Prologue

With a dazzling smile and gorgeous eyes, alluring words and charming style, he was no prince charming.

He was the monster who ruled my life. 

With a beautiful gown and sparkling gems, kind words and loving smile, I was no lucky lady who loved her life.

I was his puppet in the name of wife.

***

"Are you all right?" asked Mom.

My mind screamed. My heart cried.

No, mom, I'm not at all right. Ace tortures me. I'm bruised. I'm hurting. Please save me.

"Of course, I'm fine. Why do you keep asking that?" I snapped. "You're acting weird."

I'm sorry, mom, I'm so sorry. If I don't push you away from me, he will not hesitate to carry out his threat.

"When did you become this rude? I'm just worried about you," she said, hurt flashing across her eyes.

You're not worrying without reason, Mom.

"Then leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you," I said, frowning at her.

Her shoulders dropped. With a crestfallen face, she gave me a long look and then reluctantly walked away.

No, please don't go. Please take me with you. Please don't let me go back with him. He will kill me.

I tightened my grip on the juice glass that I had been holding since the start of the party. It was barely touched.

A cold chill went up my spine and the hair at the back of my neck stood up when I felt a presence behind me. The familiar cologne made my stomach churn and my heart clench.

"Why does my wife seem so restless?" he whispered into my ear.

"I-I…" I felt my throat constricting.

He appeared beside me, his arm encircling my waist. "Smile, Dalia. People are noticing."

"Sorry," I said, trying not to look at him.

He smiled at me. "You will be sorry tonight, darling. I'll make sure of it."

He removed his hand from my waist and gripped my free hand with it. His fingers dug into my skin.

"Ace, p-please," I said, trying to free my hand. His grip was too tight. "You're crushing my fingers. Please. It hurts."

He let my hand go and I immediately brought it close to my chest, blowing on it soothingly.

"Smile," he said, "I'm watching you. Don't forget that you still have to go home with me."

He walked away, leaving me rooted to my spot. I realized that I was shaking all over, so I sat down on the nearest chair and took a deep breath. There was fear clawing at my gut, and pain radiating from the wounds he had given me in the morning, but I put on a smile and nodded at the people I recognized.

There is no one who can save me from this hell.

What am I supposed to do?

Is escaping from him even possible?