Chapter 5 I'm Not Interested In An Unwilling Participant

"Tonight? That's impossible. I just arrived. I can't get married without any proper planning—I don’t even know anything about my groom!" I yelped. Helena rolled her eyes. "You don’t need to know anything about him. You have the rest of your life to figure it out. Now, get up—we have less than an hour to get you ready for the ceremony." I stayed frozen on the bed, struggling to process what was happening. But Helena didn’t wait for me to catch up. She grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet, ripping the towel off me without hesitation. It felt like I wasn’t even there—just a body for her to dress. While I was still trying to grasp the sudden shift in my life, Helena was already working like a machine, transforming me into the perfect bride. I didn’t even register how I ended up in a mermaid-tail wedding gown that fit as if it had been tailored just for me. She didn’t stop there. She sat me down and combed through my wild hair, her skilled hands taming my curls into something sleek. Then, she applied makeup, turning me into someone else entirely—someone who looked like she belonged at a wedding, not like she was being forced into one. "Alright, you're ready." She smacked her hands together like a proud mother, her gaze raking over me in approval. A knock sounded at the door, and Helena moved to answer it. "It’s time," a male voice announced. I couldn’t see who it was because I was too focused on my reflection in the mirror. I felt like I was walking toward my own death. My legs were heavy with fear, and my body ached as if every step were too much. "Don't worry, she's ready," Helena responded before shutting the door. She turned back to me. "It’s time to go." She pulled me to my feet, snapping me back to reality. "Please, don’t make me do this. I don’t know this man. Please." My voice wavered, tears threatening to spill. Helena pursed her lips. "There’s nothing I can do. The boss chose you, and he’s the only one who can release you. Just do your duty, and everything will be fine." My heart sank. I was really being forced to marry a man I didn’t know. We left the room—Helena walking briskly while I trudged behind her, the heavy gown weighing me down. Each step felt like I was being led to my own funeral. The moment we entered the hall, I realized where we were headed. The living room had been transformed. White silk draped the walls, candles flickered everywhere, and the air smelled of roses and something far too heavy. The room was filled with about twenty men and only three women, making me feel less like a bride and more like an object on display. Helena coughed loudly, drawing everyone's attention. The pianist began to play the familiar wedding march. At the makeshift podium, the man I was about to marry stood next to the officiating priest. Dressed in a charcoal-black suit that matched his dark hair, he looked regal. If I weren’t being forced into this, he wouldn’t have been a bad choice for a husband. "Let’s go, girl. Chin up, small smile—try to look like you belong here. That’s the only way you’ll survive." For the first time since I met Helena, her voice softened, almost as if she were comforting me. I had no choice but to move. When we reached the altar, she handed me over to Alessio. He took my hand, and I felt the rough callouses on his palm. This was a man who had lived a hard life. The minister began speaking, but I barely heard a word. I kept staring at the wall, numb. At some point, the vows came. Did I even respond? I doubted my participation mattered. Alessio didn’t care if I said "I do" or not—his decision was enough for both of us. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." The statement jolted me back to reality. I whipped my head toward Alessio—there was no way I was kissing this man. A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. He wasn’t someone to be defied. I shook my head and tried to step back, but he caught my arm, pulling me in. He wrapped one hand around my waist and cupped my chin with the other. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the kiss—but what happened next was unexpected. Alessio’s thumb brushed over my lips, and instead of kissing me, he pressed a soft kiss to his own thumb. Then, he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "You can open your eyes now. I’m not interested in an unwilling participant." The guests cheered, oblivious to the manipulation. They were fooled, and I hated myself for playing along. Alessio tightened his grip on my waist for a second before letting go. I stood frozen, struggling to reconcile what had just happened. The minister reintroduced us to the crowd as husband and wife, and the guests cheered again. After the ceremony, a few guests came forward to congratulate us. I forced a smile and zoned out. I didn’t care about them—I just wanted to get out of there. Once the crowd dispersed, Alessio led me upstairs. He opened the door to a different room from the one I had been in. I stepped inside and caught a whiff of his scent. This was his room. "What am I doing here?" I asked. Alessio ignored me, closing the door before beginning to undress. "Alessio, what am I doing here? I want to go back to my old room—no, I want to leave. I did what you asked. I married you. I’ve done my part." Alessio lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "Leave? You really think you can leave? You’re not going anywhere. You’re my wife. Better get used to it." My jaw clenched. I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me. Not now. Not ever. As he stepped into the bathroom, I knew this was my chance. I had to escape. Without hesitation, I kicked off my shoes, rolled up my gown, and tied the train around my thighs. The material was heavy, but I needed to move quickly. I tiptoed to the door, opening it silently. I made it downstairs, barely breathing. The front door was unlocked. Stepping outside, I was surprised I had made it this far. It was dark—good. I sprinted toward the gate, heart pounding in my chest. I reached for it— Then, a chill ran down my spine Someone was behind me. "Going somewhere?"