ADORA’S P.O.V

“You'll remain here until the boss comes,” the man said as he dragged me forcefully into a room. Locking the door immediately as he left.

My already tired legs couldn't help but walk fast towards the door, my hands grabbing the knob of the door as I yanked it angrily.

“Shit!” I gritted my teeth.

I was left all alone in a simple but luxurious room. The small bed was neatly arranged, and the walls were made of wood deco. There was an open wardrobe, a chair, and a single window with white lace cotton curtains, and nothing else.

I could feel my legs grow weak by the minute, my hands instantly fell over my head, I could hear my heart beat faster than normal, it was reality after all.

“Daddy!” I screamed, my voice breaking as it echoed through the room. My knees gave out beneath me, and I fell hard onto the cold floor. My palms hit the ground, but I barely felt the pain. Everything inside me was shaking.

My mind kept spinning, I could remember every sound, every face, every word replaying over and over. In just one night, my life had changed completely. One single night had taken away the only man who had ever truly loved me. My father.

“Daddy,” I whispered again, my voice cracking into small sobs. My body trembled as I lay on the floor, my hair falling into my face. I could still see his eyes, full of guilt, full of fear, as those men dragged me away.

“I know they’re lying,” I cried out, my words coming out between gasps. “I know you can’t just trade me for something so absurd.” My tears fell faster, hitting the floor, leaving small, round marks that looked like broken stars.

I tried to believe my own words. I tried to tell myself that my father would never sell me. That he was only scared. That he was forced. But the harder I tried, the weaker my hope became. My heart hurt, deep and sharp, like someone had cut a part of it out.

Questions crowded my mind. Why didn’t he fight harder? Why did he sign that paper? Why didn’t he say something? Was it all true, that he had killed their mother? And if it was, did that mean my father was really a murderer?

I shook my head over and over, trying to push the thoughts away. “No,” I whispered to myself. “He’s not like that. He can’t be.” But no matter how hard I tried, the picture of him kneeling, begging that monster for mercy, wouldn’t leave my mind.

I felt like I was trapped between two worlds, one where my father was still the man who tucked me in at night, and another where he had sold me to a mafia lord to save his own life.

My chest tightened. I could barely breathe. I wrapped my arms around myself, as if holding my body together could stop it from breaking. The cold from the floor seeped into my skin, making me shiver, but I didn’t move.

“Why, Daddy?” I whispered again, my voice small and broken. “Why did you let them take me?”

No one answered. Only silence filled the huge room. The man who dragged me in was gone. It was just me, my tears, and the sound of my heart breaking.

I stared at the ceiling until my vision blurred. My head felt heavy, my eyes burning from all the crying. Slowly, the room started to fade. My body grew weaker with every blink, my breath uneven.

I tried to fight sleep, but it came anyway, slow and cold. My eyes fluttered shut as the last tear slipped down my cheek.

The last thought in my mind before darkness took over was a question that tore at my chest.

Did my father really sell me?

Or was I just another price for his past sins?

***

“Wake her up,”

I could hear voices from my dream, my body motioned side by side, aching from the floor I had slept on.

“The officiate is on his way; there's no time, dress my bride.”

My eyes flung open as a rush of noise filled the room. I blinked hard, trying to make sense of what was happening. The last thing I remembered was crying myself to sleep, but now, now there were people everywhere.

Dozens of maids filled the room, moving in neat lines, their heads bowed low. Each of them held something, a box, a tray, or a folded cloth. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaky, confused. I pushed myself up from the bed, my hair falling wildly over my shoulders, strands sticking to my face. My heart started beating fast again. Why was I surrounded like this? What were they doing here?

Before I could get an answer, a deep, cold voice sliced through the room.

“Lift her.”

I froze. That voice, I would never forget it.

I turned sharply, and there he was. El Cana. The same man from last night. The man who dragged me from my father’s house. The man who had ruined everything. His gray suit fit him perfectly, clean and sharp. His hair was slicked back, his face calm but cruel. He didn’t look tired or guilty. He looked proud.

“Have you come to kill me finally?” I snapped, my voice rising without my control. My hands shook, but I didn’t care. I looked him straight in the eyes. I wanted him to see that I wasn’t afraid, even though my heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe.

He smiled, slow and deliberate, like my words entertained him. “You’re really sharp-tongued,” he said, one brow lifting as his lips curved upward. “Don’t worry, princess. We’ll work on that… after the wedding.”

For a moment, everything stopped. Wedding?

The word echoed in my head like a loud bell. I blinked, my eyes wide, trying to process what he’d just said. “What do you mean, wedding?” I asked, my voice trembling. My chest felt tight, my breath shallow.

The maids didn’t look at me. They kept their heads down, moving faster now, spreading things out across the room. I turned and saw what they carried,

A white gown.

A pearl necklace.

Silver heels.

A soft white veil.

A brush, perfume, earrings, everything a bride would wear.

My stomach dropped. I felt dizzy. My knees almost gave out. “No… no, no, no!” I cried out, shaking my head hard. My hands clutched at my hair. “This can’t be happening! What do you mean wedding?!”

No one answered.

El Cana’s cold voice came again, firm and final. “She should be ready in five minutes.” Then he turned, his shoes clicking against the floor as he walked out. The door slammed shut behind him with a loud bang that made me flinch.

For a few seconds, I stood there frozen. My mind refused to believe it. I could still hear the echo of his voice in my head, after the wedding.

Then panic hit me like fire. I rushed toward the door, my legs stumbling as I ran. “What do you mean, wedding?!” I screamed, slamming my fists against the door again and again. “You can’t do this to me! Open the door!”

The maids stood still, avoiding my eyes. Their faces were pale, their hands trembling, but none of them moved to help me.

Tears burned down my cheeks. I banged the door until my palms ached. My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. “You can’t force me into this! Do you hear me?!”

No one answered. Only silence.

I turned around, my back against the door, my breath shaking. The white gown lay perfectly spread out on the bed, bright, beautiful, and cruel. The sight of it made me sick.

My heart raced faster, my thoughts all tangled. How can this be real? How can he do this?

I pressed my hands to my face, crying harder now. I didn’t know what was worse, the fact that my father had given me away, or that this monster was going to make me his bride.

I slid down slowly to the floor, my body weak, the cold wall behind me. Around me, the maids kept working in silence, pretending not to see my pain.

I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for any of it.

And as I stared at that white gown again, a sharp truth hit me, I wasn’t being dressed for love.

I was being dressed for punishment.