Chapter 5 The Wedding

DEBORAH'S P.O.V

Father hit my head against the wall with a loud thud. Pain exploded behind my eyes.

I had it all calculated. By this time tomorrow, I'd be registered in my classes at Stanford.

But he caught me.

"Where do you think you're going, Deborah?" Father's voice was low, venomous. His fingers dug into my arm, nails biting my skin.

"Off to lay with your lover like a harlot? Is that what you've become?"

"I'm... I'm not-" I gasped. "I'm not running away to meet a man. I told you-I can't marry Jethro. I want to go to school."

His laugh was cold. Mocking.

"With your dirty money? You whore. Did you earn it on your back? Sleeping around like the filthy Jezebel you are?"

Tears burned, but I forced them down. My heart slammed against my ribs. His fingers dug into my arm as he pulled me down the empty church hallway. My wrist burned where his ring scratched my skin.

"Father, wait-"

He didn't.

"Stop dragging me like a goat to slaughter." My voice cracked, but I held on to it.

"Whose will did you and Jethro agree on? Is that why you're-"

The slap came so fast I didn't see it. Pain exploded on the other side of my face. My head snapped to the side. I tasted blood.

"Enough." His voice was calm. Too calm.

I pressed my palm to my cheek, my knees weak. "I have a right to ask-"

"You have no rights!" His eyes blazed with something unholy.

"You think because you've been spreading your legs for some man you can question me? You think sleeping around makes you a woman now?"

I flinched. "That's not true. I haven't-"

He grabbed my jaw, fingers digging into my skin until my teeth ached.

"Listen to me, Deborah. You are a child. A child under my authority. God placed me as head over this house. And you-" he jerked my face closer, his breath hot with rage, "you are dust. A vessel. You don't get to choose."

My throat tightened. I hated the tears stinging my eyes.

"This isn't about God," I whispered. "It's about control. You're-"

His hand lifted again. I flinched hard this time, but he only pointed a shaking finger in my face.

"You will thank God I am a merciful man. If Jethro didn't care for unmarked flesh, I would beat the rebellion out of you right here."

I swallowed the scream clawing up my throat.

"You're going to marry Jethro," he said, voice low and final. "You will give him sons. You will carry our legacy like the handmaid you are."

His grip loosened enough for me to pull back.

"I don't want this," I breathed. "I have my own money. My own plans-"

"Your plans are dust," he cut me off. "A man's duty is to rule. A woman's is to submit. That's the natural order."

I pressed my lips together. The fight drained out of me like water from a broken jar.

"Good," he said, smoothing his jacket like nothing happened. "Now dry your face. You will smile when we walk in. My daughter will not shame me before the congregation."

I nodded stiffly. My cheek throbbed. My soul felt even worse.

I swallowed the scream rising in my throat.

"Please, Father..."

"Do not test my mercy, Deborah."

My voice barely came out. "Yes, Father."

"Good girl." His hand left my face. "Now smile. It's your wedding day."

He offered his arm like a gentleman. I didn't take it. So he grabbed my wrist again. Harder this time.

"Let's go. The hour of covenant has come."

He dragged me out of the room. My dress felt like a noose. Each step toward the church hall was heavier than the last.

The doors opened. Faces turned. Hymns filled the air.

Father's hand was like iron on my arm.

"You will honor your vows, Deborah," he whispered. "God demands it."

I nodded stiffly. My stomach churned. My breath came in shallow bursts.

At the altar, Jethro smiled like a snake. His eyes roamed my body.

I wanted to scream, but my lips stayed shut.

Father placed my hand in Jethro's.

"She's all yours."

Jethro squeezed hard. "You'll make a fine wife."

I didn't answer. My pulse thundered in my ears.

The pastor began the vows.

"Is there any reason why this two should not be joined in holy matrimony. Speak now or forever hold your peace?"

God please. Help me. My life can't end like this.

Silence.

Then-

Bang!

A bullet ripped the air. Screams echoed. My body froze.

The doors crashed open. Men in black poured in.

My breath caught in my throat as one man walked through the middle like he owned the air.

Mikael.

His eyes locked on me. Cold. Burning.

"I object," his voice boomed. "On the grounds that the bride is a whore."

Gasps. Chaos.

Father's face turned red. He looked colder and more dangerous now.

My heart screamed before I could move.

He looked at me once. Just once.

My father's hand shot out beside me.

"What the hell is this?" he barked. "You have no right-"

He stopped at the sight of Mikael.

"Stand up, Pastor David Daniels," Mikael said, his voice sharp and commanding.

My father stood slowly.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, Don Sinister?"

My blood froze.

Don Sinister? He was the Don?

I slept with the Don?

No. No. No. No.

The room was silent. I felt like someone had dropped ice into my veins.

I blinked, trying to make sense of what he just said.

"What are you talking about?" my father snapped.

Sinister looked at me again-this time not with the softness from before, but with something else.

"Oh, you didn't know?" he said. "Your daughter spent all of last night pleasing me. Fortunately for you, she's quite the seductress."

My heart dropped. Every part of me wanted to scream. I didn't know. I had no idea who he was or what this was about. But the words wouldn't come.

My mother covered her mouth. My father went pale. And Jethro-Jethro looked smug.

"I want her," Sinister said, with a cruel finality that cut deeper than anything I'd ever heard.

Jethro stood in front of me.

"You can't just barge in here-"

Sinister's gun was out before anyone could blink.

"Sit down, puppet."

Jethro sat down on the bare altar floor. No one questioned it.

"Your daughter gave herself to me," Sinister continued, his voice slow and cruel. "A virgin bride."

He looked right at me then. Right through me.

"I've decided that you don't deserve any form of happiness anymore. So I'll be taking her."

Ice spread through my veins.

"What?" I whispered.

My mother gasped. My father looked like he'd been slapped.

I wanted to disappear. I clutched the edge of the table, my throat tightening.

He lied. He had to be lying. Didn't he?

Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away.

"I didn't know who you were," I said, voice trembling. "You didn't tell me."

"You didn't ask."

I shook my head. "You don't know me."

"I know where I found you."

"I needed the money!"

His eyes narrowed. Then he laughed.

He turned to my father.

"You have two options," Sinister said calmly, flexing his gun. "I kill you... or she comes with me. Tonight. And you'll never see her again."

My mother cried out.

"No!" Jethro yelled. "She's not going anywhere with that bastard-"

He fell straight like a tree. A bullet lodged in his forehead. A sniper. He didn't get to finish his sentence.

"Kneel." Sinister's voice cut through the heavy air like a blade.

Father froze. His fingers twitched at his sides. I felt his pride cracking like glass in his silence.

"I said kneel, Pastor." Sinister's tone was calm. Too calm.

"Beg me not to take her. Let's see if that moves me."

Father's jaw clenched tight. His nostrils flared as he stared at Sinister, but the Don's cold eyes never wavered. The men behind Sinister shifted slightly, guns still in hand, waiting.

"This is absurd." Father's voice was strained, low. "I am a man of God. I kneel for no-"

A gun cocked. Sinister's right-hand man stepped closer.

"Do it," Sinister said calmly. "Or I'll put a bullet in her head first, then yours. Your church can preach over your corpses."

My father's shoulders stiffened. For the first time, I saw it-fear. Real, raw fear in his eyes.

Slowly, he dropped to his knees on the marble floor. His hands curled into fists. His head bowed low, but not in prayer.

"Good." Sinister's lips curved in a faint, cruel smile. "Now beg."

"Please..." Father's voice was hoarse. "Please don't take her. She's my daughter. My responsibility."

Sinister tilted his head, watching him like a predator savoring the kill.

"Louder."

Father swallowed hard. "Please. I beg you. Leave her. She doesn't belong in your world."

For a long moment, the room held its breath.

Then Sinister laughed. Low. Dark.

"You really thought that would work?" His words dripped amusement. "You crawl on your knees like a dog, and I should reward you? No."

Father's head snapped up. His face flushed red-humiliation and rage burning in his eyes.

Sinister took a step closer.

"She's mine now. Kneel all you want, Pastor. Pray all you want. It won't save her."

He turned his gaze to me, cold and claiming.

"Get up," he said to Father. "You're pathetic."

Father's hands shook as he stood. He didn't meet my eyes.

Sinister smirked.

"I'll make her kneel too... but not in prayer."

"You can't do th-"

"I'm not here to argue," he said finally, pulling out a gun and pointing it at my father.

My mother screamed.

"No-please-don't!" I cried out, moving in front of my dad.

He pulled the trigger, but aimed low. My father dropped with a scream, clutching his shoulder.

"Stop!" I

begged, turning to Sinister. "Please. I'll go with you."

He stared at me for a long time. Everyone was watching. My mother sobbed over my father. Jethro shouted something I didn't hear.

Sinister didn't blink.

"I said I'll go with you," I said again, louder this time.

Sinister looked at me. Really looked. Then, in one swift move, he lifted me effortlessly over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

"I can walk," I said, voice shaking. "Put me down," I whispered. "Please."

"No."

He turned and walked through the chaos, out the church doors, his men following.

And as if for the grand finale, he slapped my butt-hard.

"Mine," he said.