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Today was the biggest day of my life, the day I’d finally become one with my one and only true love, Liam Callahan. A wave of apprehension swept through me, and it was safe to say that I was having the jitters. Why wouldn’t I? I’d never been married before, never experienced so much joy and fear at the same time.

It would have been nice to have Alessia here with me, but she’d texted me two days ago that she wouldn’t be able to make it. Apparently, something came up, but she was sorry for disappointing me. Even when she called later, I still heard it in her voice when she apologized. But I understood, and I promised not to hold it against her. Besides, if I’d told her sooner, she would have cleared her schedule and made the time to be here.

However, here I was, on the most important day of my life, anxious as fuck. I understood the anxiety part, but what about the fear I felt deep down in my heart? What was that about, and why couldn’t I seem to shake it off?

My heart pounded like a drum in my slowly heaving chest as the church doors parted open, revealing the seated guests, all dressed in their finest. A cold sense of foreboding seeped into my bones, crippling my knees, but my father’s elbow locked in mine was my anchor.

He stole a glance at me, his eyes sparkling with pride, his tailored black tuxedo simmering under the chandelier’s warm glow. Dad squeezed gently against my manicured fingers and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

My lips curled into a smile, and I heaved a sigh, taking the first step forward, my heartbeat steadying by the second. Dressed up in my expensive white silk lace, my heels clicked against the fine marble floor, polished to a shine.

Heads turned, all looking to catch a glimpse of the beautiful bride, and I could feel their eyes and the intensity of their gazes. The melody of the classic “Wedding March” filled the air as I advanced into the church building, my eyes fixed on the handsome man standing on the altar.

Liam Callahan, my husband-to-be, stood poised, his eyes never leaving his approaching bride. A charming smile softened his expression, accentuating his handsomeness as he stared at me in adoration. His black suit highlighted his athletic build, while his dark hair, styled to perfection, added a sense of sophistication to his overall look.

A cold shiver ran down my spine when we locked eyes, and he beamed at me like someone who’d just seen a goddess. Liam’s gaze was fixated on his bride; nothing else seemed to matter to him.

My father walked me down the aisle, and the closer we drew to the altar, the more anxious I became. Murmurs rose from the guests as they witnessed the event unfolding before them, but their voices soon faded into the background. The closer we drew to my husband-to-be, the more the world around us seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of us.

Oh, my God! This is really happening, I thought to myself, my heart racing with anticipation.

I was getting married to the most handsome man in the world, a man who loved, cherished, and adored me. Everything was perfect.

Sunlight filtered in through the stained-glass windows, casting soft colors over the opulent space as the scent of fresh flowers wafted through the air. This was the most exciting day of my life—a day I’d always remember—and I couldn’t wait to be joined in holy matrimony with Liam Callahan.

Dad handed me over at the altar and beamed at me before stepping away to join the guests. The priest guided me to stand across from Liam, merely inches apart, as we stared deeply into each other’s souls.

Liam winked at me, his eyes widening in such a way that the excitement on his face couldn’t be more palpable. He sensed my anxiety, my unease, and while the priest’s voice droned on, Liam took my hand, his tender touch soothing and calming. With a discreet move, he nodded at me, gently squeezing my fingers.

I felt a wind of relief blow across my features, my nervousness dissipating into thin air. As the ceremony continued, I locked eyes with my Prince Charming, anticipating the big moment—the most important moment of the day.

“Do you, Scarlett O’Sullivan, take this man, Liam Callahan, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?” the priest asked me.

I drew a deep breath, my face lighting up with a radiant smile. “I do.”

Liam mirrored my gesture, his gaze still fixed on mine, even as the priest posed the same question to him.

“I do,” he replied.

My heart was racing in my chest; in just a few more seconds, I’d be Liam’s bride officially. But somehow, I couldn’t seem to find that spark, the one from a minute ago. My nerves began to hum with unease, my breath hitching. What was going on here? Why was my stomach twisting into knots of worry?

Then, the priest asked that one question that shattered my nerves, leaving me breathless.

Why? What the hell was I so afraid of?

“Is there anyone in the congregation who has a reason why these two should not be joined together in holy matrimony? Speak now or forever remain silent.”

The church was quiet, all eyes fixed on the waiting couple at the altar. Of course, no one had any reason to stand in the way of my happiness. Right? This wasn’t a Hollywood movie where an ex-lover with impeccable timing would just barge in through the front door with a dramatic entrance. Right?

In the absence of any objections, the priest continued. “With the power bestowed on me, I now pronounce you….”

Then it happened—the dramatic entrance.

The front doors burst open, and armed men in black suits raided the building. My breath caught in my throat, my heart sinking into my chest at this sudden invasion.

“What is the meaning of this?” Dad growled, his face a mask of fury, and he withdrew a pistol from its holster.

“Hello, Sean, good to see you, too.” A tall man with an athletic build and neatly styled dark hair walked down the aisle, his calm voice dripping with sarcasm.

One of the masked men shot a gun in the air, and all of our guests dropped to the floor, screaming with their hands up above their heads. Chaos broke out in the church with these heavily armed commandos rounding people up, kicking and punching those who weren’t cooperating fast enough.

“The Bratva,” Liam muttered under his breath as he stepped out in front of me, his protective hands spread out like a shield. “Get behind me,” he said, his voice laced with urgency.

Honestly, I still wasn’t sure what was going on, and my brain completely shut down as I watched the chaos unfolding before me. Everything was happening so fast that it was difficult to process the situation.

“Russian pigs!” Dad charged at the previous speaker, the tall and handsome one.

However, Dad didn’t get anywhere close to him when two huge men restrained and disarmed him. One of them punched Dad in the gut, forcing a thick, painful grunt from him.

“Dad!” I yanked up the hem of my dress, fingers grasping the white lace, ready to advance further.

“Don’t,” Liam said, standing in my way, his back against me.

These armed assailants had completely taken over the place, and both families’ bodyguards were held captives. Panic set in, and our guests trembled on the floor, gasping and muttering words of prayer.

The leader of this invasion lit a cigarette clutched between his lips, his shoes clicking against the marble floor as he approached Liam and me.

“Son of a bitch. Stay the fuck away from my daughter!” Dad yelled, struggling against the strength of the hefty men holding him down.

“Language, O’Sullivan,” the man said, releasing a puff of smoke. “You’re in the house of God. You really should be mindful of your words,” he added, his voice calm yet menacing.

I’d never seen Liam so spooked before, never seen him so terrified of a fellow man. And that scared the shit out of me because that only meant that this man was a force to be reckoned with. They were Russians—the Bratva cartel—and he seemed to be in charge.

“Stay away from her,” Liam said, his voice cracking under the weight of his own fear.

The man’s lips twisted at the corners, and the next I knew, his fist slammed against Liam’s jaw, spilling blood from his mouth. My heart sank into my chest, and I stood there, frozen in place, too numb to speak or move. Dad cursed, yelled, and struggled, but to no avail, as this man beat Liam with his bare hands.

Liam tried, but he couldn’t land a single punch; it was clear that he was no match for this man, and his terror was justified. The man’s neatly styled hair was now slightly tousled from all that fighting. Well, I wouldn’t call it a fight, considering the little effort he put into beating the living daylights out of Liam.

He cracked his neck, getting off my fiancé’s motionless body. I watched him wipe his bloodied knuckles with a white handkerchief, and then he raised his head and met my gaze. The moment we locked eyes, my breath lodged in my throat, and a chilly shiver sprinted down my spine. His deep-set brown eyes bore into my soul, and I felt my spirit almost leave my body.

My heart was thrumming in my ears, and I struggled to breathe, unable to look away from his intimidating face. He walked toward the altar with deliberate slowness, his menacing footsteps sending tremors down my core. Halting in front of me, he tossed his cigarette away and stared at me with an unreadable expression.

He shifted his gaze to the trembling priest, who immediately did the sign of the cross with a shaky hand. “Now, you’re being dramatic,” he said to him. “But do well to extend my regards while you’re at it.”

That was his twisted way of telling the priest to say hello to God for him. What a dick!

He glanced at me again and then faced my father with a corny smirk on his lips. “You were going to give her away, weren’t you, O’Sullivan? How generous!”

Beneath the calmness of his voice was something so sinister it made my skin crawl.

He nodded at his men, and one of them rushed over to Liam’s body, searched him, and retrieved the ring from his inner pocket. Liam tried to resist, but he was too weak. Thank God he was still breathing; I thought he was dead.

“You sick bastard!” Dad cursed, his voice echoing through the walls. “I swear to God, I’m gonna kill you!” He struggled to free himself, but those men were stronger. “I’ll kill you, Daniel! I’ll kill you!” He bellowed at the top of his voice, his eyes red with fury as a lone vein lined his forehead.

That was his name—Daniel.

The ring, stained with Liam’s blood, was handed to Daniel, and he stood across from me—in the exact spot and position where Liam once was barely five minutes ago.

“What’re you doing?” Dad asked, his eyes wide with shock.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Daniel asked, calm and composed.

“No,” Dad murmured, shaking his head and attempting to stand.

Tears streamed from my eyes, and my lips quivered, my heart shattering into a million tiny pieces.

“Padre,” Daniel called the priest’s attention. “Continue.” He looked at me, a mischievous, self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The priest hesitated for a moment, shaking like a leaf. But as soon as a gun was pointed at his head, he steeled himself and cleared his throat, ready to do as instructed.

And just like that, my wedding turned into a nightmare—one filled with chaos, pain, and suffering. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, a day that I would always remember for good. But Daniel stole that experience from me and forced me to marry him, slipping a blood-stained ring onto my finger.

I could say no, I could resist, but what end? Daniel had already beaten my fiancé half to death, and he wouldn’t mind staining the floor with my father’s brains. He was just that kind of man—cold, ruthless, and evil.

My jaw clenched, uncontrollable tears trickling down my cheeks as my heartbeat escalated, my pulse quickening. The choice was this: Say yes to this devil and spend the rest of my life in misery, or say no and paint the church red with the blood of my family, of those I loved.

My hands trembled, my whole body shuddered, and I sweated in uncomfortable places. Yet, despite the fear, terror, and confusion in my tear-filled eyes, this man simply looked at me and smiled, unfazed by my struggles.

This was the day I would die because it didn’t matter what choice I made; I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. As I weighed my options and held Daniel’s gaze, fear turned to hate, and my jaw tightened, my face contorted in disdain. Yet, he didn’t seem to give two shits.

Daniel had me trapped. He had my whole family in the palm of his hands. If I somehow managed to survive this humiliation, I’d hate him for the rest of my life.

That was a fact.