Chapter 5 A Fate I Couldn’t Escape
I still can't believe this is my life. One minute I was searching for my real parents and the next, I witnessed a tragic death, and now a mafia king wants to marry me.
As I keep thinking, my mind is flooded with so many thoughts, one of which I can’t comprehend. I didn’t even notice when the car pulled over until the driver called out to me. My attention shifted to him, and I paid him before climbing out of the car.
I walked toward the house, fully aware that the moment Fiona and Richard see me, they’re going to bombard me with a million questions, and I probably won’t have answers to any of them. I stepped quietly into the house and headed toward the stairs, hoping to sneak into my room and pretend I’d been there all along. But just as I reached the stairs, Fiona’s voice stopped me in my tracks: "Where do you think you’re going, young lady?"
My heart dropped at the angry tone of her voice. I turned to face her furious expression, and just then, Richard walked in, looking mad too. "I’m very disappointed in you, Nala," he said shaking his head. Before I could even respond, Fiona exclaimed, "Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea how worried we were?"
I was about to apologize when Fiona cut in again, her voice sharp with frustration. "I am so mad at you right now. I know you’re not in good shape and have a lot of questions about your parents, but we are your parents too, and you have to listen to us. Do you understand me?"
I glanced at her, then at Richard, feeling not knowing what to say, I dropped the bomb on them, "I’m getting married."
Richard’s eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "What?"
Fiona looked at me, her confusion evident. "What did you just say?"
"I said I’m getting married," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.
"This is not a good time to joke, Nala," Fiona said, her tone serious.
"I’m not joking; I’m serious. I’m getting married," I insisted
"To who?" Fiona pressed, her brow furrowing deeper.
I hesitated, weighing my options. I didn’t want them to worry about me but at the same I needed to tell them something so I said. "Someone, he’s a nice person," I finally said, choosing my words carefully.
"Nala, you don’t know anyone! So where did you meet this guy, and why did you conclude that you’re going to marry him?" she asked, her voice rising with concern.
"I didn’t conclude; he did. He wants to marry me," I explained
"And so you agreed or what?" Fiona shot back, clearly struggling to process everything.
"Yes, I did." I lied, knowing full well that if I tell to Fiona and Richard the truth, they'd want to press charges, and that would only complicate everything, especially since Carlos controls the authorities
"Hold on a second," Richard interjected, his brow furrowing with concern. "Who is this guy? And how long have you known him?"
"I met him yesterday," I replied, trying to sound casual.
"You met him yesterday and suddenly you want to marry him?" Richard asked, his disbelief palpable.
"Well, he loves me," I defended, feeling a rush of emotion.
"That doesn’t mean anything! This is insane! You can’t marry anyone; you’re way too young for that! And you don’t even know him! How could you just say you want to marry him?" Fiona chimed in, her voice rising with frustration.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could find the words, the door swung open with a creak, and Carlos and his men strode into the house. My heart sank at the sight of him, a heavy weight settling in my chest as I realized he was probably here to make everything worse.
He walked confidently toward Fiona and Richard, who both glared at him with hatred and anger as if they’d been waiting for this confrontation for a long time. "I’m here to take my wife," he declared, his voice steady as he locked eyes with them.
"I should have guessed right away, you’re the guy she’s talking about," Richard said, clearly frustrated.
"That’s me," Carlos replied, turning to me and flashing a small smile. I didn’t smile back; I just stared at him, wondering why he seemed so happy.
"She’s not marrying you, Carlos," Fiona interjected firmly.
"You guys know each other?" I asked, realizing I hadn’t mentioned his name to them yet she knew his name.
"Yes, we do. In fact, everyone knows him. And we know what he does to girls like you." Fiona said
My heart sank. "Girls like me?" I questioned, anxiety creeping in. "What do you do with girls like me?"
"Don’t listen to her, my love; she doesn’t know what she’s saying," Carlos said, locking eyes with Fiona. They exchanged a tense glance before he turned back to me. "Anyways, we better get going. We don’t want to be late, my love."
"We're leaving?" I asked, feeling confused.
He nodded. "Yeah, I’m here to pick you up. After all, you are my wife," he said as he glanced at Fiona for a second before glancing back at me.
"No, I’m not. We aren’t married yet," I stated firmly
His expression shifted abruptly, and a frown creased his brow. "I said we are married, and so we are. Now let’s go," he insisted, his grip tightening as he took my hand.
I felt a surge of panic rise within me, wanting nothing more than to pull away and flee, but deep down, I knew that escaping was not an option—not with someone as dangerous as him. He could do anything, and the thought sent chills down my spine.
Fiona and Richard sprang into action, trying to block our path but Carlos didn’t waver; his men surged forward, physically restraining them and allowing us to make our way out of the room.
I felt completely hopeless, wanting so badly to break free from him. But I knew that walking away would have its consequences but would those consequences be worse than staying? I had no idea, but one thing was clear: I had to come with him.
I turned back to catch one last glimpse of Fiona and Richard, I felt bad. I wished I could help them, but I knew that any act of defiance would only provoke Carlos further. I couldn’t bear the thought of him retaliating against them, especially not with the kind of violence I knew he was capable of.
The driver opened the door to the sleek black car, and as I climbed in, Carlos followed, slamming the door shut behind him. The car lurched into motion, and my heart raced as he handed me a stack of papers. I glanced down, confusion clouding my mind. "What is this?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
"Don’t ask me questions, just sign it," he replied with a stern edge, thrusting a pen into my hand. Reluctantly, I scrawled my name across the pages, my mind racing with the implications of what I was doing. I handed the papers back to him, my hands shaking slightly.
"Now what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, anxiety tightening my chest.
He smirked a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Now we are officially married."
My heart lurched in my chest as his words nested in my ear. He looked at me with a smile as he reached out tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
He then leaned in closer, as if he was about to kiss me, and for a brief moment, I hoped for something tender. But just like before, he stopped, a smirk creeping onto his lips that sent a shiver down my spine. That smile was far from warm; it was wicked, filled with a dark amusement that made my stomach churn. At that moment, a wave of dread washed over me as I realized I had just signed marriage papers with a devil in disguise, tying me to a fate I couldn’t escape.