Chapter 2 HER PAIN

Charlotte sat on the bed, tears streaming down her face as the entire scenario replayed in her mind. Everything she had been through since walking into the Beckett mansion weighed heavily on her, all the suffering she had endured with no hope of escape.

She remembered the first time she tried to escape. Caught by her mother-in-law, she was dragged back to her room and left there to starve. The worst part was the isolation-she had no one to talk to, no one to share her pain with. She was utterly alone.

The creaking sound of the door pricked her nerves, jolting her up from the bed as she watched Nicholas walk in. His muscular body reminded her of the pain she felt on their wedding night when he had pinned her to the wall and forcefully violated her.

She cringed as he walked closer. "My mother told me you were sneaking up on me when I was having my moment with the woman I love," he hissed.

Nicholas took her hand and pulled her close, his warm breath fanning her face as he used his other hand to press her against his rock-hard body. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him in fear.

"You just don't know your place, Charlotte," he said with a smug smile. "Let me remind you, you're nothing but a poor soul that your parents sold to get rich. Your father begged me to accept you, so get it stuck in your head and never try to interrupt my pleasure again."

Tears rolled down her cheeks at his words as fear enveloped her. The force he applied to her ankle made it sore.

He tightened his grip, and she winced. "Understand?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

She nodded, unable to speak, her body trembling with a mix of fear and helplessness.

"Good," he said, finally releasing her. She stumbled back, catching herself on the edge of the bed.

He straightened his tie, his expression returning to one of cold indifference. "Remember, Charlotte, you're here to serve this family. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Why do I have to serve your family?" The words protruded from her mouth before she could stop them.

Nicholas blinked in shock. "What did you say?" Before she could respond, a resounding slap struck her face, and she immediately lowered her gaze to the ground.

He pinned her to the wall, his hand pressing against her arms as she struggled. "You dare question me?" he growled, his face inches from hers, his breath hot and furious. "You will serve this family because you have no choice. Your family is nothing without us."

His grip tightened, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. She whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling with fear and anger.

"You think you can defy me, Charlotte?" he sneered. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

He released one of her arms, only to grab her chin roughly, forcing her to look into his cold, menacing eyes. "You will do as you're told, or you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?"

She nodded weakly, her voice caught in her throat. The defiance that had momentarily surfaced was now buried under a wave of terror.

He released her, stepping back with a look of disgust. "Remember your place," he spat, then pushed her away from the wall and forcefully onto the bed. His fingers went down her pantyline, and she tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He came back with force, his hands roving over her body. She looked around for a way to escape but found none.

"You're my wife, Charlotte. That means I have the right to touch you how I want," he whispered, his body still pressed against hers.

She squirmed, trying to twist away from his grasp, but it was futile. His weight pinned her down, and his breath was hot and oppressive against her skin. Desperation surged within her as she tried to block out his words, his touch, everything.

"Stop," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, Nicholas, stop."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed in the room. "Begging won't help you, Charlotte. You're mine, and you'll do as I say."

A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and rage. This wasn't love; it was possession. She was nothing more than an object to him, a thing to be controlled and used.

"Why do you do this?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling. "Why do you enjoy hurting me?"

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something human-regret, perhaps, or doubt. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold, unfeeling mask he wore so well.

"Because I can," he said simply, as if that justified everything.

In that moment, something within her hardened. The fear was still there, but it was joined by a growing resolve. Summoning strength she didn't know she had, Charlotte pushed Nicholas away. He came back at her, but this time she managed to kick him hard and started to run. Barefoot on the cold marble floor of the mansion's spiral stairs, she sprinted down.

"What do you think you're doing, Charlotte?" Nicholas groaned, chasing after her. Despite his pursuit, she didn't stop-she kept running.

At that moment, all Charlotte cared about was escaping the Beckett mansion, breaking free from their vicious torture. She burst through the mansion's exit door and continued running with all her strength.

Before she knew it, she was out on the street, with Nicholas close behind. "Do you think you can escape, Charlotte? I own you!" he shouted as he chased after her.

The late-night streets were dark and deserted, with barely anyone around to hear her cries for help. Her feet started to ache from the relentless sprint. Suddenly, a bright light shone ahead, and she saw a speeding car heading straight toward her.

In that split second, Charlotte felt the impact of the car against her body, and then everything went black as she collapsed to the ground.