Chapter 3 Your Father Is Dead

Vanessa POV's I ran to the door and locked it quickly, securing the key. The dress—a silky navy-blue gown—hung in the wardrobe, and a sudden idea came to me. If there was no dress, then there would be no party, and if there was no party, then I could go home! I grabbed a pair of scissors from the bathroom and shredded the dress until it was beyond repair. Satisfied, I climbed into bed and drifted into sleep, but I was woken by a harsh sound. As my vision cleared, I gasped in shock to find Gnero standing by my bed, a large hole torn through my door. His eyes were cold and angry. “What the hell!” I exclaimed, half frightened, half furious. “I don’t like games, Nessa,” he said, his voice calm in contrast to the storm in his eyes. “No, you just like to break down someone else’s door,” I spat, and he crossed the room to meet me. “You have ten minutes to get dressed, or I will take you over my knee, spank that ass so hard till my palm is imprinted on it, swing you over my shoulder with your bare ass, and take you downstairs to the party. Either way, you’re coming with me. So choose, cupcake,” he said, and despite my anger, the idea of his hands on my ass sent a shiver down my spine. I unknowingly clenched my thighs together, and he noticed. Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, and I crossed my arms, my breasts jiggling with the movement. “I can’t,” I said, my voice defiant, and he raised an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?” he asked, his eyes following my gaze to the bed, where the shredded dress lay in tatters. He moved past me, picking up the ruined fabric. “Do you realize how much this dress costs?” he asked coolly. “You’re rich. You’ll get another one,” I retorted, bratty and unyielding. “Wrong,” he said, grabbing my forearm. “You’re going to wear this, your own design.” “It’s destroyed and impossible to wear," I snapped, pulling my arm free. His grip was strong, but I refused to show weakness. Gnero let out a low, growl. "You underestimate me, Nessa. I can make anything happen." He stepped closer, his presence suffocating as he loomed over me. His voice dropped to a whisper, sending a chill down my spine. "But you're right about one thing. The party can wait." His hand moved swiftly, grabbing the torn dress and tossing it aside. My heart pounded in my chest as I backed away, the bed hitting the back of my knees. "You're not wearing that dress tonight," he stated, his eyes dark and unreadable. "But don't think for a second that you've won." I tried to hold onto my defiance, but the intensity in his gaze made it hard to breathe. "What are you planning, Gnero?" My voice came out shakier than I intended. A smirk curled on his lips as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black phone. He pressed a few buttons, and within seconds, there was a knock at the door—what was left of it, anyway. Two women entered, their eyes downcast, holding a garment bag between them. Without a word, they approached the bed and unzipped the bag, revealing an even more exquisite gown than the one I had just destroyed. It was a deep crimson, the color of blood, with intricate lace details and a plunging neckline. It screamed power, and I hated how beautiful it was. Gnero's eyes never left mine as he spoke to the women. "Help her get dressed. I'll be waiting downstairs. She has five minutes." With that, he turned and left the room, his departure as sudden as his arrival. I stood frozen, my mind racing. The two women began to approach me cautiously, and I waved them off. "I can do it myself," I snapped. They hesitated but nodded, stepping back as I took the dress from the bed. As I slipped into the gown, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation bearing down on me. Gnero was relentless, and every move I made seemed to push me further into his web. But I couldn't let him break me. I had to stay strong, find a way out of this nightmare. The dress fit like a second skin, hugging my curves in all the right places. I hated how it made me feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time. The deep red fabric contrasted sharply with my pale skin, making me look like a queen ready for battle. With a final glance in the mirror, I steeled myself for what was to come. Gnero had won this round, but I wouldn't let him control me, no matter how much he tried . I made my way downstairs, each step echoing in the empty hallway. The house was eerily silent, the usual noise of servants and guards absent. It felt like I was walking into a trap, but I had no choice. I had to face him, even if it meant playing by his rules for now. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Gnero was waiting for me, a glass of dark liquor in his hand. He looked up as I approached, his eyes raking over me with approval. "You look stunning," he said, his voice low and smooth. "The color suits you." I ignored the compliment, my jaw clenched. "Let's get this over with." He smirked, clearly enjoying my resistance. "The party is just the beginning, Nessa. You and I have a long day ahead.." As he extended his hand towards me, I hesitated for just a moment before taking it. His grip was firm, and as he led me towards the double doors at the end of the hall, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into a battle that would test every source f strength I had. But one thing was certain—I wouldn't go down without a fight, that was until the doors opened and I saw no trace of my family and instead I saw more unfamiliar looking faces all looking grim. Gnero left the comfort of my arms and went to the men, they stood still all gathered and whispering to each other and a feeling of doom set in. Gnero came to me, his face carrying a grim expression that suddenly alarmed me. “Is my father on his way?” I asked “We need to talk,” He said and held my hand , taking me to a corner but I could feel people staring at me intently. “Is it the dress or what? “I asked saucily then rolled my eyes impatiently. “When are they coming?” I asked again concerning my family but Gnero’s lips were pressed in a thin line andsuddenly my heart felt very heavy. “I’m afraid, your family wont be coming,” he said slowly and somehow I thought there was a message attached to the sentence. “They’ve been in an accident, your father is dead,” he said.