow was a lie.

When the priest finally declared us husband and wife, I didn’t smile.

Then came the kiss. I didn’t even have time to prepare before Alessandro wrapped his arm around my waist and crushed his mouth down on mine.

It wasn’t a loving kiss at a wedding. It was full of domination, control, and possession. Silently marking his territory.

I didn’t kiss him back. I couldn’t, I was frozen.

And then, without warning, he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. Gasps echoed around the room, mine included, as he strode down the aisle without so much as a nod to anyone else.

“Put me down!” I shouted, squirming, fists pounding against his back.

“Be quiet,” he growled.

“You’re insane!”

He didn’t even pause.

“I’m your husband now,” he said coldly. “Get used to it.”

Behind me, I could hear Luka speaking to the priest, probably signing the marriage certificate as if this entire nightmare was the most ordinary thing in the world.

After a while, I just stopped, I didn’t fight anymore.

What was the point?

I hung limp over Alessandro’s shoulder, my gaze fixed on the marble floor beneath us. My veil dragged behind like a white flag of surrender, the symbol of a bride turned prisoner.

A brief drive later, we pulled up to what could only be described as a mansion, different from the one he had held me in before.

The wrought-iron gate swung open automatically, revealing an estate so massive and opulent it looked like something out of a royal documentary. Golden lamps lit the driveway. White marble statues lined the walkway like silent, watchful guardians. We passed through manicured gardens, and I realized my family’s entire house could’ve fit in one wing of this place, maybe even a closet.

I was speechless.

By the time we reached the main entrance, Alessandro didn’t wait for a greeting or a welcome.

He flung the grand double doors open, still carrying me like a piece of luggage, and ascended the sweeping staircase as if nothing about this was unusual.

Inside, the mansion was sleek and modern, with gray stone walls, floor-to-ceiling glass windows, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and cold, expensive furniture that looked too stiff to ever sit on.

He pushed open a door and stepped into what I could only assume was his bedroom.

No, his suite.

It was larger than my entire old apartment.

Without a word, he threw me onto the massive bed. My body bounced slightly, and I looked up to find his gaze searing into mine.

“This is your home now,” he said.

“You mean to say this is my prison,” I whispered under my breath.

He shrugged off his jacket, loosened his tie.

Panic shot through me. I scrambled upright. “What are you doing?”

He raised a brow, already unbuttoning his shirt. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“No. . no, you can’t just. . .”

“I’m your husband,” he cut in sharply. “And I will claim what’s mine.”

I backed up on the bed, heart pounding.

“You can’t make me.”

“I won’t need to,” he replied, stepping closer, voice low and dangerous. “You’re mine now, Rue. Sooner or later, you’ll stop struggling.”

My chest tightened. I had never felt so cornered, so utterly powerless.

My voice came out small, shaking.

“I’ve… I’ve never done this before.”

He stopped.

For the first time since I met him, since this terrifying, twisted journey began, his mask slipped.

“What?” he said, blinking.

I sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around myself.

“I’ve never been with anyone. Ever.”

He froze. He was completely still.

The room went quiet, thick with tension. I waited for the smirk, the mocking comment, or a dismissive roll of his eyes.

But he didn’t do any of that. He just… stared.

And then his phone rang. He cursed under his breath and yanked it from his pocket. One glance at the screen, and his entire face hardened.

“My father,” he muttered, venom in his voice.

He hesitated, eyes flicking back to me, sharp, unreadable.

“Wait here,” he growled. “I’ll be back.” Then he was gone.

The door slammed shut behind him, the echo ringing out like a gunshot. I was left alone in a sea of marble, velvet, and silence so heavy it pressed against my skin. But I didn’t move.

I sat there, frozen, hands clenched on the edge of the bed.

What had just happened? I didn’t feel married. I felt… owned.

I glanced down at my hands. The ring he had shoved onto my finger at the altar sparkled mockingly under the chandelier light more of a brand than a symbol of union.

And suddenly, I hated it.

I hated all of it.

This wasn’t love. I was a pawn, a prize, and a name on a contract signed in silence. A life collateral.

But as I sat there, one truth settled deep in my bones.

Alessandro Vanilli might think he possessed me.

He might believe I was his now. But he had no idea who he had just married.