Her heart gave a small, startled jolt. She paused, listening intently. It was faint at first, like a soft moaning followed by a whisper of words. Pushing aside the unease and the sadness that already enveloped her, Charlotte tried not to think about the very possible reality. As she approached the door, the sounds grew clearer. There was an unmistakable rhythm to them now, like hushed whispers mingling with soft footsteps. She forced herself to breathe slowly, refusing to let her imagination run wild.
Step by deliberate step, Charlotte moved closer. When she reached the door, her hand hesitated on the handle. Who could it be? She couldn't ignore the possibility, yet she couldn't bring herself to back away either.
With a steadying breath, she opened the door slowly, and the blood drained from her face as she stared at what was before her. Her husband was with a red-haired woman on their matrimonial bed, the woman's clothes were off as he leaned close, kissing her roughly and cupping her breast with his hand. The woman begged him to insert himself into her as she moaned in pleasure.
He bent her roughly and slid into her, pumping hard. The woman's moans grew louder, making the pit of Charlotte's stomach churn in irritation. She couldn't believe her eyes, nor could she believe this was happening. She knew her husband didn't love her, but she hadn't expected him to do something as brazen as this. It was obvious he didn't care if she was standing by the door, watching him with another woman.
They continued their lustful act as Charlotte's heart hammered painfully against her rib cage. The air was thick with heat and sweat, and they both looked happy. Her face felt hot too, and she closed her eyes, taking several long, slow deep breaths.
Even though she didn't love him, she couldn't stand there and watch him getting intimate with another woman. The sight churned something deep within her, an unexpected mix of anger and disgust as she decided to go in and stop them, to put an end to the sordid display.
Just as she took a step forward, Charlotte felt a sudden, sharp yank on her hair. Pain shot through her scalp, and she stumbled backward as she was pulled by the hair down the passageway and into an enclosed room. She winced, struggling to keep her balance and composure.
Turning to see who had done this to her, she was met with a stinging slap across her face. Her head snapped to the side, and for a moment, she was too shocked to react. When she managed to look up, her eyes met the sharp, unforgiving gaze of her mother-in-law.
The older woman's eyes were cold, and her expression was one of pure disdain. "What do you think you're doing, Charlotte?" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom as she peered into Charlotte's eyes with disgust.
Charlotte blinked, trying to process the sudden shift from anger to fear. "I... I was just-"
"You were just what?" she interrupted, stepping closer, her presence overwhelming. "Going to make a scene? Embarrass my son while he enjoys himself?"
Charlotte swallowed hard, her cheek stinging from the slap. "I can't just stand by and watch him-"
"Watch him what? Be with someone he actually cares about?" she snapped. "Maybe you didn't know what you were getting into when your parents sold you to us with this marriage facade. This is not about love; it's about duty and appearances. If you can't handle that, then perhaps you should reconsider your place here."
Her words cut deep, each one a dagger to Charlotte's already fragile sense of self. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she knew it would be futile. In this family, her voice meant nothing. She was just a pawn in their game, a decorative piece in their twisted idea of perfection.
The fact that she was forced into a marriage with a man she barely knew or loved made everything worse. It was all for her family, as her mother had put it. Her mother had always seen her as a way to get rich from the day she began to understand things. And her father was even worse.
Charlotte's mind flashed back to the moment she walked down the aisle with tears in her eyes. She had seen her mother smiling at her and her father looking happy. The only person who hadn't supported everything was her sister, but there was nothing she could do about it. Charlotte felt bad that her sister's fate might end up like hers.
The first day Charlotte set foot in the mansion, the rules were laid down with a resounding slap from her husband, supported by her mother-in-law. They both treated her like a slave, saying her desperate parents had begged them to accept her.
Her mother would never look her in the eye, and her father only told her to do as they said and that whatever happened to her was no longer his business.
Tears rolled down Charlotte's cheeks as she lowered her gaze, her hand clenched against the hem of her brown long-sleeve shirt.
"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper, though the words tasted bitter on her tongue.
"Sorry isn't good enough," her mother-in-law said, her tone softening just a fraction, but her eyes still cold. "You will go back to your room and stay there until I decide what to do with you."
With that, she released Charlotte's hair, pushing her towards the door. Charlotte stumbled out, her heart pounding, her face throbbing. As she made her way back to her room, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her situation pressing down on her. This wasn't a marriage; it was a prison. And she was trapped.