Chapter 3
3
Catalina
I barely slept that night and was catatonic during my dress fitting.
The room, the people… they all faded away. I lifted my hands when told and turned when instructed, just like a perfect little doll.
My mind was chaotic, broken. My soul crushed to pieces, and yet my body forced me to survive. I breathed, ate when given food, drank when given water, and functioned as though I were on autopilot.
By the next day, the entryways and backyard had been transformed with beautiful arrays of flowers, marble sculptures, fountains, and candles. Chandeliers and draping plants decorated the house in a theme of white, green, and gold. Everything was detailed to perfection.
Any bride would have been overjoyed to get married there if they had been given a choice.
But to me, the sculptures were nightmarish, the rush of the water from the fountains too loud. The plants were thorny vines keeping me in my cage. Each decoration squeezed the walls of my prison around me tighter, suffocating me.
I had two roles—the obedient daughter and the joyful bride—and I was so numb that I went along with both.
But something in me snapped when I heard my father's voice as he walked through the hallway, rattling off commands and tasks to a wedding planner.
What am I doing?
This wasn't me, and it would never be me. I couldn't just give up. I refused to.
Yes, Fernando's wealth and connections made escaping a monumental challenge. But if others had escaped the mafia, so could I.
I won't be an easy captive . I won’t allow them to break my spirit.
When I returned to my room I combed through the file again, looking for anything that might help me. But it only emphasized that Fernando's power was absolute.
But as I read over the page of commands, I smirked.
My marriage to Fernando was inevitable, but if he thought I’d obey all of his terms, he had another thing coming.
I sat on the edge of my bed, the clock ticking loudly, reminding me of the precious time I was losing.
My wedding was tomorrow. The preparations were all in place, exactly as Fernando and my father had wanted. But I wouldn’t be.
Fernando wanted a virgin bride, and when I walked down the aisle tomorrow, I wouldn’t be.
My plan was dangerous and could go wrong, just like all my others seemed to. But I didn't care anymore. It was all I had, all I could do. And that small semblance of control was worth fighting for.
The guard who arrived with my dinner was young and arrogant. A man who believed he could have anything he wanted without question, making him exactly who I needed.
"Come in." I held the door open and he placed the plate on the table, but as he turned to leave, I closed the door behind me, blocking him.
The guard opened his mouth, but I bunched the fabric of my dress in my clammy hands and pulled it off.
His eyes widened, taking in my naked form while I swallowed the churning disgust rising within me.
It's okay. This has to happen. It'll be better this way. Just endure it for a little while.
I'd never thought I was beautiful. My father had always said I looked too Hispanic. My skin was too tan, my eyes too dark, my hair easily frizzy and difficult to maintain. But the one benefit I had was my body.
My breasts were perky, my ass round and tight. I had no fat on my body due to the frequent starvation I'd been subjugated to. My waist was narrow, my hips wide, and I had more legs than torso.
Based on the erection in the guard's pants, he found me attractive enough.
"Do you have a condom?" I whispered, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
"Yeah." His voice was gruff. Slowly, he approached me, like I was his fantasy come to life.
He pulled me into his arms, then angled his head toward mine, but I pushed him back.
"No kissing," I said, my voice quivering.
He smirked. "Fine by me."
He fucked me from behind on my bed as I muffled my small whimpers of pain into the sheets. I stared out the window until the world slipped away, and I no longer felt him or heard our bodies slapping against each other.
When he was done, he rolled off the condom, threw it in the trash, and left.
I walked into the bathroom, turned on the hot water in my tub, and climbed inside. My skin turned red, burning, but I didn't feel it, didn't care.
Tears welled in my eyes, streaming down my cheeks.
I'd taken control. My plan was a success. I wasn't a virgin anymore, and yet the victory cut at my heart and soul.
I'd been desperate for love, for someone to actually want me , to make me feel like I was enough. I wanted to have value as my own person, not for what I could do or be but simply because I existed.
I'd held onto the hope that one day, I could finally grasp the love I'd always wanted. But I'd never gotten that.
It was time to accept the truth. And even though the alternative would have been worse, even though I'd done the right thing, I grieved for everything I'd lost.
It wasn't just my virginity; it was my hopes, my dreams, my life, me. My heart was broken, dead, nothing more than an empty shell.
I sobbed into my arm, biting hard, trying to dull the anguish and sorrow threatening to consume me. But this time, it didn't work. And when it failed, I covered my mouth with my hands and screamed.
I screamed and screamed until the water almost overflowed.
I shut off the faucet, sitting there until the water, and my body, became numbingly cold.
I let myself feel it all, because this would be the last time I could. When I walked down the aisle tomorrow, I would have to do so as a warrior, prepared for battle. There would be no room for regret, self-pity, or any foolish emotion ever again.
My wedding day would mark the beginning of my resistance, and I would be ready for it.
My bedroom door flew open, the loud sound startling me awake. A cheery young maid pulled open the curtains, then placed a meal on my table. "Wake up, miss! Today's the big day! You must be so excited."
I'd rather walk through fire. Although I suppose that's exactly what I'm about to do.
The woman had left by the time I forced myself out of bed and reached my table. My stomach was in too many knots to eat much, but I managed to drink the soup, eat a piece of bread, and swallow the fruit before my stylist, makeup artist, hairdresser, and their assistants barged into the room. I endured being poked and prodded until they transformed me into the image of bridal perfection.
The women cooed over their work, complimenting me on my beauty, but I ignored them. They might not know the full scope of what was happening, but I couldn't help feeling they were complicit in the worst day of my life.
Once they left, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the person staring back at me draped in ivory satin, tulle, and lace.
The clock tolled, the sound slicing through me like the blade of a guillotine.
It's time.
A guard led me out of my room to the base of the stairs where my father waited for me with a sneer. "Don't mess this up, Catalina."
I held his gaze. "You're forgetting that after today, you will no longer hold any power over me. My fiancé clearly has you by the balls , Father. So keep your threats to yourself."
His eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, the music started.
He huffed, then forced my hand into the crook of his arm, turning us to the double doors leading out into the backyard, where the new chapter of my nightmare was waiting to begin.
As we stepped into the bright sun, I scanned the crowd, unsurprised to see my father's donors and colleagues on one side and what I assumed to be Fernando's mafia organization on the other. Their all-black suits and dark auras permeated the air.
Finally, I looked toward the altar where Fernando stood in a tailored black suit. His grin reminded me of a cat that had finally caught its mouse. It ignited a fire in my blood, and for once, I didn't have to worry about what would happen if I didn’t contain it.
With a smirk, I stuck my foot out and tripped my father, pulling my foot back just in time to ensure he didn't take me down with him.
A chorus of gasps erupted from my father's guests while Fernando's people snickered. Not a single person moved to help him, much to my delight.
My father had spent years buying the people around him, and now that he was down, no one bothered to help him up. If that wasn't karma, I wasn't sure what was.
Ignoring the patrons, I left my father there and marched toward Fernando, who sneered at me.
We were to meet a few steps before the priest and the altar, where my father would hand me over to Fernando, and we would take the last steps together. However, when Fernando extended his hand to me, I ignored it, continuing the last few steps on my own.
The priest's eyebrows nearly shot off his head as he glanced between us. Eventually, Fernando joined me at the top, a small tic in his jaw.
I blocked out the priest's prayers and blessings. It had been a long time since I’d believed in God, and as I stared at the man across from me, it cemented that either the primordial being didn't exist, or he hated me.
The feeling was mutual.
When it came time for me to say the two words that would lock me into my fate, I hesitated. For a moment, I fantasized about finally telling the truth. What would happen if I admitted I was being forced into this marriage by my abusive father who had threatened to kill me just days before? What would people think if they knew they'd supported such a monster?
But what was the point?
At best, they'd remove their donations quietly, then distance themselves to avoid any possible backlash. At worst, they'd believe I was lying, and the wedding would go forward in a less public location where I would be bruised, bloody, and have no voice of my own.
Even if they did believe me, much like they'd refused to help my father, they would refuse to help me. Especially if it meant acknowledging they'd made a mistake with the man they were in business with. Still, this moment with my small power of choice gave me joy.
I didn't know Fernando well, but it was clear he was a man of few words in public. He seemed to believe speaking to someone who couldn't benefit him was beneath him, using his guards, his size, or his presence to intimidate people.
That was why he hadn't pulled me back and forced me to go up the stairs with him. He didn't have to. No matter what tricks I played, everything would go according to his plan.
But making him sweat, irritating him, being anything other than the obedient wife he wanted gave me power, and I would continue to be a thorn in his side until I set myself free.
Fernando's grip on my wrist tightened. I'd have bruises come tomorrow morning, but I still waited a little longer, relishing in the growing impatience in his eyes.
"I do," I finally said, swallowing the bitterness on my tongue.
Fernando reached for the rings, but I grabbed them and shoved them on myself to make a point. He would never fully control me .
His nostrils flared and his neck corded.
Good.
When the priest turned and asked him the same question, Fernando's grip tightened around my hand as he snarled, "I do." He pulled my hand to his, forced me to take his ring, then squeezed until I finally slipped the band onto his finger.
"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!"
The finality in the priest's words echoed in my ears. Fernando leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head at the last second, making him kiss my cheek.
"You'll pay for that, wife ," he growled in my ear.
I turned my head and glared. "You should be happy you even got my cheek. Otherwise I would have thrown up on you on the spot."
Fernando glowered, leaning in close. "Don't forget who you're speaking to, Catalina."
I forced myself not to grind my teeth, taking a deep breath instead. "You may be the boss of the mafia, but that's as far as your leadership extends. If you wanted an obedient wife, you should have picked someone else." I flicked my eyes to our audience. "Now, in case you haven't noticed, the people are starting to stare, and I believe that goes against your idea of a perfect wedding."
His eyes narrowed. Then he stood to his full height, pulled me to him, and forcibly tucked my hand into his arm.
I ignored the congratulations and happy smiles of the guests. Ignored everything until we neared the exit where my father stood.
My father reached out to Fernando, grasping his hand with fake tears shining in his eyes. "Welcome to the family, Fernando. Please take care of my baby girl."
I glared at him. Putting on a performance, even at the end.
Fernando grimaced, but quickly forced a smile. "I promise."
The exchange spoke volumes. Fernando had the power here, but they were partners in something that required an appearance of companionship.
I doubted it had much to do with money, Fernando probably needed my father's status to access something. If my father was still playing the role of doting father, then I wasn't just Fernando's wife to breed, but a link between our families.
I smiled, the first real one I'd had in longer than I could remember. Fernando might abuse me, but he couldn't kill me as long as he needed Simon. And my father couldn't hurt me and risk angering Fernando for injuring his new possession. Without meaning to, they'd given me leverage.
Fernando could only know what my father told him. And since I'd fooled my father for years, that information was likely inaccurate. Which meant I had a higher chance of escaping with Fernando than my father. It would take time, but it would work.
There was nothing but hatred in my father's eyes as he turned to me, his arms outstretched for a hug.
I stepped into his embrace. "Goodbye, Father. I hope the next time I see you is at your funeral."
A vein throbbed in his forehead, and he looked ready to strangle me, but he couldn't, and it made me feel like I was flying.
The feeling continued. I was exhilarated, like I'd just jumped from a skyscraper. I laughed in glee as Fernando yanked me outside, done playing the loving groom.
He threw me into the limo, making my head hit the glass hard, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off my face. For a moment, I closed my eyes and simply basked in bliss. Yes, I'd left the lion's den for the devil's lair, but at least I'd left.
"You're in an awfully good mood for someone forced into marriage, Catalina. I hope you keep that up for our wedding night."
The threat in his tone chilled me, but I refused to show it. Tonight would be another battle, and no matter the consequences, I would win.