Salvation lies within the recesses of her heart. Can he claim it as his own?
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╰┈⫸ 𝑺 𝒀 𝑵 𝑶 𝑷 𝑺 𝑰 𝑺:
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢'𝐬 life takes a harrowing turn on her best friend's wedding day when an anonymous man crashes the ce...
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What an absolute disaster of a day I lived through yesterday. And today... well, I'm definitely not hoping for it to be any better. In fact, if I'm thinking cynically at all, it's best to assume that any day spent among the de Lucas will be catastrophic in its own glory. If there's an afterlife after this, God will surely forgive the souls of those who survived these people. After all, nobody sins enough to deserve experiencing hell twice.
Gabriel de Luca returned last night. I overheard some staff talking about it this morning. Apparently, he was furious and demanding to see Rafael. And Rafael... that dickhead was asleep and couldn't even be bothered.
Well, I did hear he was his father's most... obstinate son, and I never doubted it for a moment. The number of times I heard my uncle rant about him being so reckless and frivolous, I'm certain Rafael would have made headlines in the news a thousand times over if he were the son of just any multimillionaire businessman, instead of Chicago's Don.
The endless car races, the horse riding, the chaos he causes everywhere he goes, the parade of women trailing behind him-he has all the makings of a mediocre spoiled rich kid.
What a walking cliché.
And now, suddenly, he's fallen in love with a girl the moment he lays eyes on her? Tell me a better joke.
The room I'm staying in is nearly the size of the one Anastasia and I shared if they were combined, yet I feel suffocated within the confines of these sage-gray walls. I tried searching for my phone earlier until it hit me—I probably left it behind in the chaos of the day before yesterday.
I could ask Rafael for his phone, but who knows what he might do. If he dares repeat last night's antics in his short life, I swear, I'll kill him. Besides, he might just refuse outright. After all, I'm his captive of a wife.
Asking the bodyguards stationed outside the mansion is pointless too. They're either mute or under strict orders from Rafael de Luca to stay silent no matter what.
"Ugh," I groan as frustration simmered inside me.
Does it even matter if I find a phone? I saw no sign of Anastasia that day. Where could she be?
Calling Uncle would only lead to more trouble I'm not ready to face. Rafael might just blurt out that I killed a de Luca, and I have no evidence to prove otherwise.
It wasn't a wise move, what I did that day. I've told myself that for the umpteenth time now.
But how could I have known Rafael would pull a stunt like this afterwards-marrying me by force? Trying to kill me would've been more rational, honestly. At least I'd have had leverage to stop him—I had a gun too.
Maybe I could've tried escaping. Or something, anything to prepare myself. But not this. Not a marriage.
