Bound by Betrayal (The Mafia King Captive Bride)

As I sat beside my bed, curled up in a ball, a sudden knock echoed through the room. The sound sent a jolt of surprise through me, and I quickly composed myself. Margaret, our house servant who had taken on the role of a mother figure since my own mother’s passing, entered the room. “I’ve been informed by Mr. Harlow to come and assist you, Miss Ashley,” she said with a reassuring smile.

With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself up from the floor. The weight of my circumstances seemed unbearable, and the thought of facing my wretched destiny loomed over me. I think that I just need to face my miserable fate.

“I need to pack,” I said quietly, puffing out a breath. “Tomorrow is my wedding,”

“Oh, really!” She grinned, not even bothering to inquire about the details. Maybe she hadn’t caught wind of the internet buzz or perhaps she assumes it’s about Mason. Either way, I stick to my vague reference, not quite ready to face her probing questions. I yank out two suitcases from my closet and plonk them onto the bed.

“So, what’s on the packing list?” she chirped, a smile plastered on her face. Letting out a sigh, I turned away from her and made my way to the wall mirror. “Just the essentials, Margaret,” I mumbled. She strolled over to my drawer and started flinging my favorite clothes onto the bed.

I ain’t much into fancy dresses, preferring comfy clothes instead. But Margaret, being the thoughtful soul she is, pulled out some nice dresses that would do the trick for special occasions. She chucked them onto the bed too.

I mean shouldn’t I be happy that I am finally getting married to my celebrity crush……. Deep down I feel suffocating, torn, and shattered into pieces.

As I looked around my room, trying to assess what and what I needed to pack. Opening the drawer beneath the wall mirror, I retrieved the diamond necklace that Mason had gifted me on our first date in Mexico. Gazing at it, a lone tear trickled down my cheek, memories flooding my mind.

The promises that we both made to each other and our dreams together were broken and forgotten due to that very night. I could have understood if he cheated on me with another person but why……..! Why my sister? Why Olivia of all the girls out there, he chose my sister? Despite knowing that we never get along.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

I held the necklace tightly against my chest, agony coursing through my veins. Mason, I betrayed you… Lost in my anguish, a gentle hand rested on my shoulder. “You okay, Miss Ashley?”

I quickly hid the necklace under my dress and instantly stood up. I strode toward my latrine and took out my toiletries and other necessities, tugging them inside my suitcase while ignoring the look Margaret was throwing my way.

Turning around, I let out a sigh and proclaimed, “Looks like we’re finished.” Margaret nodded in agreement.

However, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over me as I stared at the two suitcases resting on my bed. Never did I imagine my life could become such a chaotic mess. I’d never felt so worthless and miserable all my life but in this moment, I can’t help but confront the harsh reality that I am to be married off to Damien Albrecht, in exchange for my father’s company_ all this was because of our reputation that I have succeeded in dragging to the mud, all thanks to Olivia and my best friend Layla.

Looking at Margaret, a part of me wanted to run to her, to cry to her, to tell her how scared I am about this unknown responsibility that has just befallen me…….. But I couldn’t dare to make a move, her sympathy at this time is going to make me feel worse.

“Thank you for coming to help me out,” I muttered, my voice lacking enthusiasm. She brushed it off, chuckling softly as she gently lifted my chin. “I’m happy to lend a hand. I’ll be here bright and early to assist with the wedding preparations.”

Her words served as a harsh wake-up call, a painful reminder of the stark reality staring me in the face. I mustered a feeble smile as I guided her towards the exit. Once she was gone, I carefully positioned my suitcase by the door and made my way back to my bed, where I had my tiny body curled up on the duvet.

Clutching onto my lifeless pillow, I desperately tried to push away the overwhelming pain and worries consuming me. At that moment, a bittersweet image of my dear mother slipped into my thoughts. I knew deep down that wherever she may be, she wouldn’t be proud of the path I was forced to walk. Oh, how I yearned for her presence, even if it meant hearing comforting lies.

And the weight of that regret weighs heavily on my heart. If only I could rewrite the past. The ache of longing and the sting of remorse consume me, as I yearn for a chance to mend what was broken. Oh, how I wish I never left that night. The pain is deep, and the tears flow freely as I navigate the depths of my sorrow.

As the burden of my wretched existence grew heavier, the weight upon my shoulders became unbearable. Tears streamed down my face, their salty trails marking the depth of my pain. Exhaustion finally overtook me, pulling me into the solace of a deep slumber, where my sorrows momentarily faded away.