The Bargain: President's Slave Bride

"Is it over?" Racheal Rana asked

"Yes." Maxwell responded, and she ran into his arms happily. She hugged him tight, the moment felt surreal.

There had been rumors that the war that had raged the country for five years was coming to an end.

Even Maxwell, a palace guard high up in the presidential palace had told her as much, but it had been almost too much to hope for.

"It feels surreal. Now we can leave and really live" she said softly withdrawing from the embrace.

"That is what I came to talk to you about." Maxwell said.

"Really?" Racheal said, half jumping excitedly. "Would we leave today?" She asked in nervous excitement.

Maxwell led the way to one of the sofas in her luxuriously furnished room and sat down. She hurriedly followed and took a seat beside him.

She returned her gaze to his face expectantly. And for the first time, she had a feeling that something was terribly wrong.

"Maxwell" Racheal said with a little dread. He was avoiding her eyes, and he was sweating despite the cool air conditioning in her room.

"There is no good way to say this. I am calling this quits." He said.

"You are quitting your position." She said expectantly, because that had been the plan. He quits his position and they elope together to another country to start a family.

But the question sounded foolish even to her own ears. Maxwell would not look so uncomfortable if he was sticking to the plan.

"No. I am calling our relationship quits." He said, turning to finally face her. "We cannot go on with the plan."

Racheal felt herself caving in "You promised." She said, the feeling of being betrayed twisting her guts.

"You promised. This was what I had looked forward to for years, this is the only reason I went on living." She added. "You cannot change your mind."

"It's impossible. You will find some other man. You will find happiness." He said standing up.

"You swore you loved me, you promised to continue loving me." She said, feeling the heat of her unshared tears beginning to burn the back of her throat now.

"How can you love me and want to abandon me in this situation? Why give me a will to live and then take it away?" She asked angrily.

Then she paused, and her eyes widened. "Did someone find out about us, are you being threatened?" She asked moving close to him.

"No." He said forcefully, stepping back. He looked offended at her words.

"Then what is it? Why this sudden decision. I saw you two days ago and all was fine." She said in frustration.

"Was it?" He asked with a bitter smile.

"Maxwell, why are you acting this way? Please tell me." She said, and lost control over her tears. They flowed freely, but she felt no shame, this was still Maxwell.

This was Maxwell who knew her darkest thoughts and the depth of her embarrassing reality.

She finally came to the realisation.

"You do not want to be involved in all these anymore right? The presidential family drama is too much for you, and why send yourself to exile over the unwanted daughter of all his children." She said.

From the way he continued watching her silently she realised she was not far from the truth.

He was no longer defensive.

She sat back heavily on the couch. She never knew this day would come. Not even for one minute, in her moments of doubt did she think of this possibility.

She feared their getting caught, she feared an accident killing them on their way, or their being condemned to a life of poverty, and even those were not so terrifying because Maxwell would be with her.

Never did she think he would back out.

"You will find happiness again Racheal." He said, sounding a little sad.

Not sweet Racheal. My sweet Racheal was what he had always called her. He turned to leave.

"Don't go." She said, "Please!" She cried. He did not even break his stride.

She hurriedly got up and crumbled to the floor, clutching his foot.

She could already feel the darkness swallowing her, a shiver went through her body at the thought of her fate if she let him walk out that door.

She clung to his foot desperately.

"Please don't go. I beg you. Please". She cried as he struggled to pull his leg away. "Take pity on me, you know the life you are condemning me to." She pleaded.

He leaned down and forcefully pushed her away, finally setting himself free. He hurried out the door like the devil himself was chasing him.

Racheal remained at that spot and sobbed. Heart wrenching sobs that shook her whole body.

She cried and cried, she cried for her late mother, she cried for the life she could have had, she cried for Maxwell and the life by his side she just lost.

Twice, her personal maids came in and tried to pull her up but she fought them off her.

She finally stood up as the sun began to set outside. She could still hear all the noise from the crowd outside.

Her maid came in with a cup of tea and turned on the television.

Racheal stared at the cup for a long time, remembering her teenage days. When her step-mother would have her confined to her room like she did now, but would strictly order that no food be brought up to her. And Racheal would starve and starve.

And now that she was older, although she was rarely starved, she still faced these confinements.

Whenever her step-mother was angry about something, anything at all she would send out palace guards to go seize her anywhere in the city she was.

They would bring her back to the palace and lock her up in her room while her father pretended to be blind and deaf to the situation.

He did nothing too when his wife blacklisted her from getting a job anywhere in the country.

Light flashes from the TV interrupted her thoughts. She slowly turned to see her father firmly shaking the president of the country they had been at war with.

She read the banner on the screen and went cold.

The both presidents promised to join their son and daughter in marriage to further unite both countries, and assure the countrymen that the war was truly over.

Racheal waited nervously the whole night and most part of the next morning for her father's return.

As the president's daughter she understood politics, and could not share in the joy of her countrymen.

This proposed marriage was no beautiful union or an example to emulate as the local and international media was making it out to be.

She was sitting out on the balcony when she heard heavy boots approaching from within her room.

She stood up in panic when she saw the white uniforms and black hats. Two men reached out and grabbed her arm, while the third man said,

"We are here to escort you Miss. Your father ordered you'd be brought up immediately." Racheal recognised him as the chief guard in charge of her father's personal security.

"But I am not even properly dressed." She argued weakly as they half dragged her out from the balcony into her room. She had only grey shorts and a black tank top on.

The men completely ignored her protests and practically marched her up to her father's suite in the villa.

They opened the heavy gold doors and mildly pushed her in, but her flip flops caught in the carpet and she fell in, face first.

She knew people were in the room, because the air felt thick with hostility. But no one uttered any words of sympathy or asked if she was ok.

She dragged herself up and felt her ankle explode in pain. She bit her lips hard and stifled her groan. She slowly limped toward a seat and bowed in greeting to her father and then her step-mother.

Her step-mother stood tall, leaning against the chair her father sat.

Even now at almost forty five, she was slim, and had beautiful porcelain skin. She had a tall carriage and a beautiful face that was rumoured to have got her the position of her father's mistress.

Well, till she became the legal wife, overthrowing her mother.

She was looking at Rachel haughtily now, like she was some disgusting animal. Her father nodded in acknowledgment to her greeting.

"Sit." He said. "I called you all here for an important issue."

"Does she have to be here?" Her step-mother said, and both her daughter's faces mirrored their mother's disapproval. They hated sharing the same space with Racheal.

"I suspect you saw the news on television before I got back." Her father continued, ignoring the interruption.

He looked around the room, first at Claire, Celia and then Racheal. "I have promised my daughter in marriage to that President's only son.

"Although I refrained from naming any one of you in particular, ideally that daughter should be you, Claire." He said looking directly at Claire who squirmed beneath his gaze. "You are my first child."

"No. My daughter cannot do that." Racheal's step-mother said fiercely, moving away from her husband.

"And why is that?" He asked. Racheal realised he was playing games. Her father liked to act the democrat, giving everyone an option, a chance to share an opinion but will in the end do things the way he originally planned.

"You know the upcoming marriage is just a sham. They need a hostage to keep, an important hostage so that our country behaves. We lost the war." Her step mother said.

"We did not lose. We sued for peace."

"There's no difference. They need a hostage because they see us as weak, Roni."

"I am not stupid." Her father said, and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. "And you will not tell me how to manage my country Roslyn."

Her stepmother glared at him, then slowly bowed her head and kept quiet.

"You will marry the president's son Racheal." He said, suddenly turning to her.

From her experience so far she should not have been surprised, but she was regardless.

Did they hate her so much?

They literally just said the other country needed a hostage decorated as a wife, and they were now choosing her instead of the eldest daughter.

Claire and Celia saw the look on her face and began to giggle.

"Don't look so distraught. It is more than an honour to do this for your family." Roslyn Rana said.

"Then why would you want to deprive your daughters of such honour?" Racheal found herself saying before she could stop.

Roslyn marched across the room and smacked her hard across her cheek.

"You will never speak to me in that manner." She said, looking at her with utter disgust.

"Why shouldn't I?" Racheal asked with watering eyes as her cheek stung. "What else is there to lose?"

Roslyn smacked her again, this time her diamond ring cut through Racheal's skin. Her father only said. "We cannot give them a bride with a ruined face Roslyn."

"Nothing a little bit of make-up cannot cover." Her stepmother hissed.

"Why do you hate me so much, what did I ever do to you." Rachael was past caring. She had lost everything, her freedom, Maxwell, and she knew there was no way she could stop this marriage.

But her stepmother ignored her.

"Is there anything else you want to tell her?" Roslyn asked, turning back to her husband. "I cannot stand the sight of her."

He cleared his throat. "A doctor will come examine you tomorrow, they want a pure and chaste bride." Roni Rana said. Her stepmother returned her gaze to Racheal with a sneer.

"We can hope you have not sullied yourself?" She asked, the disgust on her face becoming deeper.

"Why? Because you fear children cannot possibly pass the test. As they are YOUR daughters." Racheal retorted. Offended and embarrassed that they would question something so private.

Of all people who would regard her with disgust, Roslyn? An infamous mistress?

Racheal felt the blow on the side of head. Till date, she would never be able to tell what weapon her step-mother hit her with.

Lights exploded in her eyes, she fell to the floor and passed out.

Rachel did not wake up until many hours later. She opened her eyes to a doctor bent over her.

Her mind traveled back to the conversation with her father and she sprang up, and withdrew in fright.

Her head began pounding in protest.

"Relax." The doctor cooed. "I am glad you are up. How does your head feel?" Racheal looked at the woman with distrust.

"I have a terrible headache." She said,

"That was expected, the blow to your head was quite..." The woman paused with an uncomfortable smirk. "Bad." She added. "How is your vision?"

Racheal slowly removed her gaze from the doctor's face and looked around. "Fine." She announced.

The room looked a little hazy but she suspected it was because she had been out for so long.

"How long was I unconscious?" She asked.

"About six hours." The doctor responded. "You should really not be receiving blows like this. They are very dangerous."

"You should tell HER that." Racheal said.

She had been maltreated for years. Roselyn would hit her violently, and sometimes when she felt unsatisfied, she instructed one of the guards to hit Racheal while she watched.

"Avoid her face." She would always say. Perhaps she was too angry today to care. She hated anyone reminding her of her past as a home wrecker.

"Tell me what?" She heard her stepmother say as she walked closer. Racheal felt an involuntary shiver go through her body.

How did she walk in unnoticed?

The doctor hurriedly stood up and bowed in greeting. "Madam first lady."

Roslyn did not even pay her a glance.

She continued walking and stopped just beside Rachel's bed. She roughly grabbed Racheal's face and examined it.

"Will she scar?" She asked, still without looking at the doctor.

"Not with the lotions I brought." The woman picked them up jerkinly from a nearby table to show the first lady.

Roslyn took one with the tip of her fingers, and examined it with a sneer. "They were made by the very best scientists." The doctor added.

"You talk too much." Roslyn spat, finally looking the woman in the eye. Irritation was clear in her tone and eyes.

"I'm sorry Madam." The doctor quickly said with an apologetic bow.

"You're still talking." Roslyn snapped. "Get out."

The doctor hurried away, completely forgetting to take her bag in her haste to exit the room.

Racheal could not blame her, she felt sorry. Her stepmother had a way of reducing a person to an idiot.

Racheal turned to steal a glance at her and caught her staring back at her. The hate in her step-mother's eyes made her shrink.

"You passed the examination." Roslyn said.

"What?"

"The doctor said you still had your hymen intact." Her stepmother said pacing the room.

"What?" Racheal found herself saying again.

"Your father was so proud. I think there is nothing to be proud about, there are many ways to get your pleasures without penetrative sex. A hymen does not make you a saint." Roslyn continued.

She finally stopped walking and stood beside her bed again.

"You should know those other ways." Racheal wanted to say but instead said "How could you?"

"How could I what?"

"You violated me. I was unconscious, I did not give anyone consent to touch me or examine me." Racheal felt angry and hurt.

"I gave them consent. I am your step-mother."

"I am an adult." Racheal practically screamed. "Only I can give consent about my body."

Her step mother laughed darkly. "Like you give consent to be confined here and the other things i do to you?"

She laughed again, this time she sounded genuinely amused. "You should know things do not work that way here."

"You are evil."

Her stepmother did not get angry or try to hit her. She still looked amused. Racheal felt pain deep in her chest.

Why did she have to go through so much humiliation. Everyday her step-mother found more ways to make her feel less human. She was debased every day, the next time worse than the last.

Her father said and did nothing to protect her, she had absolutely no one to protect or save her, not even Maxwell anymore. She terribly missed her mother at that moment.

"You won't even show me my mother's grave." She felt tears fall from her eyes as she looked at Roslyn.

"And you think I would do that after your little act just now?" Roslyn scoffed and began walking away. "Rest, you will need your strength in the coming days." She said over her shoulder as she exited the room.

Racheal collapsed back to her bed in tears. This became her life since Roslyn stepped into their world. Tears and pain.

She had always technically been in their lives though.

From what Racheal learned, Roslyn became her father's mistress a few years after he got married to her mother.

They had Claire together, while Racheal's mother had difficulty getting pregnant.

And they had Celia a few months after Racheal was born. Her mother was ignorant of all this, till her father began climbing high in the political ladder.

The rumors became too big to ignore by the time he became vice president. Her mother went out to clear her head after confronting her father one day and never came back.

Her father announced she had been found a few months later, dead. And he married Roslyn, Racheal was only five years old.

Her maid came in, distracting her from her thoughts.

"It's time Miss."

Racheal blew her nose into the piece of paper napkin she had plucked from the roll on the table. "Time for what?"

"To prepare you for your wedding day. Your father has made the arrangements, and the first person is waiting outside the door." The maid said.

"First person? I don't understand what you are saying Diana." Racheal said. Her head felt hot and she feared she would soon be burning with a fever.

"The wedding is a national affair and your father instructed that he wanted you to look your best. An esthetician is waiting outside the door." The maid explained.

"Esthetician? What do I need an esthetician for?"

The maid said nothing but was staring at a spot on Racheal's face.

"Please get me a mirror." Racheal said. The maid hurriedly did.

Racheal gasped as soon as she looked in the hand mirror, her face was swollen red with a cut that looked ugly but thankfully not too deep.

Racheal sighed sadly in resignation and handed the mirror back to the maid. Her looks should be the least of her worries now.

"When is the wedding?" Racheal asked. Diana should know, maids had a way of knowing everything.

"You don't know?" The maid looked at her with surprise. "You are set to get married this weekend."