I clasped the delicate lace of my bridal gown so tightly that my knuckles turned an ashen white. The pristine fabric, meant to symbolize purity and new beginnings, now enshrouded me like a funerary veil, suffocating the remnants of my former freedom...
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Fury coursed through me, an uncontrollable, primal sensation that swelled with every beat of my heart.
Pain clung to me like a second skin, throbbing with a constant, relentless intensity that drowned every other sensation.
The capacity of my chest felt drastically limited, barely managing to contain such raw emotions.
The door creaked open and in walked Alessandro. The very sight of him stoked the fires of my rage, my blood seeming to churn in anger. Every fibre of my being urged me to unleash my wrath on him, but I bit my tongue, aware that anything I said would only escalate his temper further.
But he didn't share my sense of restraint.
He stepped forward into the room with the same merciless coldness I'd grown accustomed to.
"I thought your father would be happy for you," his words oozed with cruel satisfaction, a wicked smirk carved on his face. "I guess I thought wrong."
Fury clouded my vision as his audacity reached new heights, making a mockery of the very bond I held dear. Leaping from the bed, I squared up to him.
"Don't talk about my father! Don't you dare talk about my father! You don't have the faintest idea about him, about the love that exists between us!" I found myself screaming, my words ricocheting off the walls of the room. "I hurt him because of you. I shattered his heart. I won't ever forgive you, Alessandro Rossi!"
His response was cold, completely devoid of remorse. "You made your bed," he shot back callously, pushing my guilt even further. "And now, you will lie in it."
My anger and frustration bubbled over, as I realized there was no reasoning with him. "You're not human. I swear you're not human! You make me sick!" I spat in utter disgust.
Suddenly, his hand shot out to seize my arm, squeezing it until it hurt. The malicious glint in his eyes served as a cold reminder that I was completely at his mercy.
"Let me go!" I pleaded through gritted teeth. "You're hurting me."
His face broke into a cruel smile. "Good," he retorted sadistically. "Pain is good. Pain keeps the memory alive."
He tightened his hold on my arm before finally letting go of me. The tears came pouring out as I fell back onto the bed, utterly defeated.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him pull something from his pocket, but I couldn't muster the strength to care.
"Here." He slapped my phone onto the nightstand. "You're free to call anyone, your best friend or even your father, but be mindful about what you say to them. Any slip-up, I'll know."
My face turned away, refusing to meet his gaze.
He wouldn't let it pass, though. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," he demanded, a frosty threat hidden behind his words.
