CHAPTER 1: Martina Robertson

-=Martina's Point of View=-

It is often said that a woman's wedding day is one of the most significant and joyous occasions in her life, perhaps even the most memorable.

It's the day when she joins the man she loves in a bond that will last a lifetime.

This man will accept and love her despite her flaws and imperfections, supporting her through thick and thin, in times of happiness and sadness. However, I find myself devoid of any joy or happiness on my wedding day.

The reason is that I am not marrying out of love, but rather due to being coerced into a union with a complete stranger.

I had wanted to refuse this marriage, but the consequences were too severe. My stepmother threatened to cut off my father's medical support, which could potentially lead to his death.

My father had been involved in a car accident while on his way to pick me up after my solo cruise to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. He had planned to throw a birthday party for me, as is customary for debutantes, but I chose to go on a cruise alone instead.

Although I had previously gone on cruises with my parents when my mother was alive, this time I wanted to experience it with my friends, so I convinced my father to let me go alone.

I had dreams of embarking on a world cruise, but I know it would only result in another intense argument between my father and stepmother.

Ever since my mother passed away when I was fourteen, it has been just my father and me. However, when I turned sixteen, he met Fiona, and they got married. I wanted my father to find happiness, so I supported their union.

At the time of their marriage, my father appeared to be content, leading me to believe I had made the right decision.

Fiona has twin daughters, Alicia and Stefanie, who are the same age as me, so I hoped we would be able to get along. Unfortunately, I was mistaken.

They have despised me from the moment they laid eyes on me, and the only time they feign kindness is when our father and their mother are present. However, when we are alone, they transform into the cruelest individuals I have ever encountered.

Initially, Fiona treated me with kindness regardless of my father's presence, but everything changed when he had the accident that left him paralyzed on one side of his body, making it difficult for him to even speak.

It was then that Fiona's true nature emerged. The doctor declared that my father would never recover, and Fiona's behavior took a complete 180-degree turn.

All along, she had been putting on an act for my father's sake, but now that he was incapacitated, she no longer felt the need to conceal her true self—an abusive and malicious stepmother.

While we may not be wealthy, we manage to live a decent life. We used to have two maids who took care of the household chores, but Fiona decided to dismiss them, claiming that it was an unnecessary expense and that we should handle the chores ourselves. However, by "ourselves," she really meant me.

I attempted to discuss the matter with her, but she argued that our business was failing and we could no longer afford our previous lifestyle. Reluctantly, I agreed. However, I couldn't help but notice that while my lifestyle took a turn for the worse, theirs became more lavish.

I chose not to comment on it, though, as long as they could provide for my father's needs. That was my priority.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, Fiona informed me that she could no longer support my education.

It didn't bother me much since I had a scholarship at my current school. However, she used the excuse that there would be no one to care for my father if I continued attending school. With a heavy heart, I had no choice but to comply.

Since then, I've been confined to home, performing household chores and looking after my father while they enjoyed their carefree lives.

I tried not to complain and remained focused, hoping for my father's miraculous recovery. However, I couldn't hide my rejection when they informed me that I was being forced into an arranged marriage with someone I had never met before.

They claimed it was my father's wish, but I knew it was a lie. I understood my father better than anyone else, and he would never force me into something I was against. I refused, and that's when my stepmother threatened to withdraw all medical support for my father until he passed away. It left me with no choice but to agree to the marriage.

To my surprise, the wedding preparations were completed in just over a month, and throughout that time, I didn't even meet my future husband. However, one thing was clear to me: my future husband must be extremely wealthy.

Every aspect of the wedding was extravagant, from the invitations and my wedding gown to the church, reception, and even the smallest details.

I couldn't help but wonder why my stepsisters weren't upset about not marrying a wealthy man.

The only logical explanation was that my future husband must be unattractive or older. Despite his wealth, my stepsisters had no interest in marrying him, so they decided to force me into this marriage instead.

I questioned them about it, and they claimed that the man specifically chose me as his bride. While that could be a possibility, I still doubted it.

Among the three of us, I was considered the most beautiful and was even regarded as such during my time at school. However, I didn't believe that was the real reason. I suspected that my stepsisters didn't want him as their husband due to his appearance, and I must admit, it frightened me a little.

However, there was something my stepmother said that convinced me: the possibility of my father's recovery. Perhaps, with the amount my future husband is spending on this wedding, I could persuade him to provide the best medical care and doctors for my father.

Maybe then, there's a chance for his true recovery.

"You're the gloomiest bride I've ever encountered," the makeup artist commented, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I am currently in one of the most opulent and expensive hotels in the country, getting my hair and makeup done while awaiting my wedding.

I mustered a forced smile and replied, "I'm just nervous."

"You shouldn't be. You're the most beautiful bride I've had the pleasure of serving, and whoever your groom is, he will be the luckiest man in the world," she complimented.

"Have you met my future husband?" I inquired, trying to sound casual.

"No, not yet, but he must be incredibly handsome, considering your own beauty," she replied.

"I highly doubt it," I silently thought to myself, but chose to keep my doubts to myself. I didn't want to arouse any suspicion or let her know that I had no idea what my groom even looked like.

I remained silent as she continued to apply makeup, babbling about how attractive our potential children could be if I were to become pregnant. It took nearly thirty minutes for her to finish my makeup, and once she set down her brush, she finally allowed me to look in the mirror.

I was astonished by the transformation I saw before me. She had enhanced my features to exude sophistication and royalty.

"You look absolutely stunning," she exclaimed enthusiastically, and I couldn't argue with her.

She instructed me to rise from the chair so I could fully appreciate my appearance with the wedding gown on display, and I truly felt like a princess.

"So, you shouldn't feel nervous anymore, alright?" she inquired.

"Thank you," I responded.

Without lingering any longer, she departed, leaving me alone. Finally, my mind found some peace. All I desired was for this wedding to be over so that I could persuade my future husband to assist my father in his dire situation.

Ten minutes passed when the door swung open, and as I turned, I spotted Fiona and her daughter approaching me. Their faces beamed with joy, as if they had won the lottery.

"Cheer up, Martina! Today is your wedding day, not a funeral," Alicia said, her voice filled with amusement.

"That's right, and you're incredibly lucky to be marrying a wealthy man," Stefanie added, lacking any genuine reassurance.

"Girls, please calm down and stop teasing your sister. Let me have a look at you," Fiona said, inspecting me.

It disgusted me to see her suddenly acting motherly towards me when she had always considered me a burden and now viewed me as a means to achieve her own desires.

"You look stunning, Martina. Your groom will be the luckiest man alive," she said, sounding incredibly insincere.

"Can you at least tell me who I'm going to marry?" I couldn't resist asking.

"That would spoil the surprise, but I can tell you this much: you already know him," Fiona responded mysteriously.

Her unexpected reply caught me off guard, causing me to think about all the people I knew who could potentially be my groom. However, none of them were wealthy enough to afford such an extravagant wedding.

There's no use dwelling on it too much. All I can do is wait. I will meet him once I walk down the aisle.

"Oh, I almost forgot. We have a surprise for you," Fiona muttered, her mysterious smile already giving me a bad feeling.

"Come in!" she exclaimed, and a few minutes later, when the door opened...

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked in shock as I saw my father sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed by a stranger.

"Well, I thought it would be fitting for your dad to witness your wedding. Isn't it every father's dream to see his daughter get married?" she asked innocently, although the wickedness in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.

"We had a deal!" I exclaimed, quickly walking towards my dad.

"Are you okay?" I asked, filled with worry.

I could see how much he struggled to speak, but he managed to weakly utter a "yes" in the end. I held his hands and forced a smile, before directing my gaze back at Fiona.

"We had a deal," I repeated, glaring at her.

"Do we? Sorry, but I don't recall," she answered, pretending to be clueless.

I desperately wanted to throw a tantrum and cause a scene, but ultimately, I decided to stay calm. There was nothing I could do, and Fiona was well aware of it.

We had an agreement that she wouldn't allow my father to witness my wedding. I've always dreamed of the day when my dad would walk me down the aisle, but not under these circumstances.

I resist the urge to cry as I gaze at my father. It's evident that he wants to say something, but the only word that escapes his lips is "don't."

I can sense his attempt to dissuade me from making this significant mistake, but I have to proceed for his sake and the potential of his recovery.

"Don't worry, dad. I promise, I'll be okay," I assure him. "Enough of this drama, let's get ready," Fiona interjects, and I glance at the time, realizing she's right. We all step outside and enter the limousine provided by my future husband, heading towards the grandest church in the country.

During the entire drive, I remained silent, and after another thirty minutes, we finally reached our destination.

The church itself boasts a majestic appearance, captivating all who lay eyes on it. It was constructed over five hundred years ago and is revered as the oldest church in the country.

We wait in the limousine for the ceremony to commence. After a few more minutes, the wedding coordinator approaches us. "The groom is already inside, so be prepared in two minutes," she informs us.

"This is it, Martina. It's your moment to shine," Alicia smirks, and we make our way towards the closed door. Alicia, Stefanie, and Fiona enter through the side door, while Fiona, my dad, and I wait outside.

After a few more minutes, the grand door finally opens. The familiar tune of the "Bridal Chorus," likely the most renowned wedding song, fills the air.

The room is filled with numerous individuals, many of whom I don't recognize. By my side, I have my dad, Fiona, and my stepsisters, while the remaining guests are presumably connected to my future husband.

My thoughts shift to the groom, and my eyes instinctively look ahead. To my astonishment, I finally see the person I am about to be married to. "It's him..."