This chapter is French to English
(Dominique - Amille)
English to French
(Amille - Dominique)
"I, Dominique Carbone, take you, Amelie Cromwell, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse,
for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; till death separates us."
"I, Amile Cromwell, take you, Dominique Carbone, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; till death separates us."
"You may now kiss the bride." The vicar says, to Dominique, in French.
He pulled her close, lowering his lips to hers pressing them hard onto hers, kissing her roughly slipping his tongue in.
That was the worst day of her life; she never wanted to marry Dominique Carbone ever, he’d blackmailed her into it. He’d blackmailed her parents into giving her up to him. Her father had a huge debt to pay off to this French Mafia man, what the hell was he even thinking about dealing with the Mafia? He was lucky he wasn’t dead, lucky they all weren’t dead.
These guys were ruthless she’s even it first-hand someone she had never suspected been involved with them was Beau and boy had she been wrong, he’d made her believe he was a new student and she’d volunteered to show him around her school, even got to know him then she’d found out it was all just a ploy to kidnap her.
Now she deeply regretted the day she’d befriended him.
Her parents weren’t too pleased about Dominique’s decision to marry their only daughter as payment for his idiocy.
He’d made sure she had nowhere to run, made sure she’d turned up for the ceremony that she didn’t want any part in. Now she was stuck with him for the rest of her life, being miserable with the French Mafia king.
He pulled away from her. "Come on sweetheart we still have the reception to attend then we can be all alone."
She swallowed, she felt so sick right now.
He slipped his arm around her gripping her waist making sure that she wouldn’t run from him ever.
Their reception was full, he introduced her to everyone there before they had their first dance, and cut the cake. ate and drank. She wasn’t looking forward to spending tonight with him.
She’d always had her room up until now, but now it was required to be married to him. She felt queasy and lethargic, she’d hardly eaten and drank so much she could hardly stand.
She made it into the room they were sharing, going into the bathroom and throwing up several times. Had she caught a bug or something?
She felt so drained. The door closed. "Are you okay my flower?"
"Don't flower me! You knew I didn’t want this, but still, you insisted."
"Would you rather your parents be dead?"
She looked at him nervously.
"I thought not." He stepped forward, she stepped back, and he grabbed her wrist pulling her to him. "You can’t escape me Amile I won’t ever let you."
She stood nervously as he leaned down brushing his lips against hers, kissing her. He leaned down kissing her neck. "You’re mine now Amile so you best get used to it, 'cause you’re never going back and you’ll never escape me. If you do I will find you." He said, continuing to kiss her neck.
She swallowed hard. She didn’t want this, she wanted out of here, out of France, him out of her life forever, why did her father have to do business with the likes of this man?