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"Stop!" I cry out as one of Alejandro's men punches both Carlos and Javier in the face, causing them to crumple onto the floor, unconscious.
Alejandro narrows his eyes at me, his anger palpable. "I thought I told you not to comment," he sneers. But I can't stay silent any longer. Gathering what little strength remains within me, I rise to my feet, defiance burning in my chest.
"I am going to be your wife," I say firmly, "but I will not be your dog."
With a snarl, Alejandro grabs my chin and roughly marches me back until I am pressed against the cold, unforgiving wall of the warehouse. I try to stand tall, but my body betrays me as it trembles beneath his touch.
"Ah, so you think you're more than a dog?" he spits, his words venomous. "You need to learn your place. By my side, cowering in fear."
"Is that what you want?" I ask, pleading with him to see reason. "A wife who will lead with you, or just some throwaway woman? I know more about my father's business than anyone else. You could use that."
He spits on me again, disgust twisting his handsome features. "You're a stupid woman, only good for fucking. Be quiet." His threat is clear – Carlos and Javier's lives depend on my compliance. "We'll see if they make it to the wedding or not, depending on how well you behave."
Alejandro pushes me harder against the wall, his body pressing into mine. I want to scream, but he clamps a hand over my mouth and nose, making it difficult for me to breathe. His other hand travels down to my panties, rubbing me through the fabric. "Why aren't you wet for me?" he growls.
I struggle not to bite his hand, fear for Carlos and Javier holding me back. Instead, I focus on trying to breathe, every inhale tainted with the scent of death that permeates the warehouse.
"Learn your place," Alejandro whispers harshly in my ear. And as much as I hate to admit it, I know that right now, my place is here – enduring this torment, playing along with his twisted games, all for the sake of those I care about.
His fingers continue to trail over my clothes, every touch making my skin crawl and my breath hitch. His hand moves lower, just about to slide my panties aside when he suddenly stops. A wicked laugh escapes his lips as he leans in close to my ear.
"Ah, such a good little virgin," he purrs, his breath hot and rancid against my skin. "You're so obviously uncomfortable around me. I can't wait to deflower you tomorrow, fuck you so hard and so fast that you bleed, and ensure you never forget it was my dick that took your virginity."
I shudder at his words, clenching my fists tightly at my sides to keep from lashing out. He steps back, grinning maliciously, before he turns me around and smacks my ass with a force that makes me stumble forward. Grabbing my arm roughly, he leads me back to the limo waiting outside the warehouse.
The drive back to where he's keeping me is silent and tense. My mind races with thoughts of Carlos, Javier, and the horrors I've just witnessed. The looming threat of tomorrow weighs heavily on me as the familiar building comes into view.
Alejandro escorts me inside, the door slamming shut behind me as he leaves without another word. Alone at last, I run to the bed, collapsing onto it as a torrent of emotions threatens to overwhelm me.
I want to cry, to let the tears wash away the filth and fear that cling to me, but they won't come. Instead, I lie there, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to find some semblance of strength for the trials that await me tomorrow.
ChapterForty-Three
Ipace nervously in the dressing room, my heart pounding in my chest. The stunning white wedding gown I'm wearing clings to my body like a second skin, its delicate lace overlay cascading down into a dramatic train. The silky fabric feels cool against my heated skin, and I can't help but shudder as it brushes against me. The entire room is overflowing with flowers – roses and hydrangeas in various shades of white and cream, their sweet scent filling the air.
My bouquet rests on a nearby table, a breathtaking arrangement of the same flowers, intertwined with baby's breath and soft greenery. The fragrance of the blooms is intoxicating, yet it does nothing to calm my nerves. I glance at myself in the full-length mirror, taking in my reflection. My hair has been expertly styled into a romantic updo, with loose tendrils framing my face and a few escaping curls cascading down my back.
I'm made up from head to toe, a vision in white, and yet I want to cry. This is everything I dreaded when I lived under my father, and now I've essentially agreed to it. Even worse, I don't know what's going to happen when the wedding night comes. Is Alejandro going to know that I'm not a virgin? Do men even know something like that? Can they feel it? Panic rises within me, and I wish with all my heart that there was someone here with me. But I've been separated from my mother and sister since the first day we were moved to El Lobo's quarters. I don't even know if they'll be at the wedding. I can't imagine getting married without my mother there, even if it is to a man like Alejandro.
Suddenly, there's a knock at the door, and one of El Lobo's guys enters. His appearance is menacing, with dark, cold eyes and a scar running down one side of his face. Just looking at him makes my skin crawl. "Alejandro is ready for you," he says gruffly, his voice void of any emotion.
I steel my nerves and follow him, my heart pounding with each step I take through the elaborate cathedral where the wedding is taking place. It’s one of the largest and oldest cathedrals in Miami and it is breathtaking – its high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes and stained glass windows casting ethereal light onto the polished marble floors. The air is thick with the scent of incense and burning candles, and the faint echo of whispered prayers fills the space.
As we make our way towards the altar, my mind races with fear and doubt, but there's no turning back now. I'm about to become Alejandro Ramirez's wife, whether I want to or not.
The haunting notes of the organ fill the cathedral, making it feel less like a place of worship and more like an eerie tomb. The music sends shivers down my spine as I stand at the threshold, scanning the pews for any sign of my mother. But she's nowhere to be found.
"Who's walking me down the aisle?" I ask El Lobo's henchman, trying to mask the fear in my voice.
"No one," he replies coldly.
Tears well up in my eyes as "Here Comes the Bride" begins to play. I steel myself, straightening my veil and gown, and take a deep breath before starting my slow, measured walk down the aisle.
Each step feels like a mile, my legs shaking beneath the weight of my decision. I try to focus on the delicate lace of my dress, how it clings to my body like a second skin, but all I can think about is the sea of unfamiliar faces staring back at me. El Lobo's men leer at me with undisguised lust, their eyes raking over my trembling form.
I wish it were Giovanni waiting for me at the end of this aisle, but wishing won't change anything. I need to go through with this – for my family's sake.
"Deep breaths," I tell myself as I continue my march towards the altar, trying to ignore the nauseating sensation that claws at my insides. My chest tightens with every step, and I struggle to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.
