Threats and vows | 01

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The makeup artist puts the shade of lipstick he deemed best for my skin tone.

My hair was done to perfection by the hairstylist. I pick up a mirror looking at the woman it showed.
That wasn't me, none of this is me.

I'm only doing this for you baba.

My father dealt in oil and gold, but that was just his legal front. I wasn't aware of what he did until he struggled to take breaths.

Drugs, exploitation, weaponry.
That was what my father was involved in.
Of all fucking things.

To think that a man who went to church as if it held his life, a man who couldn't be caught too far from a bible, a man who had a crucifix on everything was involved in the things that pulled apart the fabric of the world.

And mama knew, the secret took her to an early grave.

God would be disappointed in him, I am disappointed in him.
I get fit into the dress. A backless slit thigh dress with a train. The fabric was too smooth, the best silk they could find.
I touch it before the assistants strip me out of my robe and help me put it on.

The scent experts layer my perfumes and leave me a refill bottle in the invisible pocket my dress had.
I'm passed the bouquet of white roses.

"A gift from your husband." The lady tells.
I look at them. "They're lovely." I say. He had a good eye.

The centre of the roses had a diamond in it and they were light weight, I haven't done a chore in my entire life so this was good.

"Another gift." I'm brought wedding shoes and beautiful jewellery.
He had a better eye than i did.
These were custom made. I just bought the Jimmy Choo's with the ribbon.
The veil is put over my head, but I can't help but wonder what type of man i was about to go and sign my life over to.

No one had anything good to say about him.

'He's a terrible soul.'
'God have mercy on whoever decides to keep him close....'
'The most selfish bastard I've ever met.'
'Entitled cunt.'

That was the summary of all i knew of him.
What if he was ugly?
What if he forces himself on me?
What if he hits me?

I shiver at the last, terrified of the notion.
I wait for them to open the doors to the cathedral, i hear the organ over the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears.

It's blindingly bright and it takes a moment to get used to it. My father's assistant walks me down the aisle.
I sneak glances at the guests, i don't know a single soul here. My stomach churns, I didn't even know the bridesmaids.
I wasn't allowed to keep friends as a child, my constant moving being a factor to my lack of companions.

Mr Xander gives me away. From the veil i feel his cold icy eyes. When i dared look up, i see nothing but disdain, scorn and pity.
He didn't seem pleased to see me.

I don't want to be here either dipshit.
We say our vows, both he and I pledging before God and man.

He unveils me and puts the ring on my finger.
It's heavy, way too big but it looks nice as well.
My hands were small compared to his, when it came my turn to put a ring around his, i was sure a single finger of his equated to one and half of mine.

"You may now-." The priest shuts up at a deadly glare sent to him by my now husband.

................

The reception went on without a hitch, I tried speaking to him all to no avail, he had nothing to discuss with me were his first and only words I heard from him were:

'Do not speak to me, i have nothing to discuss with you.' And we continued on with our dance.
Despite the heels I measured nothing to him.

When we went back to prepare for an after party at the hotel, he had to duck past my room door. The man stood at a staggering 6'11.
That was very a inhumane height but his body mass balanced it out.

I strip out of the fabric and begin to put on my mini dress for the after party and business meeting we would have concerning my father's will.
I try to zip up my dress, suddenly regretting that i asked everyone to leave me.
I feel a pair of cold hands on my back and i jump.

"What the-." I hold onto the slipping fabric.
"It's not lady like to curse." He scolds.
"When did you get in?"
"Just now," He turns me around by my arm. "So if you don't mind, you're delaying us."

He zips up my dress and i watch him leave. He ducks past the door post and goes on his merry way. I put on the shoes and follow behind him.

He gets into the car and shuts the door, I make to go open it but one of the bridesmaids i hired open it instead.

'Thank you.' I mouth to her.
I sit beside the bastard, feeling uneasy.

"Let me lay down some ground rules;" He begins.
"Do not on any occasion expect intimacy from me,
Do not expect to see me as you wish. Your old man left quite a shit trail and left me to care of it including his incompetent daughter."

My chest tightens at the second one.
"But he purposely-." I interject only to be cut off.
"Do not speak over me." He lays out coolly.
"We will have dinners together on Sundays, i hope you have proper table manners."

I feel like a woman in the 1400's. I had no say nor any power.

"And lastly, do not on any occasion use terms of endearment. To you i am strictly Mr Lomonosov and to me you are strictly Eliana."

I have to hold back tears, i feel shattered.

"I was hoping you were nothing like they said but I'm sure they left out one thing too." I clutch the fabric of my dress.

He looks down at me.

"That you were a fucking misogynist. You must have your head in wrapped the fucking clouds if you think i would sleep with you. I'd sooner electrocute myself."

There is a thick silence as i feel him glaring daggers at my head. If he wanted trouble, i had plenty to share.

I was my father's daughter and my mother's love, I was going to prove to baba that he had not a weakling for a daughter.

Third person P.O.V.

They step out of the car, unbeknownst to the other, secret threats had been made.

For Mr Lomonosov to make her pay for the sins of her father,
For our dear Eliana to make his plans and life all nothing but a miserable 'point and fail.'

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