Chapter 3

Abigail’s POV

I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes fixed on the stranger staring back at me. The wedding dress hugged my body in all the wrong places, making me feel like a prisoner in a sea of satin and lace.

I've always dreamed of marrying for love, but now my fate seems sealed. I'm about to marry a man I barely know, and I can't help but think of that haunting quote by William Shakespeare: "Marry where you may, for you will marry once."

My mind raced with doubts, my heart heavy with the weight of my decision. I thought of Grace, my beloved grandmother, whose life hung in the balance. Without her medical treatment, she might die. The thought sent a chill down my spine. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her; she was all I had.

My stepmother's voice broke into my thoughts, her words dripping with excitement.

"I can't believe we're finally going to become part of the Lester Wright's family. After this wedding, we will be set for life, and your father's company will never go bankrupt!" She beamed at me, her eyes shining with a materialistic gleam.

She floated over to where I stood, her designer heels clicking on the floor.

"Oh... This is gorgeous!"

She cooed, her fingers tracing the intricate lace on my dress. Her gaze roved over me, her eyes lingering on the diamond tiara perched on my head. "You look like a princess, Abigail."

I felt like a pawn in her game of wealth and status, a mere means to an end. She saw me as a way to secure her place in society, nothing more. I stiffened under her touch, my skin crawling with discomfort.

"It's just a dress, Stepmother," I muttered, my voice barely audible.

"The family has already arranged the perfect place for the ceremony," my stepmother said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She prattled on about the wedding plans, her words dripping with enthusiasm.

I rolled my eyes, my mind wandering in disgust. I could hardly bring myself to listen to her, knowing that I was being forced to marry a man I'd never even met. My stepmother's obsession with wealth and status was sickening, and I couldn't stand to hear another word about the wedding.

"Mother, I need to take a break," I said, interrupting her monologue. I tried to sound calm, but my voice was laced with frustration. "I'll be back in a bit. I need to use the restroom."

But my stepmother's expression darkened, her eyes narrowing. "You'll do no such thing," she snapped, her grip on my chin tightening. She pulled me closer, her breath hot on my face.

"I want everything to be perfect, and I mean everything," she hissed. "If you do or say something that will ruin my plans of marrying into the Lester Wright family, I will not hesitate to cut off all medical treatment for your precious Grace." Her voice was low and menacing, her eyes glinting with a cruel light.

I froze in terror, my eyes locked on my stepmother's cold, hard gaze. My heart raced, my breath caught in my throat. The thought of losing Grace was more than I could bear. I knew she meant what she said, and that she would carry out her threat without a second thought.

I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Please...don't do this. I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt Grace." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, my body trembling with fear.

My stepmother smirked, a cruel smile playing on her lips. She seemed to enjoy my distress, her eyes gleaming with a malevolent light.

"You'll do what I want, regardless," she said, releasing her grip on my chin. I gasped for air, my lungs burning from the brief suffocation.

She turned away, her attention focused on the wedding preparations.

"Now, let's continue. The wedding will be beginning soon, and we have a lot to do." She bustled around the room, her movements brisk and efficient.

I felt like a prisoner, trapped in this gilded cage. I had to find a way to escape, but I didn't know how. All I knew was that I couldn't let Grace be hurt. I had to find a way to save her, no matter what.

My stepmother's voice pierced the air, her words dripping with excitement.

"The jewelry is perfect!

You'll be the envy of every woman in the city, and I will be the proud mother who married her daughter into one of the richest families in the country.

Hahaha!"

She laughed, her eyes gleaming with triumph. Her greed and ambition knew no bounds. I watched her in horror, my mind racing with thoughts of escape.

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and spoke up. "I must admit that I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the preparation. I know that this is all very important, but it's a lot to take in." I fidgeted with my hands, my eyes darting around the room.

My stepmother raised an eyebrow, her gaze piercing.

"Are you saying that you're having second thoughts about the wedding?" she asked, her tone becoming sharp. Her voice was like a knife, cutting through my defenses.

I shook my head, trying to reassure her. "No, stepmother. I'm just feeling a bit anxious about everything. I want to make sure that everything is perfect, and I'm not sure that I'm ready for all of this." I spoke slowly, choosing my words carefully.

My stepmother's eyes narrowed, her expression skeptical. She studied me, her gaze calculating. I could tell she was trying to decide if I was being sincere or if I was just trying to get out of the wedding.

Finally, she spoke, her voice softening. "What you're feeling is perfectly normal." She began, her words dripping with condescension.

"It's a big change, and it's natural to feel anxious about it. But I know that you're a smart and capable young woman, and you'll be able to handle this." Her eyes gleamed with a knowing light, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I knew what she was capable of, and I had to tread carefully. I nodded slowly, my eyes fixed on hers.

She gave me a piercing look, her gaze boring into mine. I could tell she was trying to decide whether or not she believed me.

"Alright then." She said finally, her voice firm. "But remember, I'm watching you. I don't want any slip-ups." Her eyes seemed to bore into my soul, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

I nodded again, my stomach churning with anxiety. I knew I had to be careful, or else I'd suffer the consequences.

"Now, let's get you married!"

My stepmother exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I felt a wave of panic wash over me, my heart racing like a wild animal. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and accepted my fate. I was going to be married to a stranger, and there was nothing I could do about it.

The door opened, and my father walked in, his expression as blank as a stone. He approached me, his eyes cold and calculating, and grasped my hand gently.

I wished he wasn't a puppet under my stepmother's control, that he could stand up for me and protect me from this nightmare. But he was just a pawn in her game, and I was the sacrifice.

"You look lovely, dear," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Everything is ready for the ceremony."

I felt like a doll, dressed up and presented for someone else's entertainment. I wanted to scream and run away, but I knew I couldn't. I had to keep up the charade, for my own safety and for the safety of those I loved.

I forced a smile onto my face and turned to my stepmother. She beamed at me, clearly pleased with my compliance.

My father led me out of the room, down a long hallway, and into the chapel. My heart raced, my palms sweaty.

I had to stay calm, but it was difficult. The chapel was decorated with beautiful flowers and candles, and soft music played in the background.

But there was no sign of my husband-to-be…..