The wedding Night
Sienna
The silk sheets are cold under me, the darkness swallowing everything. His cologne, spicy, expensive,fills the air before he even touches me. My parents signed the papers. Sent me here. A husband I’ve never seen. A wedding night I didn’t choose.
The door creaks open, and I hear heavy footsteps. My breath catches.
“Don’t move.” His voice scrapes over me like gravel.
The bed dips. Calloused hands slide up my thighs, pushing my nightgown higher. I gasp when his fingers find me—bare, wet with fear.
“Pure,” he murmurs, pleased. “Just like they promised.”
No kiss, no warning. He flips me onto my stomach, yanks my hips up, and slams inside me in one brutal thrust. Pain tears through me. I bite back a scream.
“Tight,” he growls, fingers digging into my waist. “So fucking tight.” He fucks me like he’s punishing someone. Like I’m something stolen. Tears burn my cheeks, soaking the pillow.
When he comes, his hips jerk, his breath hot on my neck. “Oh, fuck, Lena.”
My stomach drops, and I shove back, twisting to face him. “Who did you just call me?”
The darkness hides his face. His silence is worse than words. Why would my husband call me by my sister’s name? What the fuck is going on here?
Then light floods the room, and then I see him, my sister’s fiancé, staring down at me like I’m the one who betrayed him, like I was a sin. I have a lot of questions in my head. Why is he here? This man is supposed to be married to my sister in 3 days.
The overhead light burns my eyes. His face, sharp angles, and cold fury twist in recognition.
“You.” His voice is venom.
I scramble back, clutching the sheets to my chest. My thighs ache, sticky with blood and him.
“You knew,” he snarls.
’Knew what?′ I screamed in my head, but the words wouldn’t come out because I am still shocked.
What was he doing here? How did I end up losing my virginity to my sister’s fiancé? Did my parents do this? Why would they do this to me? This is going to cause a feud between Lena and me.
“You fucking knew.”
I shake my head, but he lunges forward, gripping my wrist hard enough to bruise.
“Don’t lie to me.” His breath smells like whiskey and rage. “Your parents set this up. You wanted me—”
“No!” The word tears from my throat. “I didn’t, I swear, I didn’t know it was you!”
His grip tightens. “Bullshit.”
The door bursts open, and Lena stands there, still in her bachelorette party dress, makeup smudged. Her gaze darts between us, his naked body, my tear-streaked face, and the blood on the sheets.
Her scream is raw. “You bitch!” She launches at me, nails raking down my arm. “You stole him!”
I barely block her next swing. “Lena, listen—”
“Get out!” she shrieks. “Get out of my house!
The man, my husband, I mean, her fiancé. He grabs her waist, pulling her back. His touch is gentle. The way he never touched me.
“Lena, baby, calm down.” She whirls on him.
“You fucked her!”
His jaw clenches. “I thought she was you.”
The words gut me. I felt useless, how worse can I feel right now, huh? I just slept with my sister’s fiance.
Lena sobs, collapsing against him. He holds her, stroking her hair, murmuring words I can’t hear.
I stand on shaking legs, my kitty still sore from the sex. I grabbing my torn nightgown.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he snaps.
I don’t answer; I just walk out, because what can I say? that I was set up? They wouldn’t believe me; to them, I was the woman who ruined their union. The hallway is long and dark. My legs tremble with every step.
A door slams behind me, and I can hear heavy footsteps following me.
“You don’t get to run.” He grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. “We’re married.”
“An accident,” I whisper.
His laugh is cruel. “Contracts don’t care about accidents.”
“Then divorce me.”
His fingers dig into my skin. I felt the pain. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t because, trust me, the worst had already happened.
“No. No divorce.”
My eyes went wide. “Why?”
“Because,” he leans in, lips brushing my ear, “I don’t let liars walk away.”
I jerk back. “I didn’t lie!”
“You exist.” His voice drops. “And now, you’ll pay for it.”
He drags me down the hall, not to his room, not to mine. A third door. It was locked, and he shoved me inside. The room is bare—just a bed and a window barred with iron.
“You’ll stay here,” he says. “Until I decide what to do with you.”
The lock clicks. I sink to the floor, pressing my forehead to the cold wood. Outside, my sister Lena wails. And he comforts her. “She did this, babe. I will never look at her that way, you know that. She’s too plain for me.” He says, I didn’t cry. I had no tears; I was just tired of everything. But the bigger question is, why did my parents do this to me and my sister? How am I going to look at my little sister again? She hates me by now; I ruined her, and she has every right to hate me.
