Violet Rose,
the definition of perfect as she grew up in a family with fame obsessed parents. Never has it been easy for her, publishing her own first book at seventeen, her parents wanting her to get married at twenty three.
But what if there's a m...
I feel bad for posting so late so here's another chapter to read, babes. Hope you like it because I sure do and if you feel the same please comment and vote thank you so so much. Have fun reading, my love<33
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Violet Rose:
I sniff wiping all the tears off my face that had spilled out in the last ten minutes.
Have you ever related to that feeling, where you look into the mirror and- and you hate what you see? And no, not because you look ugly or because you don't have the body-type that you would prefer, but because of the situation you find yourself in at this exact moment.
Because that is exactly my problem right now. The fact that I'm stood in an unfamiliar room, in front of a mirror, in a wedding dress and not having a clue what is about to happen is making everything worse.
I remember everything so well, the pictures won't leave my mind. He did it all himself today, he dragged me out of my cell undressed me right in front of his eyes and bathed me along with hiring someone to do my hair and make-up while he watched. I had to get dressed in front of him and never have I felt more uncomfortable than today.
Normally it didn't feel as weird since women would bathe me and make sure I looked presentable, but today he did and I was afraid of the things he is capable of. Because I know there are a lot of things he is capable of.
And I can't help but wonder if my letter ever reached home. Logan or someone else. But I was probably just being stupid anyway, how are they supposed to know what to do if all I had sent them were numbers and letters?
I expected too much from them and this isn't as easy as I hoped it would be. Honestly I was hoping they'd pull FBI or something and find me in less than a day but how could they? They aren't some awful mafia leaders, they save kids in need. It's okay if they don't understand what my letter means, I'm just really hoping they do and send me someone to save me. I can't do this anymore.
Once again all my bruises are covered but the pain I got from the brush and the beauty-blender dabbing over them didn't make them unnoticeable to me. My dress is way too tight and I feel like I can't breathe and my scalp hurts by how hard they pinned up my hair. I look like a doll, but not the one you'd let your kid play with.
Not the one with the pretty blonde hair and the pink lipstick as well as the perfect body and cute little dresses. More like the one that you'd throw away after your child colored on it with markers and cut her hair. I look like damn Annabelle.
"Ten more minutes, don't fucking try anything." a woman yells from outside the room and I visibly flinch at the sudden voice.
I'm scared of this. Once I walk out- or more like get dragged there- and to the altar, I will get married to a mafia leader and I will belong to him. He said after that he will do anything he wants to do with me and I don't have any doubt in that. He will, I know Michelangelo will.
