(Lorraina's POV)

Fully dressed in a luxurious white wedding gown that shimmered like moonlight, I stood still as the stylist made the final touches. The dress screamed elegance,every thread carefully woven, every layer designed to showcase grace and wealth.

My face glittered under the soft lights, with minimal makeup to complement my features. Red lipstick stained my lips like forbidden roses. My hair was pulled into a perfect bun,the exact style that matched the royalty of my gown.

The stylist gently slipped the heels onto my feet, her touch careful, reverent. I stood slowly, now fully dressed. The bride was ready.

But behind the radiant glow on my face, behind the expensive dress and glistening veil, there was pain,deep, consuming pain.The pain that no foundation or red lipstick could ever cover.

I didn’t want this wedding. I didn’t want this marriage.

Whether he was a billionaire or a beggar, I didn’t care. I had no interest in marrying any man. Yet here I was, forced,no, sold—by my own father. He had consented to this alliance with a man I knew absolutely nothing about. Blinded by his selfish desire to expand his business empire, he never once asked how I felt. Never cared whether I was happy or broken.

Ever since I was seven years old, my father changed. He transformed into a monster I couldn’t recognize.

Alongside his cruel wife,my stepmother,they turned my life into a nightmare. He shouted constantly, beat me without mercy, starved me for days. He stripped me of every right I had as a child, reduced me to nothing more than a burden. His burden.

Sometimes I wondered if he was cursed or under a spell, because the man I once knew,the man who used to call me his “angel”,was sweet, kind, and protective. Not the monster he turned to now.

I remember the exact moment he changed. He had returned from work late one evening, drunk and staggering.

“Papa…” I had run to him, excited as always to wrap my small arms around him like I used to. I didn’t expect what came next.

Instead of pulling me into a warm embrace, he shoved me to the cold marble floor with anger in his eyes.

“You bastard!” he roared, the venom in his voice unlike anything I had heard before.

I blinked, confused, still too young to understand. I stood back up, tears stinging my eyes, and gently reached for his hand.

“Papa…” I whispered again.

That was when he dashed me,a harsh slap across my face that echoed louder than thunder.

That was the moment I realized: my father no longer loved me. That night marked the beginning of his hatred for me.

Years later, I learned that in his drunken state, he had muttered something shocking,that my mother had died. But deep down, I knew he was lying. My mother wasn’t dead. She was somewhere out there. And he didn’t want me to find her.

Now, here I stood, about to be handed over like a business contract to a stranger. My heart shattered into pieces as I confronted my father one last time.

"You hate me that much to push me into marriage at my age?" I asked, trembling.

His response came sharp and cold. “Yes. Be grateful I’m setting you free from me. Don’t question my decision.”

Tears filled my eyes, but I held them back.

He hated me. His wife hated me. His daughter,my stepsister,despised me. What was left for me here? Nothing. No reason to stay. No reason to fight.

“Is she not ready?” my stepmother’s shrill voice called from the hallway.

“She’s ready,” the dresser answered.

Together, we left the room.

As we passed my stepmother, she leaned in and hissed, “Now that you're leaving this house, don’t ever come back. Die in your in-laws’ house.”

Her words should have cut deep, but instead they ignited a quiet flame inside me. I stared at her, saying nothing. She was lucky this wedding happened so quickly, or I would’ve given her a taste of her own venom.

With each click of my heels on the marble floor, I walked down the aisle like a queen in exile. The soft melody of the piano played in the background. The wedding hall was exquisite,lavish flowers, golden drapes, and crystal chandeliers casting soft, golden light over the polished floor. It was breathtaking, yet I felt numb.

At the altar, he stood.

Levander Smith.

He turned the moment he heard my footsteps, his hands buried in his pockets. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover,tall, sculpted, dark-haired with sharp features that made him look almost unreal. The sight of him made my heart skip a beat despite myself.

As I reached him, he stretched out his hand.

Hesitantly, I placed mine in his.

From the corner of my eye, I saw my stepmother smiling wickedly. She was pleased. She thought she had won. Now that I was gone, everything,especially the family fortune,would belong to her daughter.

I met her gaze. I smiled. Revenge was an understatement. I was going to ruin her. One day, when I rose in power, I’d come back for everything she took from me.

When it came time to exchange rings, I stared into Levander’s eyes. It was the first time I saw him this close. He was… perfect. Too perfect. And yet, there was something behind those eyes. Something dark.

“Now, Lorraina Blackwood, do you take Levander Smith as your lawfully wedded husband?” the priest asked.

I looked at my father. He was unbothered, seated casually, as if I was a pawn he had just moved on a chessboard. His eyes warned me not to say no.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to defy him, ruin the day he thought he’d win. But then I thought about the beatings. The starvation. The loneliness. This marriage might be the only escape I would ever get.

So I said it.

“Yes, I do,” I declared, loud enough for everyone to hear. Applause filled the hall.

“And you, Levander Smith,” the priest turned to him, “do you take Lorraina Blackwood as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Levander stared at me, and I felt it,that piercing glare. It was like his eyes saw right through me, like they could reach into my soul and tear it apart.

“Yes, I do,” he replied, his voice cold… dark… dangerous.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the—”

The priest didn’t even finish when Levander pulled me sharply into his arms. He crushed his lips against mine in a possessive, punishing kiss. His hand tilted my chin upward, and without hesitation, he forced his tongue into my mouth.

I opened up, shocked… and kissed him back.

Gasps echoed in the hall. Cameras flashed furiously. My stepmother’s jaw dropped. My stepsister scoffed,always jealous, always bitter.

He finally broke the kiss, leaving me breathless, still locked in his arms. He leaned in and whispered something that chilled me to the bone.

“Wifey… this kiss marks the beginning of your ruination. I will destroy you. And through you, your father will pay for every single sin.”

My heart thudded in fear. This wasn’t just a wedding. This was a trap. And I had just walked into it wearing white.

{♡CHAPTER TWO♡}

I wasn't given the chance to talk to anyone—not even a word. Everything about this wedding felt like a setup. A trap, carefully and deliberately laid out just for me.

“You’ll account for your father’s sins.”

His words echoed violently in my heart, pounding like thunder, ringing endlessly in my ears.

Those words were like daggers, piercing deep into my soul. What had I gotten myself into? Why did I feel like a prisoner, dressed in white, walking into my own execution?

I sat beside him in the car, silence wrapping around us like a thick fog. Levander’s eyes stayed glued to his iPad, fingers scrolling, focused, emotionless. His presence felt cold and intimidating. I knew he was a businessman, clearly powerful and ruthless—but what haunted me were the questions flooding my mind like a tornado.

What sins?

Why me?

Why should I suffer for them?

Did he marry me for revenge?

The questions kept spinning, faster and faster, until I thought my head would burst. I turned to the window, closed my eyes, tried to calm my nerves. But it was impossible.

Was I going to die?

Would he kill me?

Did my father know he was sending me into the arms of a man with revenge in his heart?

Of course he knew. And if it benefitted him, he wouldn’t hesitate to hand me over. I sneered bitterly. My father, the man who once celebrated my smile, was now the same man who would sell my soul to the devil for profit.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them back. The joyful moments of my childhood—smiles, laughter, birthday cakes, bedtime stories—all now felt like a dream I was being forced to forget.

Then, I remembered…Today was my birthday.

My twentieth birthday.

I had promised myself that on this day, I’d be celebrating my success in medical college, a step closer to becoming the most renowned doctor in the city. That was the dream I’d held onto with every fiber of my being. But here I was—in a stranger's car, beside a man who had threatened to ruin me, heading to a home that was never mine.

My dream had been shattered—stolen by my father, manipulated by power, and buried under a white wedding dress.

Once, on days like this, my father would pamper me endlessly—he’d bake cakes with me, sing my favorite songs, hold my hand and dance with me. That man was gone, and in his place stood a stranger, cold and monstrous.

This time, I couldn’t hold back the tears. They rolled freely down my cheeks. I had been through so much… and I had no one to tell. No one to hold me. No one to protect me.

No one… except God.

Levander noticed my silent weeping. Without a word, he handed me his handkerchief. I was startled, confused by the sudden kindness. Hesitant, I took it and wiped my tears.

Was this a gesture of comfort—or manipulation?

The car came to a slow stop. Our ride was over.

I stepped out slowly, my heart pounding, my hand still held in his. A colossal mansion stood before me, towering and majestic. A bold sign read:

SMITH MANSION

He took my hand again. I followed him, reluctantly. Why was he being kind now, after threatening me at the altar? The confusion only deepened my fear.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” the workers greeted in unison, bowing politely.

I clutched the edges of my gown tightly, my knuckles turning white.

“Wow…” I whispered under my breath. The mansion was breathtaking—vast, spacious, decorated like a palace from a fairy tale.

The moment we stepped in, confetti rained over us. Cheers erupted. His family was waiting for us. Appearances mattered here.

“Welcome, son,” a woman greeted warmly—his mother. She patted his shoulder affectionately. He kissed her hands, and I noticed how her warm smile faded the moment her eyes landed on me.

She flustered slightly, giving me a calculating look.

“Aurora,” Levander’s father called out, “Please, help them settle in.”

Aurora, his mother, nodded with a faint smile. She gestured coldly. “Come in. Make yourself comfortable.”

The moment Levander dropped my hand, he walked off without a word.

His sister… Her eyes locked with mine. A strange, piercing look. It made my heart skip unevenly. I recognized her. She had been at the engagement.

Her gaze—so sharp, so full of something dark—sent chills down my spine.

Another woman, Levander’s aunt, held her back gently, trying to calm her down. But I saw it clearly—the strangeness, the hatred burning in her eyes. Still, I played along. Pretended not to notice.

“You must be tired. Get some rest,” Aurora said politely, her voice ice-cold despite the fake smile she wore.

I followed a maid quietly as she led me upstairs to my room.

Downstairs, in the sitting room. Aurora and Andrew sat side by side, quiet.

“Mom, you should’ve been harsher on her,” Zinnia—Levander’s sister—muttered bitterly.

“I’m waiting for my son’s signal. Chill…” Aurora replied coolly.

Zinnia’s voice rose. “Levi’s actions are dangerous,I agree. But she deserves to know why he married her!”

“Zee, calm down,” Aurora said gently, placing a hand on her daughter's.

Their father, Andrew, sighed deeply. “I don’t know. This all feels… wrong. The girl—she’s too innocent to be punished like this.”

“I feel that too,” Georgia added softly, one of Levander’s aunts. “She’s beautiful… and so innocent.”

Zinnia rolled her eyes angrily. Her emotions spiraled. She slammed her phone hard against the tiled floor, the crack echoing.

“Hey!” Georgia called out, reaching for her—but Zinnia yanked her arm away.

“She wasn’t just my best friend. She was innocent!" Zinnia screamed. “Laura was innocent! And still, Gabriel raped her. He killed her! And—damn it all!” Her voice cracked, a storm of pain crashing through her.

(Zinnia’s POV)

Tears flooded down my face. My body trembled from the intensity of my emotions. Seeing her—Gabriel’s daughter—brought back everything I tried so hard to bury.

Laura had been my best friend. My shield. The only woman I loved after my mother.

Five years ago, Laura was raped and murdered by Gabriel Blackwood. I watched the video—saw him stab her again and again. It scarred me. It broke my heart into million pieces.

I was in denial for months. When the truth finally hit, I couldn’t breathe.

My brother,filed a case. He fought for her, sought justice. But the system failed us.

Gabriel’s influence ran deep. The case vanished. No conviction. No justice. And he didn’t know Levander was behind the case,or else he would’ve never allowed his daughter to marry into our family.

He made a deal with my brother, a deal to boost his business in exchange for Lorraina’s hand in marriage.

Greedy bastard.

For five years, I stayed awake at night, haunted by Laura’s screams. And now, Gabriel’s daughter walked through the door, innocent or not.

“Zinnia,” my mother whispered gently, pulling me into her embrace. “Your brother knows what he’s doing. Laura’s death won’t be forgotten. Gabriel will pay.”

I sobbed into her chest. “It hurts, Mom. It hurts so much. Levi… he never told Laura how much he loved her. And Gabriel stole her life.”

Levander entered the room. His cold eyes landed on me.

“Stop crying,” he said sharply.

I looked up, face soaked in tears.

“I said, stop your tears. Don’t show emotions. I warned you!” he barked, his voice void of sympathy.

“It hurts, Levi!” I shouted back, voice trembling.

His eyes reddened slightly. I had hit a nerve.

Aurora touched his hand gently. Their father watched silently. Georgia wiped her eyes.

Levander had never loved anyone,except Laura.

“Worry less,” he said finally, voice cold and flat.

“Today marks her ruination.”

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CHAPTER THREE

(Author’s POV)

In the ruthless world of business, news travels fast,but when Levander Smith, the city’s most elusive billionaire, tied the knot, the headlines didn’t just travel,they exploded like wildfire.

Who wouldn't find out?Well, maybe few that didn't know he existed,those few are ten percent.

Levander wasn’t just a name whispered in financial boardrooms. He was a storm—silent, calculating, and dangerously composed. Beneath the gloss of tailored suits and polished charm was a man with blood on his hands. Mafia blood.

He's a billionaire in disguise.

Everyone who mattered knew his name. And even those who didn’t want to know, found themselves forced to.

But there was one person who took the news more personally than anyone else—Lagatha Vales.

The name Lagatha Vales was carved into the very bones of the city. The queen of business. A woman in her late sixties who wore her power like a crown and wielded her wealth like a weapon.

The richest female billionaire in the city, they said—but her billions were just a pretty curtain. Behind it, she was the Queen Mother of the Mafia.

A woman who craved for power, wealth and fame.

And now, she wanted justice.

Not the type the courts offer. Not the kind that spilled blood on the streets. No. Lagatha Vales wanted silent revenge.

Calculated.

Clean.

Cold.

She loves interesting stuff not a minute revenge.

She wanted justice for her daughter—Laura.

Laura had been her first fruit. The daughter who softened her iron heart. Too soft, in fact. So soft Lagatha doubted if the girl was even hers.

She'd forced a DNA test out of paranoia, convinced the hospital had swapped her real daughter for someone else's child. But no. Laura was hers, undeniably so.

And Lagatha had hated that.

"I hate softhearted shit. For once in your damn life, be exactly like your mother and fûck like me!"She used to scream those words at her.

Laura, however, was sunshine in a world ruled by shadows. She treated everyone with kindness—maids, guards, even strangers. Her softness wasn’t weakness; it was strength Lagatha would never understand. And now, that light was gone.

She was raped and stabbed to death. Sad and heartbreaking.

And the city had clue including Smith's family . Not a soul suspected who had truly died or why.

Everyone wondered how someone as ruthless as Lagatha had children. The truth was, she had once been in love.

Desperately.

Tragically.

She had married a man whom she thought was her anchor. She carried his burdens for six years, built his dreams, gave him her body and bore him five children—two sons and three daughters.Two daughters died,so she has one daughter now.

___________

(LAGATHA’S POV)

The throne room was silent, suffocating with tension. I sat with grace, but my presence screamed authority, I'm in charge afterall. My gown—black silk with diamond trimmings—clung to my curves like a lover.

My makeup was flawless; black lipstick glinted beneath the chandelier's light. A gloved hand passed me my pistol,silver, sleek, personal.

Ten politicians sat before me,five on each side of the long mahogany table. None of them dared meet my gaze.

Their faces were pale, drenched in sweat. Eyes darted nervously to the pistol resting on my lap.

Perfect. Exactly what I want to see, the fear in their eyes.

"You all must have received the message," I said, my voice sharp, calm,ice over fire.

They nodded stiffly. The message was simple,easy to understand instantly.

Each of them had received a USB drive. Inside- Their sex tapes. Explicit, unfiltered, undeniable. Men sleeping with men,secret affairs they thought were hidden in the dark.

I found the dark. I owned it.

If leaked, their careers were over. Their families would be disgraced. Their empires would be crushed. And boom everything they have would be ruined.

The silence was thick, but it broke with the click of heels. My eyes turned to the entrance. My sons,Thorfinn and Grey,entered first, followed by my youngest daughter, Krystal.

Ah. My pride. My everything-they're.

A smile tugged at my lips, not from joy, but satisfaction.

Thorfinn, tall and elegant in his tailored wine suit, looked calm as always. He had the face of a romantic and the heart of a tactician,sweet when he wanted to be, deadly when required.

Grey was another beast entirely. Cold. Sharp-jawed. Eyes like frostbite. He rarely smiled,and when he did, it meant death.

And then Krystal, my last daughter,fierce, fearless, flawless. Long black hair swept into a high ponytail, her red heels clicking in rhythm to her mother’s heart. She had my face. And my fire.

"Mother," they bowed in unison.

I nodded, pride swelling in my chest. Yeah they're my children,mine alone not even their late father's.

"The deal was secured," Thorfinn reported, voice smooth, almost musical.

The politicians turned toward them, their fear now layered with confusion.

The message was real,it was,that was the expression they gave her.

"Here's the penalty for your sins," Thorfinn began, face emotionless.

"Fifty billion pounds. Each. Sent to the account attached in the message."

"Or you don’t leave this room alive," Grey added, his voice a dagger laced with venom.

"And your families will be wiped off the map. Quietly. Painfully," Krystal said, stepping forward with a cruel smirk.

None of the men dared speak. Their eyes widened with realization. They weren’t in a boardroom. They were in a den of wolves.

One man finally croaked, voice trembling.

“Y-you can’t... this is blackmail!”

Grey leaned forward slowly to the politician that blurted that, pistol in his hand.

"This is power," He corrected.

"I don't have any money,I won't..pay a single dime"A man said in finality.

Not to waste time he was shot instantly and he went numb. Their eyes widened in shock.

"Of course someone has serve has a scapegoat"Grey muttered,he shot him,his eyes filled with no regret.

The click of the safety going off echoed like a death sentence.

"Now choose,pay… or pray."Krystal said with a deadly smile.

The answer is obvious.

PAY. They would pay,they don't have any choice left.

I'm not just doing this for money, I'm doing it to punish men who aren't satisfied with their wives and look outside for more pleasure.

________

Meanwhile, inside the cold, silent halls of Levander’s mansion,he made his way down the dim corridor—his steps slow, calculated, and heavy with purpose.

He promised his family, especially his sister, he'd punish Gabriel through Lorraina, he'd make Gabriel watch his daughter break piece by piece.

The door creaked open without warning and Lorraina flinched.

Her hands stilled where they were nervously adjusting the hem of the silk nightie,the one his mother had laid out for her earlier. It clung to her body, delicate and almost too revealing, like it was designed to humiliate her rather than cover her.

She turned slowly, her chest rising and falling a little too fast.

Levander stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the handle, the other tucked into the pocket of his black slacks. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, and his face... unreadable. Empty.

As if nothing human lived behind those eyes,he looks dangerous.

She swallowed hard.

“You’re wearing it,” he said quietly, his gaze sweeping over her without a trace of warmth.

A blush crept on her cheeks,she felt it and damn her for blushing to his voice. But it's smooth.

“Good.”

Lorraina forced her voice not to tremble.

“Your… your mother said it was tradition. That I had to.”

He took a slow step in, then another, and closed the door behind him with a soft click that sounded louder than thunder in her ears.

Then she locked eyes with him,as he moved closer to her standing before her.

“Tradition?” he echoed, almost amused.

“You think this is about tradition, Lorraina?”

She stepped back,just once,but caught herself. Her fingers twisted into the fabric of her nightie.

"Such gut you have to look me in the eye"He gritted.

"Is it a crime?"She asked him and he chuckled not to laugh.

Almost immediately,his smile faded and he grabbed her by the neck tightly and roughly pushing her against the wall.

She gasped, holding his hand to break free from him.

Her heart pounded painfully, struggling to catch her breath as he choked her.

"Pl.. please".

“I told you I’d ruin you, Lorraina,” he said, his voice now as cruel as it was calm.

“And I meant every word. You were never a wife to me,Just a vessel. A tool".

《TBC》