Chapter 3 Three

I sat in the car, my father's proud smile a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. My mind raced with thoughts of Alessandro, his piercing gaze, and the possessive grip he had on me. I felt like a trapped animal, dressed up and dolled up for the slaughter. The elaborate wedding dress suffocated me, its tight corset and layers of tulle a constant reminder of the prison I was about to enter. My heart pounded in my chest as I thought about the vows I was about to make, the promises to love and obey a man who terrified me.

My father, oblivious to my distress, chatted excitedly about the ceremony, the guests, and the reception. I nodded and smiled, pretending to share his enthusiasm, but my thoughts were consumed by fear and uncertainty. What lay ahead? Would Alessandro's possessiveness turn violent? Would I ever be able to escape? The questions swirled in my mind like a vortex, making my head spin. As the car pulled up to the entrance, my father turned to me, his eyes shining with happiness. "Ready, kiddo?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. I forced a smile, my heart heavy with dread. "Ready," I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. As I stepped out of the car, the bright sunlight and bustling atmosphere of the wedding venue enveloped me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, and began my walk down the aisle alongside my father. My eyes scanned the crowd, taking in the familiar faces of our friends and family, but one person stood out - Alesandro. He stood tall and imposing, his eyes fixed intently on me, his gaze burning with an unnerving intensity. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his chiselled features radiating an aura of power and control. His eyes, however, told a different story - they seemed to bore into my soul, as if daring me to try and escape. As we approached, Alessandro's gaze never wavered, his eyes locked onto mine with an unspoken message: you're mine now. I felt a shiver run down my spine as my father released my hand, and I took my place beside him. The priest began to speak, his words a distant hum as I felt his eyes still fixed on me, his presence suffocating me. I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead, trapped in a marriage with this man who seemed to hold such power over me. As the priest pronounced us husband and wife, I felt a sense of trepidation wash over me. The moment of truth had arrived - the kiss. I had been dreading this moment, fearing Alessandro's lips on mine, his touch, his possessiveness. But instead, he surprised me. He leaned in, his eyes never leaving mine, and gently kissed my cheeks, one and then the other. The soft brush of his lips was almost tender, a stark contrast to the fierce intensity I had expected. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, mixed with confusion. Why had he spared me the intimate kiss? Was it a sign of mercy, or just a calculated move to keep up appearances? As he pulled back, a small smile played on his lips, and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he enjoying my discomfort, my fear? Or was there something more to this enigmatic man? The crowd erupted into applause, and we turned to face them, hand in hand, a perfect facade of happiness and unity. But I knew the truth - I was trapped, bound to this man by vows and circumstance, with no clear escape in sight. As the car pulled away from the wedding venue, I felt a sense of desperation wash over me. I was trapped, married to a man who terrified me, with no clear escape route. I knew I had to think fast, come up with a plan to free myself from this toxic union. I glanced over at him. his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his expression unreadable. I knew I couldn't trust him, couldn't rely on his mercy. I had to take matters into my own hands. My mind raced as I thought of possibilities. I could try to reason with him, appeal to whatever humanity was left in him. But I knew that was a long shot. He had made it clear he wouldn't let me go easily. I thought of running, making a break for it at the next stop. But where would I go? I had no money, no resources, no allies. I was completely at Marco's mercy. As the car sped on, I knew I had to think of something, anything, to escape this nightmare. I couldn't give up, not yet. I would find a way out, no matter what it took. I began to subtly scan my surroundings, taking in every detail of the car, the road, the passing landscape. I knew I had to be prepared, and had to seize any opportunity that came my way. I was a prisoner, but I was determined to break free. I cleared my throat, trying to sound as natural as possible. "Excuse me , I need to use the restroom. Could we please pull over?" Alessandro's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded curtly. "Very well. Enzo, pull over at the next convenient location." Enzo nodded and pulled over a few minutes later. Marco turned to me, his voice firm. "Enzo will accompany you. Don't try anything foolish." I nodded meekly, trying not to show my desperation. As I stepped out of the car, the driver Enzo followed closely behind me. We got to a secluded spot in the woods, my heart racing with anticipation. I had to act fast, before Alessandro became suspicious. As we walked, I pretended to pee and asked for some privacy , using the momentary distraction to grab a nearby rock. I turned to the enzo whose back was turned to me, and swung the rock with all my might. Enzo crumpled to the ground, unconscious. I quickly frisked him, my hands shaking as I retrieved his gun. I hid it under my torn dress, the weight of it a reassuring presence. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I had to make it look like I'd been attacked, or Alessandro would suspect something. I tore my dress further, ripped my hair loose, and smudged dirt on my face. As I made my way back to the road, I tried to look dishevelled and frightened. I knew he would be suspicious, but I hoped my disguise would hold. I had to get back to the car, had to get away from him before he discovered what I'd done. I saw the car in the distance,his eyes scanning the horizon for me. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the act ahead. I had to convince him I was still under his control, still trapped. But I knew the truth - I had a gun, and I was ready to fight back. "ALESSANDRO!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face as I stumbled towards him. I could see the worry etched on his face, his eyes scanning me frantically for any sign of injury. "Amelie, what happened?" he asked, rushing towards me, his voice laced with concern. I sobbed, trying to maintain the charade. "Enzo.....he tried to rape me," I lied, my voice shaking with false fear. His expression darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. "Where is he?" he growled. I pointed back towards the woods, trying to keep up the act. "I hit him...I had to defend myself." Marco's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in rage. "Wait here, Amelie," he said, his eyes still scanning me with concern. "I need to make a call." He turned and started walking towards the direction I had come from, his phone already in hand. I knew this was my chance. I slowly reached under my torn dress, my fingers closing around the gun I had hidden. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I aimed the gun at his back, my heart racing with fear and adrenaline. Then he turned abruptly Alessandro's eyes locked onto the gun in my hand, his expression calm and collected. He didn't flinch, didn't try to run or attack me. He simply stood there, watching me with an unnerving intensity. I expected him to be angry, to try and overpower me, but instead, he seemed almost...amused. His eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving mine, as if he was studying me, waiting for me to make my next move. The silence between us was oppressive, heavy with tension. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my hand trembling slightly as I held the gun. But he just stood there, his eyes fixed on me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wondered if I had underestimated him, if he was more in control than I thought. But I pushed the thought aside, gripping the gun tighter. I had to see this through, and had to take back control of my life. "Get on your knees," I said finally, trying to keep my voice steady. Alessandro raised an eyebrow, but slowly, he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. I could see the calculation in his gaze, the wheels turning as he tried to figure out his next move. But I was ready for him. I had the upper hand now. I pulled the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the air. His hand jerked back, a red stain spreading across his palm. I pulled the trigger again, this time hitting him in the chest. He slumped forward, his eyes wide with shock. I dropped the gun, feeling a mix of emotions: fear, adrenaline, and a sense of liberation. I turned and ran to the car, not looking back. I didn't care if he died or not. I didn't care about the consequences. For once, I was taking control of my life. I started the car and sped away, leaving him behind. I felt a sense of freedom I had never known before. I was finally breaking free from his grasp, from the toxic cycle of abuse and fear. As I drove, I felt a sense of determination wash over me. I would start anew, leave the past behind. I would create a life where I was in control, where I was safe. Tears streamed down my face as I drove, a mix of relief and fear. I knew I had crossed a line, that there was no going back. But I was ready. I was ready to face whatever came next, to fight for my I was doing this for myself, because I deserved to be happy, to be safe, to be loved. I deserved a life where I could thrive, where I could be me without fear of judgement or reprisal. And as I drove into the unknown, I knew that I would face challenges, that I would stumble and fall. But I also knew that I would get back up, that I would keep moving forward. Because I was finally doing something for myself, and that was the most powerful thing of all. As the sun began to set on the second day of my escape, I spotted a motel in the distance. The neon sign creaked in the gentle breeze, reading "Riverview Motel" in faded letters. I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, my eyes heavy from the constant driving. I pulled into the motel's parking lot, the gravel crunching beneath my tires. I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I had made it this far, and now I could finally rest. I grabbed the wand of cash I had seen in the car and stepped out of the car, stretching my stiff limbs. The motel's office was a small, dingy room with a worn counter and a friendly-looking clerk. "Room for the night, please," I said, trying to sound casual despite my frazzled nerves. The clerk nodded, handing me a key. "Room 17. Down the hall to your left." I took the key and made my way to my room. As I entered the motel room, I was met with a scene that made my blood run cold. Four men were lounging on the beds and chairs, their eyes fixed on me with a mixture of curiosity and malice. At first, I thought I had made a mistake, that I had entered the wrong room. "I'm so sorry," I apologised, trying to back out of the room. But it was too late. One of the men was already behind me, his hand clamping down on my shoulder. I felt a sharp pain on my neck, and my vision began to blur. I tried to struggle, but my limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. The last thing I heard was a menacing whisper in my ear: "Sleep well, princess." Everything went black.