Chapter 3

Thursday night, seven o’clock.

I had just finished the discharge paperwork and returned home when several unfamiliar women barged inside.

Frank had sent them.

In the bathroom, I changed into the wedding dress they tossed at me.

In the mirror, my twisted, scarred skin and the oversized gown made me look like some cheap, broken doll.

The fat woman leading them threw a veil over my head.

“Better,” she clicked her tongue. “At least now no one has to see your face.”

The church had only a few rows of benches. No guests. No music.

Just me and Frank and three of his men.

“Let’s hurry it up,” Frank said impatiently to the priest, tugging at his ill-fitting suit. “Read the vows.”

The priest flipped open his Bible in a rush.

The ceremony took five minutes.

Vows. Cheap rings. Signatures.

When the documents were placed in front of me, I hesitated for a second.

“The parole officer,” I said, gripping the pen.

“Monday,” Frank said casually. Then he snatched the pen from my hand and signed my name himself.

The moment the pen hit the table, the church doors slammed open.

Richard stormed in, Marcus and two of his men right behind him.

His eyes were bloodshot. The phone in his hand was still lit up, the GPS tracking screen glowing.

I immediately understood. The spare phone. He had put a tracker on it.

“Matilda!” His voice echoed through the empty church. “Come home with me.”

Frank’s men immediately drew their guns.

“Richard,” Frank said, stepping in front of me, “she’s my legal wife now.”

“Move.” Richard pulled out his gun and pointed it straight at him.

Frank grinned. “You fire that thing in here, add assault with a deadly weapon to your record…” he chuckled. “Take a guess where your parole ends up.”

I saw Richard’s hand shaking.

“Matilda,” he said hoarsely, turning to look at me, “tell me the truth. Did you do this willingly?”

Under the veil, I took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “Yes. I chose this, Richard. You should go.”

Richard staggered back like he’d just been punched.

“I don’t want you protecting me anymore,” I said, every word cutting through me like a blade. “I want a normal life. Frank doesn’t mind my burned face. He...”

“He’s lying...”

“He’s not lying!” My voice rose before I could stop it. I finally lifted my head to look at him.

Richard couldn’t see the pleading in my eyes hidden beneath the veil.

“Richard,” I forced my voice to stay calm, “I don’t want to be your burden anymore.”

The silence in the church was suffocating.

Richard stared at me. Shock. Pain. Then finally nothing. Just dead gray emptiness.

Marcus grabbed his arm. “Let’s go, Richard.”

Frank let out a harsh laugh.

“You hear that? She chose me.”

Richard didn’t say another word. He turned and walked out of the church step by step.

His back stiff as stone.

Frank slung an arm around my shoulders. His grip was heavy, smelling faintly of sweat.

I jerked away instantly, fighting the urge to throw up. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Frank snorted and waved a hand. “Heh. Nice performance.”

“Now,” he said, “let’s go home.”