...VALENTINA SIERRA...
The wedding day arrived, and I cried all week because I wasn't God to be able to stop the damn time that was accelerating towards my condemnation and tying my life to this human being whom I detest so much.
The beautiful dress that the housekeeper brought me didn't excite me. I looked like a stupid fairy tale princess, but instead of having a romance story, mine was a horror story, and the prince, instead of making her happy, terrified her.
Putting on the bride's attire was an injection of reality into my brutal present. All of this bothered me greatly. My parents did not accompany me on the big day, nor did my siblings.
In the immense garden of this cursed property that has become my prison, the stupid union takes place, which instead of being out of love, is due to the drug, the drug of violation that someone forced upon me.
Whoever is supposed to be my husband threatened me before getting dressed and told me that there would be some invited guests, that we should keep up appearances, including his relatives. I know Ivan will be present, and that hurts. I feel like my heart has been stabbed a thousand times every day, but this time, it seems determined to end me and any trace of feeling I might have.
This wasn't how I dreamed of my destiny that night when everything went wrong.
The dress must have cost a fortune, I hate it and I want to tear it off my body.
Carefully descending the stairs, trying not to kill myself because it weighs a ton and I'm wearing heels that make me about ten centimeters taller, I find my father and look at him hoping he'll repent and rescue me from here, but he looks at me sternly.
"Hurry up, Dorian is waiting for you," he said, gripping my arm with his.
"Dad, please," I pleaded in a broken voice.
"You should have kept your legs closed. You should be ashamed. Be grateful that we managed to make Dorian accept you after dating his nephew. You are the disgrace of the Sierra family," his voice is cold, and his eyes even colder. He doesn't seem like my father.
I know that at first glance everything looks bad, but they had to believe in me. Nobody believed me, not even the demon I'm about to marry, but at least he found out something about what happened. My family didn't even do that.
We walked, and I dared not lift my gaze, ashamed, I focused on the ground.
"It's yours," my father said as he left me with the demon, who took my hand, which felt icy even though the weather was warm.
The ceremony begins, and I want to cry from anger, sadness, helplessness, and destroy this place to alleviate the damn pain that burns in my chest.
I couldn't hear a word until I felt a squeeze in my hand, reminding me that I had to say, "I do." How can a six-letter word be so difficult to pronounce?
The demon spins me around and, lifting my head, he holds my face and forcefully presses his mouth against mine. He doesn't deepen the kiss, just separates immediately, and that's it.
He smiles, but his eyes show the anger he feels because he doesn't want this any more than I do. My parents appear happy, my siblings turn their faces away, and Ivan stares at me intently. My two friends are here and they approach me when I'm left alone. I thought they would at least support me, but I know I was wrong.
"Well, what do we have here? A clever little whore hiding behind an angelic face," I can't believe it when I hear Alison's voice.
"The quiet ones are the worst. She slept with the uncle because he has more money, and she fooled him into marrying her," Carla laughs louder.
"You know I didn't do it," I mention in pain, but they laugh even more.
"Now that you're with the uncle, maybe you can console the nephew. They say he's well-endowed," Alison mocks me.
"I heard he's quite the stud. I'd lend him my body too to ease the pain," the other one I considered my friend continues.
I distance myself from them before causing a scene that would further ruin the image of the two of us. I want to cry, my life is over, and there's no point in continuing, but first, I will find the person responsible for all this and make them pay.
"You don't look happy," Dorian quickly takes me to a corner and looks at me threateningly.
"Neither do you," I respond, breaking free from his grasp.
"At least I pretend, but you don't even do that," I know he's right, but I'm not an actress.
"Is Ivan here?" I glance over and see my friends hanging onto each of his arms, just like I used to do sometimes.
"If you cheat on me with my nephew, your life won't be long enough to regret it," he threatens me.
We return to the celebration of our misery, at least pretending to be two stupid people who tolerate each other and smile because it's easy and there's no alternative.
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