Not The Daddies She Expected

(This is a matured content book, don't continue if you are not used to explicit language, use of verbal words, Alcohol, drugs, and BDSM. Remember you signed for this when it's shoved down your throat in the upcoming chapters. This is a warning)

January 2017 (Two years prior)

“Mother, no! Please don’t die, please!” The shrieking voice of a teenager echoed throughout the hospital. Only the patients near the room could hear how miserable and dismal the young girl was.

“Anna, call your father,” the dying woman lying lifeless on the bed slowly opened her eyes and muttered in a low voice.

“Mother, I’ve already called him on the doctor’s phone. He’s on his way,” Anna replied hurriedly, holding her mother's hand.

“I don’t blame you, Anna. I decided to come and save you. Don’t blame yourself,” the woman said softly, then closed her eyes for the last time.

The sound of the heart monitor flatlining brought Anna back to reality. She was trembling all over. Her mother was gone.

“Annabella! Annabella!” An older man shouted as he entered the room, looking into the lifeless eyes of his beloved wife.

“She’s dead, and it’s all that bitch’s fault!” he cried out.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?! She came to save you from being raped, but you just stood there while she was beaten to death! Why were you even out in the first place?” Mr. Walton yelled at his eldest daughter while her younger sister sobbed quietly in the corner of the hospital room.

“Daddy…” Anna whispered, looking up at her father with tear-filled eyes.

“Don’t call me that, you despicable little bitch!” Mr. Walton screamed before slapping Anna across the face.

From that day on, Mr. Walton swore to make Anna’s life a living hell, blaming her for the death of his beloved wife.

Present Day (December 2019)

Anna was about to light up the cigarette she had stolen from her father, having finished the daily chores he demanded she complete, or else face another round of beatings and starvation. Just as she lifted the lighter, her father’s angry voice bellowed from the house.

“Anna! Anna! Where’s that little bitch?” Mr. Walton shouted as he began throwing things around the house, clearly enraged that things weren’t going his way.

Upon hearing her father’s voice, Anna knew trouble was coming. She quickly shoved the cigarette back into its pack and returned it to the spot her father usually kept it. Then, she shouted back, “Father, I’m here!” She repeated herself, knowing he hated being ignored.

“I’ve been calling you for ten minutes! Do I look like a joke to you?” Mr. Walton demanded as he stormed over, yanking Anna by the hair and slapping her hard across the face, causing her to flinch and fall to the floor in pain.

“I asked you, do I look like a joke to you?” he shouted, raining more slaps and kicks on Anna’s already bruised body. But she remained silent, knowing that speaking up would only prolong the abuse.

After what felt like an eternity of being slapped and kicked, Mr. Walton finally stopped to catch his breath, kicking a nearby chair in frustration. Anna remained on the floor, clutching her red, swollen cheeks as tears streamed down her face. She quickly wiped them away, knowing that if her father saw her crying, it would only encourage him to continue.

“Where’s Maria? Is she in her room?” Mr. Walton asked, slightly calmer now.

“She... she’s not back from school yet,” Anna stuttered, barely able to speak through the pain.

It wasn’t always like this. The abuse had started two years ago, right after her mother’s funeral. Her once-loving father had become bitter, blaming her for her mother’s death, even though it wasn’t her fault. He needed someone to blame, and unfortunately, Anna was the only one there to take the brunt of his grief and rage.

“Since Maria’s not here, listen closely,” Mr. Walton sneered, “I owe someone a lot of money, and I’ll never be able to pay him back. He needs a wife, someone to stay in his house while he’s away on business trips and bear his children. You’re just dead weight around here. Look at you, big and well-fed, while my precious daughter Maria is thinner than you.”

Anna bit her lip, holding back a sarcastic remark. “Precious daughter,” she thought. Maria was always the favorite, while she was nothing more than an unwanted burden.

“The man will be here in a few minutes to pick you up. I’ve already signed the papers. Be a good wife to him, or else don’t bother coming back here. If you do, I’ll make sure your face isn’t as smooth as it is now,” Mr. Walton threatened.

Anna sat on the floor, head bowed, listening to her father’s tirade. She didn’t dare move until he gave her permission, fearing more beatings.

“What are you waiting for? Get up! Go pack your things before he gets here!” Mr. Walton shouted, his patience running thin.

Anna scrambled to her room, her mind racing. She was finally leaving this hell. Even if it meant becoming a stranger’s wife, anything was better than staying here with her abusive father.

As she packed her few belongings, she quickly wrote a letter to her younger sister, Maria:

Dear Maria,

I’ve left to become the wife of a man I’ve never met because that’s what our father wants. Don’t look for me or be sad. I’m glad to be leaving. Take care of yourself.

Your loving sister,

Anna

She carefully hid the letter under the candle lamp, knowing that if her father found it, she wouldn’t even be safe in her new husband’s house.

As she finished packing, the sound of a car horn echoed from outside. Her father’s voice bellowed once again from downstairs.

“Anna! Get down here, he’s waiting!”

Car honks immediately brought her out of her daydream and she quickly hurried to where she was hearing the honks from to meet her soon-to-be husband.