I’M BEGGING YOU
T his was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but all I can think about is that I’m already living in hell.
My phone died yesterday. I don’t have a charger, and no one will lend me one. I’m not even supposed to have a phone. I haven’t been able to speak to my mum. My husband won’t let go of me, and my father looks thrilled, of course.
I wish I had something to hold over him, but even spilling our secrets wouldn’t be a bother. It would only hurt my mum more, and I can’t let that happen.
I’ve got nothing.
“Don’t eat much,” my husband whispers in my ear. “I don’t want a pig for a wife.”
I haven’t eaten. My plate is untouched, so what he’s saying is ridiculous. How could I have an appetite when I was left at the altar?
He didn’t. Something happened to him.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
I run, barely making it before I throw up into the toilet. Then, I cry so hard my throat and chest ache.
Dante would be holding me right now. We would’ve gotten away.
Did he know we weren’t getting married here? Is that why he wanted to leave?
Did he prepare me but fall in love with me afterwards?
He couldn’t have been pretending. That wouldn’t be possible. I gave him everything I had!
The door opens. I quickly shut my mouth and hold my breath.
“Pet?”
As soon as I hear my mum’s voice, I rush out.
“What’s going on? Where’s Dante? Is he hurt? Did he hurt Dante so he wouldn’t marry me? Who the hell is he, Mum?”
She doesn’t answer. Her lips tremble, and she stretches her arms toward me.
I run to her, crying even harder as she pats my head.
“His name is Stefan Noskov,” she says softly. “I don’t know what happened, pet, but we have to pretend.”
My heart sinks.
“I want Dante. I don’t—”
“I know.” She pulls away to look at me. “If there’s one thing I learned when I married your father, it’s that we have to agree to everything, no questions asked.”
No.
“You want me to go on and act like this is okay?”
“It’s what you must do. We do not—”
“I was living with him! He never once laid a finger on me. He was sweet and caring, and Stefan already—in the car, he—” My voice cracks. “You can’t be serious, Mum.”
She sighs and pulls my head to her chest, but not even her embrace can make me feel better.
“I’m so sorry, pet. I really am.”
I cry against my mum’s chest. She rocks me in place and starts singing a song I haven’t heard in ages.
I cry harder. This is the last time I’ll be with her.
This is the last time I’ll feel her arms around me.
I will never listen to her again. I don’t want to leave.
I want to be with her. I want to save her.
Why can’t I do anything to get us out this hell?
I failed her again.
I’m so sorry, mum.
I glance at myself in the mirror. All my makeup is ruined.
Just like me.
“Fucking smile.”
How could I, when my heart is shattered?
Stefan’s hands grip my waist. Everyone is watching us, so I swallow my sadness and force a smile onto my face.
Pretending will get me out of here alive. Pretending will give me time to think. Pretending will give me time to find Dante.
I can’t let myself think about him, or I’ll start crying again.
“When we finish, you must kiss me,” he says with a sick smile.
“What?”
“God, I hate dumb questions. Do you want me to kill your mother?”
I swallow hard, the knot in my throat tightening with every second.
Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life with a man like him? To have kids with him?
No. I won’t have any children. I won’t make them endure what I went through. I’d rather die.
All the freedom I thought I had is gone. They’ve stolen it from me—again.
Pretend. Smile. Obey. Don’t falter.
We stop, and I look at him with my best fake smile—the one that tears me apart inside. He mirrors it, his grin both victorious and angry.
Then, I stand on my tiptoes, trembling as I press my lips to his.
Gross.
I hate every second of it.
Cheers explode around us. Couples step forward to join our dance. I look around, desperate to find something, anything, someone who can save me.
And then I see him. His dark blue eyes, his scars, his lips.
I freeze as he smiles at us. My breath hitches painfully in my chest. I need to run to him. I need to feel his arms around me, to beg him to take me away, to get me out of this nightmare. But my husband keeps me at his side with a crushing grip.
Please, Dante. Please, help me. Please, I’m begging you. Please. I need you. Please, I—
He raises his cup, and with a sickening grin, drops it, not even sparing me a glance. He turns away like I’m invisible. I’m suffocating, burning in this hell.
I look at my husband—his cold eyes meet mine, and my stomach twists violently.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, my voice trembling, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
He narrows his eyes, and for a second, I think he might stop me.
“Shall I remind you you’re surrounded by guns?” he asks calmly.
“No, I—I really need to pee. And get some air,” I whisper.
He studies me for a moment, but to my relief, he nods and lets me go.
I run, desperate. I don’t care if anyone sees me. I need him. I need an explanation—anything. I need him to tell me to stop trying; to tell me he just used me. I won’t believe it from anyone else.
We were both tricked into this. I know we were. I need him to tell me this was all a mistake—or that falling for him was.
My heart races, my mind a storm of confusion. I refuse to believe that he just used me. He couldn’t have. He can’t have. His eyes told me everything I needed to know—his touch, his words. He loved me. I know he loves me.
I reach the door, but my father steps in front of it, blocking my way. Dante is getting away, and I can’t let him leave. But I can’t shout at him either.
“Please,” I plead, my voice cracking. “Please, I need to talk to him.”
“We had a deal.”
“We never—”
“Dante and I, not you and me,” he cuts me off.
His words shatter my heart. My breath hitches, the room spins, and I feel the weight of everyone’s stares. I can’t stop shaking.
He’s lying.
“What are you talking about?” My voice trembles.
His lips curl in a wicked smile.
“You really believed he loved you?” he says, shaking his head. “Dante was never built to be a husband. He never has been.”
“You have a fiancé and you’re still dripping on my hand... Poor guy. He deserves better than a used cunt like yours.”
“I’m going to fuck this tight pussy until it’s full of my cum. You’ll be walking down the aisle with it dripping out of you, and you’ll be thinking about what I’ll do to you tonight... And when you get married, you’ll think about me every day until we meet again, my little whore.”
“Oh, that poor, lucky bastard.”
He wasn’t pretending. He used me.
“He was here,” I choke out.
“To pay me.”
I lift my chin, though my vision blurs with unshed tears. “Liar. You’ve been lying my whole life—even to my mum.”
This was a family thing. He didn’t sell me. This was an arrangement between—
“What do I gain from lying? I’ve already won.”
Every word from his mouth kills me. He steps closer, and I flinch on the spot.
“Dante is one of the most wanted human traffickers, püppchen ,” he continues. “You honestly think I’d let you marry someone like that?”
“Stop,” I plead, as I take a step back.
“Why do you think I kept you locked away? He was going to sell you to someone else. He wouldn’t even take my money. He was planning to use you until he got bored. You’re lucky I struck an agreement with him, or you’d have ended up back in that place.”
I can’t breathe. My chest tightens, and panic grips me.
I need answers. I need to go to him.
My father pulls out his phone and hands it to me.
On the screen are messages—exchanges between him and Dante. Agreements. Sums of money. Comments about me, about my body, like I was nothing more than merchandise.
It’s meaningless. I can’t believe this.
He snatches the phone back. “Now, you’ll be a good girl and return to your husband. You’ll spend the night with him, and you’ll get used to being with him.”
My voice wavers. “How do you even know him? If he’s into trafficking, you—”
“I’m into other things,” he interrupts, his voice cold and dismissive, “but nothing so vile as that. I owed him a favour, and I paid with you. And yes, he paid for the times you slept with him.” His lips curl into a mocking smile.
“I must say, I’m disappointed you didn’t wait until marriage. But at least I made more money.”
He sold me.
Dante bought me.
Stefan bought me.
I was never more than a thing to them. A toy. Something to use, to make them feel good.
I lurch forward, my knees about to give out. My trembling hands clutch at the collar of his jacket, clinging to it like a lifeline.
“I—Please, don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything. Let me go, I—”
He places a hand over mine. “I’m sorry, püppchen . There’s nothing I can do. I warned you.”
This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.
“What was the deal?” I whisper.
He exhales. “At first, he wanted a quick fuck. I agreed.” I flinch, but he continues as if my reaction doesn’t matter.
“But then he met you and got greedy. A few weeks later, he got bored and didn’t want to keep you.
So, he said that if he married you, he could make even more money off your body.
I couldn’t let my little girl go through hell again, so I made a new deal.
If I got you a husband, he wouldn’t have to keep you.
But he could still fuck you, as long as he paid. And he agreed.”
“That doesn’t make—”
“You’re lucky Stefan was interested,” he cuts me off. “He saved you from being shared again. I saved you, püppchen .”
I want to die.
“Dante loved me,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “He loves me.”
“If he loves you, why isn’t he here fighting for you?” he snaps. “Why did he send me those messages? Why would he give me money to use your cunt?”
“ Daddy —”
“He just wanted to use you, püppchen . And you didn’t listen. You were so desperate for a little love that you’d have accepted anything.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to. And I don’t want a scene. So, you will go back to your husband, and you will put a pretty smile on your face. Go on.”
“I love him.”
He brushes a tear from my cheek with the same hand that destroyed me at night. His touch feels like poison.
This is horrible. I don’t want him near me.
I want Dante. I want him.
Please.
I don’t want to believe him, but he’s right. Why isn’t he fighting for me now? Why did he smile? Why did he cheer?
I trusted him. I opened my heart for him.
“You weren’t supposed to. He never loved you,” my father laughs. “Why do you think he knew you before? Because he was waiting for the right time.”
That single sentence is the stab I needed to die.
He knew Dante had met me before.
My chest tightens as I meet my father’s gaze. “If you’re sorry, if you care even a little for me, please… give me something to get through the night.”
“ Püppchen —”
“I’m begging you,” I choke out. Tears stream down my face. “I can’t be with him. I don’t—”
Sobs take over.
He sighs before reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small, round pill and places it in my trembling hand.
“It’ll make you dizzy,” he warns. “Take it in the car.”
I nod, clutching the pill like it’s my only salvation. I turn to leave, but his arms come around me, pulling me into a hug.
All my life, I wanted this—a simple embrace. I did everything to earn one. And now he’s doing this because there are guests passing by. Because appearances matter more than I do. More than my feelings.
I was never enough. Not for him. Not for Dante.
I was right. There are no marriages made of love.
This is one of the worst days of my life. And I know there are more to come.