Chapter 2

Amelia's pov.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The girl looking back at me didn't look like a bride. She looked like someone walking towards an ending she never chose.

My lips were pale and my eyes were hollow, despite the makeup that was carefully applied on my face by strangers who kept smiling too much.

I was getting married today. To a man old enough to be my grandfather.

And tonight, I would belong to him in ways I didn't even want to think about. That thought alone made me feel sick as I held tightly onto the fabric of my dress, my mind betraying me and dragging me to what waited after the vows. My first time. My body. My fear.

I had always imagined my wedding day differently. I used to think it would be the best day of my life, full of laughter, and I would be nervous in a good way, holding the hand of a man who loved me, a man who looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.

Instead all I felt was silence and disgust.

Sometimes, I wondered if things would have been different if I had known my real parents.

If I hadn't been dropped in a basket outside an orphanage like something unwanted. A child no one claimed. A child nobody came back for.

Maybe if my biological parents were alive or if they had wanted me. This wouldn't be happening. Maybe I wouldn't be standing here dressed for a marriage I never agreed to, being sold off to save a family that was never mine.

A knock on the door snapped me back to reality, and the door opened even before I could answer.

Emily walked in first, her heels clicking against the floor like she wanted me to hear her coming, and causing unnecessary noise. Obviously where Emily is, they were sure to be a nuisance.

She looked pleased to see me in such a situation. She was feeding off my pain as she smiled brightly at me, but I was more than convinced that her smile wasn't just something sweet, Instead it was a smile that wasn't kind.

“Well,” she said, looking me up and down. “You actually look expensive and luxurious. I guess marrying a billionaire does have its own benefits.”

My throat felt dry but I said nothing to her. I really wasn't in that mood to banter words with her or anybody. I didn't have the strength to fight her today.

She stepped closer to me, placing her finger under my jaw and she lifted up my face, my eyes staring into hers.

“Enjoy your new life. At least now, you'll finally be out of ours.”

“That's enough, Emily,” my stepmother said as she followed her in, her voice was calm as usual but I knew that was a warning.

Emily turned to her “What? I'm just being honest.”

“Watch your mouth! I said that's enough!” her mother repeated, her voice firmer this time.

“Unbelievable,” she said, looking at me once more as disgust flared in her eyes. Then she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed after she left felt heavier than earlier when I was just alone.

My adopted mother walked closer to me, as she reached for my hands. “Are you okay, Amelia?” she asked and I almost laughed at the question.

But before I could answer her. The door was pushed open again, but this time around it wasn't Emily but my adopted father who walked in.

He didn't look at my face. Not even once. I wondered why I was still even calling him my father, a father doesn't sell his daughter off to such an old man.

“It's time. Give me your hand,” he said without any emotions.

I hesitated. My fingers trembled as I pulled my hand back, instinctively hiding it behind me like a child afraid of punishment.

My father sighed impatiently. And before he could say anything else, my adopted mother gently took my hand. Her touch was warm and careful, like she was afraid I might shatter but I had already shattered into what was unrepairable.

“It's okay Amelia. I'm here.” she whispered, and placed my hand into my father's.

I didn't look at him as he led me away.

I was seated alone on the edge of a bed that didn't feel like mine. The master bedroom was massive, dressed in dark wood and gold accents.

Everything screamed wealth. The curtains were heavy and the room had soft lighting. The bed was so large that it looked like it would swallow me.

My eyes landed on the black lingerie that was laid neatly on the bed. The one lawson Clark had sent to me. My hands shook as I changed out of my wedding dress.

When I finally looked at myself again, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror. The lingerie made my body feel exposed, it was something I wasn't used to. It felt like I was already stripped off of something deeper than clothes.

The door opened, and Lawson walked in slowly, his presence filling the room instantly and his eyes roamed over me, without shame and without hesitation . He didn't even feel disgusted by his own actions.

I felt my body tense under his piercing gaze.

He didn't speak right away. His fingers finally brushed my arm, then he wrapped his hand around my waist. My skin reacted instantly, not with desire but with fear. I hated that my body could feel anything at all.

I froze as he leaned closer to me, his gaze lingering on my body, on my exposed breast, and on my lips.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured and I felt like bursting into tears but I had to act strong, even when I wasn't.

His hand moved further into my breast and I forced myself not to react oddly. Then he smiled at me wickedly, there was no warmth in it. Every touch felt like a reminder that I didn't belong to myself anymore.

“Don't get confused,” he said calmly. “I didn't marry you for love. Or for that whole husband and wife, wifey nonsense.”

My heart sank when he said that.

“You are not here to be cherished,” he continued, his fingers tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him. “You are something I bought. And you are going to obey every orders I give.”

At that moment, it felt as though my breathing had stopped.

“And one of those, orders, ” he added softly. “Is to seduce my son.”