MARRIED FOR PROTECTION

MARRIED FOR PROTECTION

Episode 1

...ALANA...

What happens when you are the daughter of an important businessman and his mistress? Believe me when I say that it's not a good situation. My mother got pregnant by a powerful businessman, and four years after giving birth to me, my grandfather gave her a lot of money in exchange for me. She wanted to sell me to anyone with money, and my grandfather agreed to give her the money. Then he took me to my father's house, where he lived with his wife and daughter, my older sister. He said that men in our family take care of their children, regardless of who the mother is. So he forced his son and his wife to accept me into their home as their daughter. In front of my grandfather, everything seemed loving, but when he left, I was beaten and mistreated. I wasn't allowed to sit at the table with them; I was treated worse than the house staff. At the age of five, I had to start preparing my own meals. Do you know how many times I burned or cut myself? There were many times I went to bed without eating because I didn't know how to cook. The lady of the house would threaten to fire any employee who helped me. I have a small room next to my sister's, with only an old bed and a small closet filled with dresses previously worn by my sister. The owners of the house say that I am worth nothing to earn money, so when I turned fifteen, I found a small job as an assistant in a café. The pay is not much since I'm underage, but it helps me save money for when I'm of legal age and can live on my own. My grandfather visits once a month, and that day is the happiest for me because I can sit next to him at the table. They serve us food, and we get to eat dessert, something they don't allow me to have when he's not around.

My relationship with my sister is non-existent. I'm forbidden to talk or get close to her. If, for some reason, we come face to face in the house, I have to quickly move away. She has never done anything to me, I suppose she just wants to obey her mother and not make her angry. When I was six and she was seven, she gave me a piece of her chocolate cake, and her mother punished her. I guess she had no choice but to do what her mother told her.

As for my father, I don't even know if I can call him that. We never talk, and he never even looks me in the eyes, which are the same as my mother's. I suppose I remind him of his mistakes. The only time he touched me wasn't a loving gesture. When I was ten, I saw the piano in the house and it caught my attention. I always wanted to play it but was too afraid. One day, I gave in to the temptation and played it, but it was not a good idea. My father gave me a severe beating and screamed that he would never allow me to touch the piano because I would surely become a whore like my mother. It seemed she used to play the piano. After leaving bruises all over my body and spending a month unable to move due to the pain, that man who claims to be my father never spoke to me or looked at me ever again. And I never went near the piano again. It just stood there as another decoration because nobody played it.

"Get changed, you bastard. Your grandfather is coming for breakfast," says the woman whom I am forced to call mother.

- Yes\, ma'am\," I said\, feeling happy as I changed because I would see my grandfather\, the only person who cared about me. I put on a simple and comfortable dress. Unlike my sister\, who has tons of makeup\, I don't wear much. I only have a second-hand lip gloss and a bit of blush for my pale cheeks. My skin is very fair\, and my eyes are hazel. My hair is black\, and I'm not tall but not too short either; I measure 1.65 meters. My body has developed nicely\, although my breasts are still a bit small. But I have good legs\, a small waist\, and a stunning backside\, as my friend Carmen\, the only friend I have to confess\, says. I met her at school\, and she is the other person\, besides my grandfather\, who cares about what happens to me. Although she's a bit crazy\, she's a very good friend.

- "He's almost here\," Lucrecia\, my father Fabián's wife\, said.

I didn't say anything; I just sat and waited when the doorbell rang. A smile appeared on my face; I thought it was him, but it wasn't.

- "Who are you?" my father Fabián\, the man who created me\, asked.

- "I am Mr. Vicente Rodríguez's lawyer. I am Attorney Julio García\," the stranger replied.

- "And what are you doing here? Why didn't my father-in-law come?" the witch asked.

- "Mr. Rodríguez sent me for his granddaughter\, Alana. He is at the hospital\, dying\, and he doesn't want to leave without talking to his granddaughter\," the man said\, and my tears started flowing.

- "That's not true! My grandfather can't die\," I said\, crying.

"There is nothing untrue about that. Now, if you could please accompany me, I would appreciate it. Your grandfather wants to say goodbye," the man said.

I went with the lawyer in his car. Fabián, Lucrecia, and Lucía followed us in their car. I could only ask goodbye, not to take my grandfather away, the only person who mattered to me in the world, the one who has given everything for me. Crying, we arrived at the hospital. The lawyer took me to a room in the intensive care area, and there he was, my grandfather, with his eyes closed, looking very tired. I didn't know what to do or say. I simply approached and sat by his side, holding his hand. The lawyer told me not to worry and that I could stay as long as I wanted, with no one else entering the room. Those were my grandpa's orders.

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Comments

Nïñí

Nïñí

😘😘😘

2024-01-23

0

Zayxx

Zayxx

try to write a fair yet brown skin tone because not many people have fair skin tone anyways love it hun bun ❤️

2023-12-12

2

Ween Zu

Ween Zu

k

2023-12-10

0

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