Chapter 10
ALICE
Iam battered black and blue and will probably never recover from the bruises this journey has gifted me. My limbs are screaming in agony, and I am struggling to breathe. It’s as if I’ve been buried alive and it’s a frightening experience that I’ve suffered too many times in my life.
I don’t know whether to be grateful when the car stops, or terrified.
I suppose I’m experiencing a mixture of both, and as the car jolts to a stop, I keep my eyes tightly closed.
I have decided to feign sleep until I get to understand my surroundings and as the light hits my eyelids, it tells me I’m free—as free as being locked in a trunk can be.
The warm air is welcome, and I attempt to drag in huge breaths of air without appearing desperate.
Rough hands grasp me, and I’m shocked when Stefan’s voice hits me.
“Do you have to be so fucking rough?”
“Sorry, habit I guess.”
My mind is racing because Stefan is here. What the hell is going on? A cold shiver of dread creeps through my bones at the realization that Stefan has betrayed me. Why is he doing this? Did whoever the boss is pay him? Did he ever like me even, let alone…
I park that thought because I’m ashamed of myself.
I’m starting to believe that I have been led up the garden path by the fucking gardener, of all people.
The disappointment is overwhelming, and I shift my mind from Stefan into survival mode and listen for anything that could help me escape from these men.
Once again, I am slung over the shoulder of my captor, and I chance opening my eyes to a slit where I notice the tarmac he is walking on.
There is movement—lots of it and shouting, machinery and the thump of activity.
I hear a plane landing and realize we are at an airport. Ironic, really, because that’s exactly where I should be. In fact, my flight is probably taking off and I’m the fool who believed she could make it on her own in a world she has never had to navigate before.
I’m such an idiot and angry with myself, but I must park that anger now and think fast.
We climb the aircraft steps and I’ve been around enough private jets in my life to know this is another one of them, but whose?
As we reach the cabin, I remain limp in the hope of buying myself some time, and a deep guttural voice slides over my soul like a demon’s curse.
“Good work. Tie her to the chair.”
Fuck. Tie her to the chair. So much for my escape plan.
Rough hands force me into the previously stated chair, and I try so hard to feign sleep as my arms are restrained by some kind of rope.
My ankles are also tied down, and inside I’m shaking like a flower in a tornado. This isn’t good and the only comfort I am taking from this is that I’m not dead yet.
I sense someone standing in front of me and try so hard not to react as the deep voice slides across my soul like a devil’s curse.
“Well, well, what a pretty wife I have.”
Fuck! Wife! Over my dead body will I marry whoever this man is.
“How long?”
He snaps and a deep voice answers him.
“The pilot is carrying out his checks and tells us ten minutes.”
“Tell him five if he wants to live to fly another day.”
Footsteps fade and I’m shocked when a painful slap causes my head to rock to one side.
“Wake the fuck up. We have business to attend to.”
I can’t help it and my eyes open to the sight of an older man leering at me, his eyes narrowed to slits as he licks his lips.
“Now I have your attention, my pretty little dove, allow me to introduce myself. I am your husband, and you will spend the rest of your life obeying me or you have no life at all.”
He snaps his fingers and yells, “Why is this fucking aircraft not airborne already?”
“I’m sorry, boss, the pilot tells me there’s a problem with one of the engines. He is working on isolating it, but it will take more time.”
His face deepens to an angry purple as he screams, “Tell him to get a fucking move on! I’m not letting this one slip through the net.”
My face hurts like fuck and I am shaking inside because marriage to this man is too horrific to even contemplate.
He peers past me and yells, “Bring me the priest!”
There’s a frantic movement behind me and then a small, thin man appears, nervously adjusting his spectacles as the scary beast roars, “Marry us now.”
I stare at him in horror as the man opens a bible and begins to recite the marriage vows, causing the man to screech, “Just get to the main part where you declare us husband and wife and then give me the marriage certificate.”
I shake my head vigorously, finally remembering I have a voice and scream. “I will not marry you. I’d rather you kill me first.”
Did I really just say that?
Another slap is my reward, followed by a deep, “Do not disobey my command–ever, or suffer the penalty. You will marry me, obey me and produce a child — our child and there is nothing you can do about that.”
“I will not.”
I openly sob as the horror of my situation hits hard, and yet the priest quickly declares. “Do you, Liam Dettori, take Alice Annalise Zaferelli as your lawful wedded wife?”
“I do.” His sudden leer makes my flesh creep, and the priest compounds my misery by saying, “Do you, Alice Annalise Zaferelli, take Liam Dettori to be your husband?”
“No, definitely not. Let me go.”
Another slap is my answer, and I swear I see stars this time.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
He thrusts a piece of paper at Liam and then scurries to the door of the plane where he exits as if his life depends on it.
As soon as he is gone, the door is closed and the engines scream into life, causing the bastard glaring at me to sneer, “Well, that went well and just so you know, as soon as this bird takes off, I’m gonna consummate this marriage whether you agree or not.”
If ever I felt real fear, it’s in this moment as I stare into the eyes of a deranged man. I notice the bulge in his pants straining against the fabric and the sweat gliding off his brow as he licks his lips, all the time staring at me with the promise of hell on earth.
I am powerless, beaten so hard it hurts and terrified, immobile and unable to defend myself and from the look of him, consummating the marriage will happen in the very near future.
The engines whirr and the aircraft moves, but he continues to stand in front of me. As the plane taxis toward the runway, he finally drops into the seat opposite me and buckles his belt.
“I’m going to fuck you until you beg for mercy, little dove, and guess what?
There won’t be any. You will be my wife and earn my respect because until you fall into line, your life will be a painful one.
You are mine now. I own you and the only way to survive what that involves is to do what the fuck I tell you.
You are mine to control, and the sooner you learn that lesson, the happier you will be. And a word of warning–”
He leans forward. “Do whatever the fuck I tell you or I will beat you every day of your fucking existence. I am your master now, and the sooner you accept that, the happier your life will be.”
Real fear is tearing at me from inside because how did my life spiral so fast into this?
Stefan never helped me at all; he was merely my passport to hell, and there is nothing I can do about that.
Like it or not, I have run out of options and what happens when this plane leaves the ground is not worth thinking about.
He may as well kill me now because what’s the point of living anyway?
I will be married to a tyrant—not if I have anything to do with it.