Chapter 2 TRAPPED IN WHITE

Chapter 2

Ariana's POV

Walking down the red carpet has always been my dream. But not like this-forced into a marriage I never wanted, to a man everyone hates. A man I once met, my worst nightmare.

I sat before the mirror, staring at my reflection as they applied makeup to my face. I was supposed to be happy, but all I felt was an unbearable sadness.

I sat there, numb, unable to think of a way out. It wasn't as if escaping was possible. Still, I clung to a faint, foolish hope that something might save me.

I'm in this mess because of my aunt's greed.

"It's done," the makeup artist announced, her voice devoid of sympathy.

"Can I be alone?" I asked, even though I knew they wouldn't leave. They had been instructed not to let me out of their sight.

"We can't leave you, ma'am," the woman replied stiffly.

"I just need a little time to myself. Please," I pleaded, locking eyes with her, silently begging her to grant me this small mercy.

To my surprise, she relented and walked out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, I jumped to my feet and hurried to the window, peering outside. I scanned for anyone-any way to escape-but my heart sank when I realized there was no way out.

Before I could do more, the door creaked open, and there he stood. Raymond.

"Trying to escape?" he asked, his cold eyes narrowing as he stepped into the room.

I instinctively backed away until my back hit the wall. There was no escaping now.

"Don't even think about it, darling," he said, emphasizing the word with a mocking edge.

"You can't get away from me. There's no place in this city you can hide. The whole of New York belongs to me. So, tell me, how exactly do you plan to escape?"

He smirked, his expression taunting me.

"Don't you want to marry me? Aren't you the one carrying my child?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me by placing a finger on my lips.

"Shhh. You don't get to speak. You'll do as I say. You'll get what you want. But don't try to escape again. Don't make me angry." His voice turned icy, sending a shiver down my spine.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear.

"You don't want to see me angry, do you?" he whispered.

Then, as abruptly as he had come in, he walked toward the door.

"Everyone is waiting for the bride. Don't keep me waiting, darling," he said with a twisted smile before disappearing.

I sank back into the chair, letting the tears I'd been holding in spill freely. They rolled down my cheeks, smudging the makeup.

I never wanted this.

This is my story.

My name is Ariana.

I lost both my parents in a car accident when I was 15 years old-a day I wish I could erase from my memory. That day haunts me because I was the cause of the accident. Ever since then, I've lived with my aunt, a woman who would do anything for money.

She's the one who dragged me into this nightmare. She forged a fake pregnancy report and told everyone I was carrying Raymond's child. She claimed he was refusing to take responsibility.

The truth? I had only met Raymond once. It was when I was working at a bar. I accidentally spilled a drink on him, and that brief encounter was the extent of our interaction.

We had nothing between us. Not even a conversation, let alone a relationship or a pregnancy.

Yet, here I was, forced to marry the most dangerous man in the city because of my aunt's lies. And now, there was no escape.

I was still lost in thought when the door opened, revealing the makeup artists. They gasped as soon as they saw my tear-streaked face.

"Your makeup is ruined," one of them said, her voice laced with concern. Without waiting for a response, they hurried over and began retouching it, their hands moving swiftly as if to erase any evidence of my despair.

Before they could finish, my aunt swept into the room, her dramatic presence filling the space.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest as if she were the one overwhelmed.

"They're waiting for you outside," she added, her tone impatient. Without waiting for me to respond, she reached for my arm and helped me up from the chair, steering me toward the door like a doll she was dressing for display.

The ceremony was a blur. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked down the aisle, every step feeling like I was marching toward my doom.

The guests whispered among themselves, their eyes full of judgment and curiosity. I could hear snippets of their murmurs:

"She's so lucky to marry Raymond Ray."

"Does she even know what she's getting into?"

"She doesn't look happy. Who would be?"

I wanted to scream that this wasn't my choice, that I didn't want this life. But I kept my head down, clutching the bouquet tightly, trying to stop my trembling hands.

When I reached the altar, Raymond was standing there, his face expressionless. He looked at me with those cold, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"You look beautiful, darling," he said softly, his voice laced with mockery.

I didn't respond. I couldn't. My throat was dry, and the weight of the situation pressed down on me like a boulder.

The officiant began the ceremony, and every word felt surreal. My mind screamed for me to run, but my body was frozen. When it came time for Raymond to say his vows, his words were sharp and deliberate, like he was delivering a warning instead of a promise.

"I, Raymond Ray, take you, Ariana, to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer... until death do us part."

He locked eyes with me on the last words, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. My heart sank. He meant every word.

When it was my turn to speak, my voice was barely a whisper.

"I... I do."

The guests erupted into applause, but all I heard was the sound of my life shattering into pieces

After the ceremony, Raymond wasted no time asserting his control.

The reception was grand, filled with people I didn't know and didn't care to meet. Raymond stood by my side, his hand resting possessively on my lower back. Every time someone congratulated us, he would flash them a charming smile, as if this was a love story and not the twisted nightmare it truly was.