Sarah
Today is my wedding day.
It's supposed to be the day that should be the happiest day of my life. My wedding day is the day I've been dreaming about since I was a little girl.
Yes, the flowers are perfect, the cake is divine, and my dress fits like a glove. Everything I dreamed of has become true. But the only problem is that I am getting the wrong groom.
Thanks to my loving father.
"Stop frowning so much honey, you will crease your makeup," my aunt Linda comments as she fusses over my veil.
I roll my eyes. "Well, maybe a few creases will make it more authentic. You know, the 'teary-eyed bride' look."
Aunt Linda chuckles, realizing the irony of the situation. "You always did have a way with words, dear. Maybe you can use that humor to get through today."
I manage a small smile. "Maybe I should start practicing my stand-up routine now. It might be the only way to survive this."
"I don't know why you got your panties in a twist about this. I saw the young man you are betrothed to. And I must say, he is quite easy on the eyes," Linda cooes. "He looks like the young Clint."
"Who is Clint?" I ask, my irritation grows.
"Eastwood? You young people don't know anything these days," she shakes her head in disappointment.
I suddenly perk up. "Oh em gee, Aunt Linda! I have a great idea!"
She looks at me suspiciously. "What is it?"
"YOU should marry Vincent! You are divorced and barely forty. You and Mr. Young Eastwood will be perfect for each other," I chirp.
Aunt Linda's eyes widen in shock, and then she bursts into laughter. "Well, honey, that's a tempting offer, but I think I'll pass. Besides, I've had my fair share of marriages and divorces. It's your turn to take the plunge."
I pout, "But Aunt Linda, I barely know this guy! And I don't want my fairy tale to start with someone who looks like Clint Eastwood. No offense to the man, but I had different leading man aspirations."
She raises an eyebrow, "Different leading man aspirations? Do tell, my dear."
"I don't know, maybe someone more like... Chris Hemsworth? You know, the whole Thor vibe," I say. At this point, I will take anyone other than Mr. American Psycho.
Aunt Linda laughs heartily, "Ah, aiming for the Norse god type, are we? Well, dear, unfortunately, it's too late to turn back now."
I want to die.
~-~
The music begins to play, filling the air with a soft, melodic tune. My heart beats faster as I take a deep breath as my father walks me down the aisle.
I see Vincent waiting for me at the altar. Dammit, I was kind of hoping he would have cold feet!
Vincent looks devilishly handsome in his all-black suit, his dark hair perfectly coiffed, and his piercing blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. He stands tall and confident, exuding a magnetic charm that draws everyone's gaze.
But as my eyes meet his, a shiver runs down my spine. There's an intensity in his gaze, a hint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface.
My father takes my hand and places it on top of his. In this moment, I feel trapped, like a bird with clipped wings. My dream wedding has turned into a nightmare, and there's no escape from this twisted reality.
Vincent's eyes are cold as he stares into mine. He is not even smirking, let alone smiling at his new bride. In fact, he looks like he hates me. Why did he even agree to this whole thing?
The officiant begins the ceremony, and I can hardly focus on the words being spoken. My mind is a whirlwind of confusion, regret, and an unsettling realization that this nightmare is now my reality.
As the vows are exchanged, I find myself mechanically repeating the words, my gaze fixed on Vincent. He says his vows with an icy tone, and the weight of the situation presses down on me like a lead blanket.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," declares the officiant, and a knot tightens in my stomach.
Vincent doesn't even spare me a glance as he goes in for the obligatory kiss. It's as if he's going through the motions with a complete lack of emotion. This kiss is completely different than the way he kissed me at the bridal store.
Boy...he is definitely a psycho.
The applause from the guests echoes in my ears, but the sound is hollow, drowned out by the realization that I am now bound to a man who seems to despise me.
As we walk back down the aisle together, Vincent's grip on my hand is firm and possessive. I can't help but glance at Natalie, who is sitting among the other guests. She smiles at me as our eyes meet, then gives me an awkward thumbs up.
The reception is a blur. The forced smiles, the polite conversations, the toasts that feel like a mockery of my life. I catch glimpses of Vincent talking with my father, their expressions cold.
This whole thing feels so surreal.
During our first dance, Vincent wordlessly extends his hand towards me. Reluctantly, I place my hand in his, feeling the roughness of his palm against mine.
Vincent's touch is cold, his grip tight as he pulls me closer to him. "Are you going to flinch every time I touch you, little one?"
"S...sorry, your hands are cold," I whisper. I should've worn high heels because I barely came up to his chest as we danced. The way he towers over me makes me feel small and insignificant, and I feel like a doll being dragged around by its owner.
Vincent's lips curl into a small smile, his eyes narrowing. "Get used to it, sweetheart. You're mine now, and I expect you to act accordingly."
His words send a chill down my spine, and I force a smile, trying to play along. The dance feels like an eternity, and as the song finally ends, Vincent releases me with a curt nod.
I quickly seize the opportunity and walk away from him as quickly as I could. I find Natalie among the sea of guests, so I grab her hand and drag her near the cake.
"He is evil, Natalie. I can feel it," I hiss under my breath, so no one can hear me.
Natalie shakes her head. "You are overreacting."
I scoff, "Overreacting? He looks like he's plotting my demise."
Natalie rolls her eyes and pats my hand. "Come on, it's just wedding jitters. Vincent may be a bit intimidating, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."
I shoot her a disbelieving look. "Warm up? Natalie, the man practically exudes ice. And did you see the way he kissed me at the altar? It was like being kissed by a statue. I'm telling you, there's something seriously wrong with him."
"But the way he kissed you that day at the bridal store? That looked hot," Natalie reminds me.
She isn't wrong. That kiss was steaming hot. I couldn't shake the memory from my mind all day that day. It was like a catchy tune stuck on repeat. And when night came, my dreams were filled with steamy scenes starring us. I woke up feeling oddly satisfied and extremely embarrassed, and also very angry at myself for thinking of him that way.
The sound of Natalie's voice brings me back from my thoughts. I shake my head, trying to push away the confusing mix of desire and fear that lingers within me. "That doesn't matter now. There's something off about him, Nat. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I feel it in my gut that he hates me."
Natalie sighs, her eyes filled with concern. "Look, I understand that you're scared and unsure, but it's too late to back out now."
I take a deep breath. She's right. There's no turning back now. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.
At one point, I excuse myself from the crowded dance floor and make my way to the balcony for some fresh air.
I lean against the railing, wanting to breathe in some fresh air. My mind is racing, trying to make sense of everything that has happened. Who is this man that I married? And why do I feel like I'm swimming in shark-infested waters?
The sound of footsteps behind me makes me turn around, and there stands Vincent, his face void of any emotion. "It's time to go," he says.
"Go where?" I ask lamely.
Vincent steps closer. "To our hotel. Where we will spend our first night as the married couple."
Sarah Whitmore, you are toast.
SarahThe presidential honeymoon suite at the hotel is unlike anything I have ever seen before. As soon as I walked through the door, I let out a low whistle of amazement.The room is spacious, with high ceilings and large windows. The walls are painted a soft cream color, and the furniture is all made of rich, dark wood."What a beautiful room!" I chirp.Vincent doesn't even crack a smile. He looks less than impressed, as if we had just walked into Motel 6.The bed is the centerpiece of the room, a king-size four-poster with a thick, plush mattress and silky sheets. I can't help but think that this is something straight out of a romance novel.I look at the rose petals scattered all over the room and a giant jacuzzi tub that looks inviting. I gulp. Is he going to expect me to get in it later?I slowly walk over to the bed and sit down, my heart thumping in my chest. I hear Vincent walking over to me, and I want to get up and hurl my body out the window. I can't bear the thought of gi
Sarah"I am going to grab a quick shower. And when I come back, I expect you to be ready," he says gruffly and walks away.I watch as Vincent leaves the room, his presence lingering in the air like a poisonous cloud. The moment he's gone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.I know I shouldn't feel relieved in any shape or form since he will come back and demand to do the nasty with me. I have nowhere to run from here.I glance at the clock on the nightstand and realize that time is ticking away. I hear the shower go off and an unwanted thought crosses my mind.I wonder how he looks naked and wet...Seriously, Sarah? Why would you think about that? I scold myself, shaking off my inappropriate curiosity. It's a defense mechanism, I tell myself, a way to distract from the harsh reality of the situation. That man is going to come back and destroy my virginity and take away my dignity so I shouldn't be lusting over him.I quickly busied myself with straightening the already
SarahI slap my palm against his muscular chest before he enters me. "Please wait," I plead meekly."Wait? What for? Are you trying to stall again? His deep blue eyes glare at me suspiciously."While you...um...enter me, I want you to kiss me again like you did in that store," I say in an almost pleading voice."What?" He looks at me like I am speaking a foreign language."I'd never been kissed like that before, and it was...nice," I say. If he kisses me, at least I can pretend to feel like he likes me.Sad, I know.Vincent's eyebrows furrow as he considers my request, his dark eyes flickering with a mix of confusion and something else I can't quite decode. After a moment's hesitation, he lets out a deep sigh and leans closer, his warm breath ghosting over my lips."Fine," he mutters, his voice gruff with annoyance. "But don't get any ideas, princess. It's just a damn kiss."My heart skips a beat as he closes the distance between us, his lips pressing against mine. The touch is nothin
SarahVincent's eyes widen in surprise as my words hang in the air. A stunned silence follows, broken only by the sound of our labored breaths.Then, unexpectedly, Vincent bursts into laughter. His deep, rumbling chuckles fill the room and echo off the walls. It's the laugh I loved earlier.I watch as his laughter subsides, replaced once again by that cold, detached mask he wears so effortlessly. His eyes meet mine, and there is a flicker of something unreadable in them. I can't quite place it—perhaps confusion or curiosity—but it is quickly hidden beneath his usual stoicism."You are something else," he finally says, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Slaughtered a chicken with my penis, huh? That's a new one.""Aren't you going to ask me if I am okay?" I point out."Why would I do that?" he asks."Because you just took my virginity, jerk," I remind him. "And it hurt. Like a lot.""Ah, well. Are you expecting me to apologize? Not gonna happen, princess." His eyes narrow at me
Vincent Sterling, 35 years old..My perfectly smooth brow crinkles in frustration, and my jaw tenses as I fight to suppress the irritation that boils within me toward my new wife. Ever since I met her, she seems to always know how to push my buttons. Right now, here she is, rolling around in sheets like a weirdo.My frustration deepens as I watch her seemingly carefree antics. "What the hell are you doing?""These sheets are so soft! I want to be wrapped in them like a burrito. What's the thread count on these bad boys?" she asks."What is wrong with her?" I mutter, my tone a mix of disbelief and annoyance.She giggles, seemingly amused at my reaction. "Come on, Hubby, it's so cozy! Join me!"I clench my jaw. "Don't call me Hubby.""What am I supposed to call you then? Daddy?" she asks."Vincent, just call me Vincent. Now get up. You are acting like a fool," I order."No. I think I will call you Daddy since you are old enough to be my Sugar Daddy. Also, I think I will take a nap now,"
Sarah "Are you almost done getting ready?" I hear Vincent yell and giggle to myself. I am taking my time, slowly getting dressed just to piss him off. He said something about dinner, and I am guessing he meant some type of fancy dinner since he likes to show off his money. So, I purposely dressed down. Way down. "What the hell are you wearing?" he barks angrily, just as I predicted. "What do you mean?" I ask innocently as he eyes me up and down. I decided to wear my cropped t-shirt with short shorts that were ripped at the bottom. I figured since he called me a teenager, I might as well dress like one. Vincent's frustration is palpable as he stands there, staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. I can't help but revel in the satisfaction of getting under his skin. It can become a little game between us – his attempt to control everything and my silent rebellion. "You can't wear that," he grumbles, clearly irritated. I flash him a mischievous grin. "Why not? I j
Sarah"Um...I am sorry, Jared, but I can't talk right now. I have to go," I say quickly and try to walk away, but Jared stops me."Hang on a minute, Sarah. I've been calling and texting you, but you haven't replied. Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we were best friends," Jared says. He looks hurt and I feel a twinge of guilt.I have been avoiding him because I couldn't bear to tell him that I was being shipped off to some strange man by my own father. It's so damn humiliating!"I have been busy," I say lamely."Busy? Come on, Sarah. I know you are lying. Just tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help," Jared says."What's going on here?"My heart jumps as I hear Vincent's deep voice. Where did he come from? "Nothing is going on. I was just walking back to the table," I say hurriedly.Jared looks from me to Vincent, confusion etched on his face. Vincent's expression is unreadable, but there's a hint of possessiveness in his gaze."Sarah, who is this?" Vincent asks, his tone firm.
SarahThe next day, I decided to explore Vincent's mansion a bit. It is supposed to be my home now, too, after all.I ran into a woman dusting the shelves, so that became my first stop."Hi!" I chirp.The woman turns around and smiles. "Hello, Mrs. Sterling. I am Jennifer.""Yuck, don't call me Mrs. Sterling. My name is Sarah. Keep that Satan Spawn's name off of me," I say and make a face.Jennifer laughs. "Satan Spawn? Are you talking about Vincent? Oh, come on, he is not that bad.""Not bad? Give me a break. I've been in this house for one day and a half, and I already want to throw myself out of the window. But enough about me. What do you do here, Jennifer?" I ask."A little bit of everything. I have been with the Sterling family for a long time, so Vincent's father sent me here to work after he decided to move out," Jennifer says."Ah, so are you like a Butler?" I ask.Jennifer smiles. "Something like that. And now I am in charge of taking care of you. If you ever need anything,