Bound By Sins

OPHELIA LAURENT'S POV

"I hate you and that's final." I began stepping backwards. I wanted nothing more than to get away from this beautiful monster, but things never works my way.

I stumbled back into a tray of hot coffee which sat carelessly on his desk, and before the cup of coffee could leave a burn on my skin the monster had caught me by my wrist changing our position and letting the hot liquid fall on his legs instead.

My eyes widened as he hovered over me pinning me to the wall, his gaze on me cold and angry but I still tried to play unconcerned and savage "Getting splashed by the coffee would have been better than standing close to yo...." His hand gripped my throat tightly, and I gasped swallowing the rest of my words.

"Let's see if you'd be able to talk with that mouth of yours when I go balls deep in you throat."

5 YEARS AGO.

Tonight, I wouldn't hold back. I have been studying him for days since I first saw him on our dimly lit patio. I had yet to see his face, but I saw his broad shoulders, fine narrow waist in a crisp black shirt that hugged his body not too tightly but was enough to show the fine bulge of his muscles, and I knew it was him immediately, my husband. The man who had kept himself hidden from me from the beginning of our two fucked up years of marriage.

A hysterical laughter graced my lips, remembering how the clouds had teared up on my behalf as I dressed in a white dress standing on the altar, shivering and lonely with everybody watching as I wore a ring on a dummy's hand, a lifeless replacement for the husband I did not know.

My father felt it was nothing. All my father wanted at that time was money, and fame, knowing his daughter was getting married to a nameless yet super-rich being who had paid Ten Million Dollars, gave him fleets of cars and three estates in Texas in replacement to keep his daughter hostage in a luxurious old mansion.

When I call him 'Anonymous,' 'The wealthy unknown,' and 'nameless,' I mean it. On our marriage certificate, 'Hus' was his first name, and 'Band' was his last 'Hus Band.' I could remember more tears blinding my eyes that day, knowing I had just gotten married to a narcissist, a sadist, and a bully who derives pleasure in mocking others.

He married me just to mock me, I had always thought about that, but my father with his sweet tongue had said my husband was a busy man, but the asshole of a father doesn't know him. This shadow of a husband proved us wrong; the first time I saw his back on the patio, I felt a shudder run down my spine as I watched him wash his hands with the shower head the maids use to water the flowers.

That day, I watched him pause washing his hands for a while and I quickly pulled the curtain close to prevent him from turning back to catch me staring, even though I had the urge to see his face and ask him if he was really the one I married keeping me hostage here for the past two years with guards blocking the large gate.

I came back to that window again, only to find out he had left, and my breathing stopped like my nostrils had been stuck with embalming nasal tubes. Even in the moon's subtle glow, I could see what was written on the wall with dark red paint: "Hey, Little One." My chest had raised like crazy because. I have never seen that there before; my guts tell me it was for me.

And that was not all; the next day after I saw him, I woke up with a scream, tears streaming down my eyes, as I watched fresh blood run down my collarbone right into my cleavage. I didn't get myself until dusk that day. 'It wasn't my blood, I had no cut, then who the fuck owns it.'

I got my answers the night I found out my husband was a murderer, or maybe a body part broker or a cadaver trader. The blood on my cleavage that day, 'was he the one? Had he tried to kill me?' My eyes went wide as I remembered covering my mouth to stop any word from coming out even though I knew I couldn't make one sentence correctly without stuttering after two years of not talking to anyone.

I watched him carefully even with the way he backed me, his back filling the room and I laid flat on the marble floor of the balcony of my room, watching him in the large living room this time. He opens a white box, and my stomach twisted as he held out a fucking severed head of a man still dripping with blood.

My heartbeat quickens remembering that day, and now I was lying on that particular spot of my balcony as I watched him sip from a glass of Vodka I had poured for him, which he had no idea of because I've used a maid, my Ally.

Just tonight, I would escape. I have had everything planned out, and I would never share a life with a man like him, not even when his back can tell how sexy his face and front view would look, or his fine jet-black hair which was visible tonight because of the soft glow of the lanterns.

Anytime he is home the lights from the chandeliers and fancy bulbs go off, leaving these spooky lanterns used for Halloween, maybe to not see him. But now, I'm not interested in seeing him; I am interested in running away from him and getting the happiness I deserve.

I would be that free girl again, the girl these cruel people made me abandon in college Ophelia Laurent, the brain and beauty every man would kill to be with.

After he was done, he left the living room, and I knew where he was headed to, to the opposite wing, where he stayed. The maid, my ally, had informed me about that. I brought out the divorce papers I hid in my chest part and I gulped every damn second as I took the stairs.

Thank God I was in my Ally's uniform with her cap on, which covered my red hair; it would be hard for his dogs to know what was happening.

In four minutes the sedative would start working, and I would get him to sign the divorce papers, I know it's illegal without is consent, but for a person who had paid the huge amount of money to keep me here he wouldn't accept if I had asked him too, I was sure of that. The additional signatures and processing would be done by my friend who is an Attorney.

OPHELIA LAURENT'S POV

Five Years Later

"Hey, you know you are not meant to be here right?" I asked my soon to be husband Klaus, a beautiful smile on my lips as he walks into my smll house at the sea shore.

"I've missed you a lot Ophelia." He caressed my cheek softly, just tomorrow he would be my husband. He would be the man I would learn to love, but my heart starts to hammer with that thought and my thoughts drifted back to him, that night I illegally divorced him.

Those memories rushed back to my mind like it was just yesterday. He slept in a balaclava, his upper chest bare and I almost forgot my mission seeing how hot he looks. What was more shocking to me was that he had my face tattooed all over his body, the tattoo of a woman boobs on his Torso and I felt and assumed it was mine, it nipples had my piercing too.

'How did he know about the piercing on my nipples?' that thought had pierced my damn soul and now I could feel my nipples harden through my clothes. The fucker had been watching me, the thought of it sending chills down my spine then and now, and I think Klaus had noticed my change too.

With the drug in his system, just like my Ally had described it, he couldn't think straight and he signed the papers just as I asked. Even though his eyes still appeared fvcking dull, when he stared at me with those misty grey eyes it pierced down to my core, it was so intimidating that I couldn't keep eye contact.

I left every damn evidence of our divorce on his bed and I escaped the house with the help of my Ally, Sophie, using her clothes to escape the guards through the back door. And after a year of leaving to a secluded part of a country, changing my name where no one could find me, I finally showed up to my father who seems stunned at first.

He had no idea I had ran away from my ex, and I was happy my ex didn't search for me or report my illegal act to any lawful authority, because if he'd try to I would have reported him too. He was a body part broker or maybe a murderer and he had spilled blood of who I don't know who on my cleavage.

With my father lack of knowledge I told him my husband was dead, I told him I finally saw his face and he died over the month and he believed me. He was happy, happy that he would sell me out again to one of his many business men, and here I am with one of 'em Klaus Duncan, son of a rich Texas senator, but he was gentle and I hoped our chemistry would fit when we finally get married.

Klaus had portrayed the gentleman ever since we began dating, he had never touched me sexually because I forbid it until our wedding night; I am a virgin for Christ sake and I had disclosed that secret to my father that made him the happiest man that i hadn't been in sexual contact with my ex, his pay would be huge, but i'm sure not as huge as my Ex, no one would be willing to set down all those payments for me, that was the net worth of a family.

"Would he come for me." Those questions were on my mind after what I'd done, but no he didn't, and I calmed, he had forgotten me or maybe died for real or maybe in prison because he got caught.

"Earth to you soon to be Mrs Ophelia Klaus Duncan." Klaus pinched my chin lightly and I gave him a shaky smile "You know I can wait to put a ring on your finger and call you mine."

"I can't wait to be yours too." The difference was clear I won't be wearing a ring on a dummy this time.

The D-Day is here, the day where my now grown twenty one years old step brother would again give me to a man, he was sixteen the last time he walks me down the aisle and I was on the edge of nineteen.

A gasp tears from my lips as my stylist pulls the corset of my gown tightly around my waist. Now I looked like a doll, my white gowns accentuated my every curves, from the voluptuous swell of my breast down to my tiny waist and the rest swallowed by the flair large skirt.

My long red hair was now tied up in a ballerina bun, my face transformation stunned me. I am a girl who hated fashion, I could wear a sack of potatoe and still fit in, I don't wear make-up except for necessary occasions like this, but I was still loved and lusted on by many in college.

Everything seems good, it looked sunny through the aluminum clad wood windows of my father, yet my heart was covered with fogs beating loudly through it clusters of velvet, dark webs. My hands clammy with sweats, a rush of adrenaline hitting me back and forth and I had not even the slightest idea to why I am scared.

The opening of the door jolts me from my reverie "Ophelia," I heard my step-brother's voice in the room. I turned to Max Laurent in a tux, beach blonde hair styled to the back with a sweet smile on his lips "How do I look?" I twirled as my stylist left the room, blushing as she walked past Max.

"Dashing." He smiled back as he walks up to me with a box in his hand. He had grown a lot, from the boy I play with in the lawn, he had become a man, tall, handsome with fine muscles every lady would fall for.

I am the only daughter of my now late mother and the second of my fathers children. My father had cheated on Mom when she was alive because she had difficulties having a child, she had a miscarriage five times before I came stubbornly, to stay, which I regretted now. Before she could have me, father already had a mistress who had give him a daughter already, a devil of a daughter Elise Laurent who is months older than me.

Two years after having me mom died due cardiac arrest, and Shannel was brought in with her devil daughter who made my life a living hell. Not until Shannel had Max I had no one to call a family "Thank you Max." Thank you for everything.

"I would like to put you in a photocopy machine, I would love my girlfriend to wear you." He said and I chuckled.

"I thought you've grown."

"I'm your baby." He took my hand and placed a kiss on the back of my palm "Oh, I was asked to give you this." He gave me a white box "It was from a delivery guy and I don't know who it's from, check it out, I would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. Bye sis." Max left the room, blowing me another kiss, which I caught playfully, before bringing my attention back to the box.

I had no close friends to have sent this and I haven't been in contact with my college friends ever since graduation. I placed the box on the vanity table and I peeled the tape off it, before pulling the lid open and a gasp left my lips as I fell back seeing the content. My breathing came out hurried and loud through my lips, my chest giving fast rise.

Lying in the box was a severed tongue and chunks of bloody meat, a paper slept on the cause of my stomach tightening.

OPHELIA'S POV

Lying in the box was a severed tongue and chunks of bloody meat, a paper slept on the cause of my stomach tightening.

I couldn't help it; I threw up right on the vanity table, not even waiting to check what was written on the paper "Ophelia." I should have let the person at the doorstep who had called my name see what I saw, I should have reported it, but the silly me chose to cover it up, covering the box with my back.

It was my step-sister Elise Laurent who had walked in, and I could see the look of shock on her face after she noticed the mess I had made on the table "Are you..." she trailed off and if I hadn't been in the situation I would have begun pondering on why she cared, she never loves me anyways, knowing she was about to ask if I was pregnant.

I was scared, my hands trembling, and the care to be a bride was gone after what I had seen. 'Wait, should I still be standing here? shouldn't I check if everyone is all right?' "Is everyone alright?" I asked Elise, waiting for her usual nonchalant attitude but she looked confused instead.

"Are you alright? I was asked to come get you ready, and here you are, all flushed and weird." Elise frowned and I tried to behave as normal as possible.

"L...let's go." I hide the box with a towel and Elise came to help with the train of my gown. She was my supposed bridesmaid dressed in blue because my father wouldn't let me have friends of my own.

I was grateful to my stylist who had suggested wearing flat heels. My legs were unstable as I walked down the aisle, with Max beside me, our elbows locked.

Right in front of me was Klaus in a fine tux who stood with a smile on the altar and a priest getting ready to pronounce us 'Husband and Wife.'

I tried to calm my damn nerves, why do I feel this would be my damnation instead of salvation.

After making sure I got on the altar with my soon-to-be husband, Max left. Leaving me to stare into the deep blue eyes of Klaus. His lips stretched in a warm smile and I smiled back at him.

The priest starts his opening remarks "Dear beloved, we are gath...." Klaus raised a brow to know if I was all right, and I nodded softly. 'I was not; I had just seen the most insane thing of all on my wedding day.'

"Klaus Duncan, do you take Ophelia Laurent to be your wife, to love and cherish her, through joy and sorrow in sickness and in health, 'til death do you apart?" A little flower girl walks up to us with the rings, with a sweet smile on her face.

"I.." Just Before Klaus could pronounce those words that would bind him to me, a gunshot rang in the hall, and the side of Klaus's head created a small hole with blood spouting out of it, his eyes went hollow, and the smile on his face earlier had gone dead.

It all came to me, a scream erupted from my lips, my voice echoing through the church as Klaus's lifeless body slumped against me. Blood coated my gown and I couldn't help the clattering of my teeth as I shivered greatly.

"And death has done you apart." The once serene atmosphere had erupted into Chaos as the sudden scream of guests filled the air, and I couldn't just turn to know what had happened or the deep voice that had made that statement earlier or who had just shot Klaus.

It was like my soul had left me at that moment like my body had gone paralyzed.

"Ophelia." I heard an unfamiliar, deeply masculine voice a few steps away from where I stood with Klaus's blood bathing my dress red. "Look at me now, or your brother's head would be served to you on a golden platter."

And that threat got to me; I crawled out of my trance, and I came face to face with an insanely handsome man standing at the end of the stairs to the altar. His aura spoke of the devil; jet black hair, which reminded me of someone, was brushed to the back as he stood defiantly in a tux, with a dead rose in his chest pocket. The three buttons of his chest were left undone, giving a view of the tail of a viper; the viper's mouth opened wide against the man's throat.

"Who the fu...." Before my brother Max could complete his sentence, another man who had a striking resemblance to the one standing on the steps that led to the altar in front of me had grabbed Max by his throat. Max struggled in the larger man's grasp, but his grip only tightened as the man holding him smirked at me. "Hey, sister-in-law." He mouthed.

"Let him go," I yelled, pushing myself away from Klaus, whose body slid to the floor immediately. Taking the hem of my gown in my hands, I took the stairs, wanting to save my brother, forgetting about the rest of my family, who also had men holding them captive. Max meant a lot to me; I hurt when he did; it was like I was the one being strangled instead.

Just before I could walk past the man on the stairs to my brother, I was pulled by my waist and slammed brutally into a rock-hard chest. "I was talking, Ophelia." The man in a tux yanks my hair back so I could look into his cold gray eyes which spoke a lot about him, vicious, cold and more.

I struggled in his grip, but he only gripped my hair tighter, and I saw a light smirk on his lips. "Always trying to escape from me, baby."

Hot tears fell from my eyes, and a surge of anger rolled like a ball in me, and I spat in his face. A laugh that felt like the rumbling of thunder and starting of a storm erupted from his throat; his hand around my waist suddenly came to my cheeks, pinching my mouth open and his head inches closer and I watched him do the most disgusting thing ever. He spat right into my mouth, forcing me to gulp it down. "You motherfu...." He dips his middle finger down my throat making me gag on it as my spits poured down the side of my lips.

"Mine." A deadly smile curved on his lips as he watched me struggle. "I have always wished this was my fucking cock; you have made me even more insane fucking you in every damn dream; you have made me wait for so long, Anima mia (my soul)." More tears trailed down my eyes as he dipped a second finger down my throat making me gag even more.

"Fuck baby fuck.." this man was insane, but his insanity was surprisingly doing things to me; I could feel my core aching, and I could feel my nipples pushing hard against my cloth. I was fucked up, I bit hard on his hand, and he didn't flinch; I bit harder, wanting to hear the crackling sound of his bones breaking in my mouth, but I didn't hear the feel before a cry of pain wrecked through my lips.

He yanked my hair harder until I felt blood rushing to my face and I inadvertently released his finger. A slap came on my cheeks later on; it burnt like crazy. "Empty a gun in her father's body." he ordered.

I looked to my side where my father, step-sister, and stepmom were kneeling with black clothing wrapped around their mouth as they struggled to get free from the ropes tied on their wrists and feet. At their back was the priest standing with a gun pointed to his head.

A man had walked up to my father as he brought a gun out from his waist holster, and my father's eyes came to look at me pleadingly. "I. I am sorry, I wouldn't do it again." I choked out those words.

"Yes, you won't do it again baby, but I need to teach you a little lesson." He caressed the hair on my face to the back of my ear.

"No, please." My heart hammered as I watched that man cock the gun "Let my family go; who are you?" I cried wishing the devil standing in front of me could feel pity. No, what the fuck am I thinking 'Pity?' a person who had killed a man right on the altar? I was talking to a person who had lost his sanity.

With all my pleading, the sound of a gun still echoed in the church, and I panicked, seeing my father's face scrunched in pain. My father had been shot in his left thigh, and the man was ready again 'to empty the bullet' just like this man had ordered, "It doesn't hurt, I promise; he is just overdoing it." The fucker in front of me said, unfazed, that one of his men was about to kill a human, my father.

"Do you think you can run away from the cops when they know what you have done here, Look.." I gulped. "My fiance's family would haunt you down; you would end up in prison, you and your men because I won't let you go either."

"Baby, you won't even let me go by the time I am done with you." The devil's voice came out seductive "And your fiance's family, I had set their car on fire before they could make it here, you would love to waste more lives if you call the cops, and I would love it, baby, I would put a gun in your hand and make you end them one by one." His hand grazed my hips and I hated the way that made me feel.

"Tell me what you want. Who the fuck are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Shh!! Little One shh." He coaxed, pressing his index finger against my lips. 'Little one.' Those words felt familiar. My eyes widened, thinking of the possibility. "Do you remember now, baby? Do you remember the man you left years ago? Baby girl you ditched me and you think I would be happy seeing you on the altar with another."

My body felt like tissues; my heartbeat quickened in fear, shock, and all other emotions. "You are mine baby, but you left." his voice sounded low, like he grieved I did.

And again, I was filled with anger. "I was never yours, and I would never be yours," I said through gritted teeth after learning the truth that the man standing in front of me was my ex-husband. His gaze went cold again and his hand came to pinch my chin again 'Why did he show up?' ''Why was he showing his face to me now? I thought it was something I wasn't meant to see?'

"You don't have a choice, you can't change fate."

A sarcastic laughter burst out of my throat. "You are insane; you think you can lock me up and make fun of me on our wedding day and never show up, be a pervert, and draw tattoos of my face and boobs on your body. You are sick." I wished to spit again at his face, but I stopped myself.

He released me "Let's have the wedding again." He said, now backing me, and a lady

walked up to us with two rings on a pillow. "Hey, sister-in-law, I can't wait for you to be my brothers Moglie (wife)."