Description
It was the day of their marriage. Marrying a man twelve years older than her was something she did not think even in her most frightening dreams. Phoebe walks to the aisle in dubious steps clutching her father's hand. HIS hand was warm as he pulled her up holding her firm, the touch that holds a promise of protection but... he is stamped notorious mean, and violent - a brutal underworld mafia leader Vows were taken and the priest trumpeted the prayers. Phoebe felt the place around like perdition. "You may now kiss the bride." The priest announced. HIS warm hands cupped her face, lips slightly parted and HIS hot peppermint breath was fanning her face. Those deep blue pools held assurance, safety, and most importantly love but.... all this was a lie, a dirty charade. "I vow to hate you, with this marriage, you may claim my body but cannot win my heart. Welcome to the wedding of hell. Your countdown to the Tophet starts now." Phoebe claimed with venom in her speech. HIS eyes captured her in a glory of benediction, as he looked at her in a soft smile. "If you love somebody, you will love them with their scars, their sadness, and their flaws, my love." His juicy lips incarcerated her rims like the caress of rose petals that instantly transferred her to paradise. Her hands shivered and her legs became jelly swaddled in his rich canoodle as he pulled apart and proclaimed. "I dare you, you are always mine, and pledge to win you by any means, Phobe Pyranthisum." LET THE CHALLENGE BEGIN.
Prologue
