Chapter 3: Mr. Adrian
Elisa POV
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him, almost ripping my heart off. Everyone turned, all gazes were fixed on me, like it was my fault.
I bowed my head, hands over my face, kept on pitching my fingers deep into my palms until it hurt.
"You!" a voice pumped out, not any type but the one who could make a word, and a person could vanish without a trace.
I slid my head up a little up as our eyes fixed on each other.
My head roamed around until it landed back as everyone kept on murmuring; that husked grew stronger than anything else.
"Me?"
My trembling fingers pointed at my face as he smirked at that alone.
Must be him.
That same smirk.
That deadly one.
I sat there, my body trembling like it was my turn to disappear. Elena rushed from the altar, her hands wrapped around the long white wedding gown, as she ran toward him.
"My love," She gave me a dead glare, rolled her eyes at me and then at him. Try wrapping her hands around his shoulders, but he wriggled free, almost causing her to crash her fingers into the wall.
A smile curled out, almost to a laugh.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Slut!" She hissed.
Everyone kept staring; some tugged their phone and got the recording active. I sat there, still trying to wrap my head.
Maybe he remembered me. Maybe he wanted to ruin my life, my little dreams. I was trying my best to make the best out of it.
"You!"
"Come here."
He pointed at me again. I bowed my head, almost ripping those flowers as they stuck in my hands.
"What do you mean, love?"
"Everyone awaits you." Elena dragged him a little, but his gaze forced her to move a little back as she panicked.
"Take her." The only thing I recalled was my body lifted up, like it was some veggies or trash.
"Stop!" I yelled, my hands smashing the guard who looked undefeated. After a few minutes, I stood there, still on his shoulder, accepting my fate. The view couldn't allow me to stare at my stepsister's face, those angry looks that could grind me into pieces.
My body suddenly dropped to the ground as my legs fought their way to it.
"Fuck you." I stood there, adjusted my clothes, and muttered those heavy words.
"What's going on?" The priest asked as he scanned everywhere. I turned only to glance at the crowd, everyone with a frown stuck on their face.
That man.
He never cared.
Not for once.
He stood there, finally removing his hands from his pockets, and then faced me.
"You may now say the vow."
It's been two weeks now of being Mr. Alison's wife, the rude and commanding billionaire. Two fucked weeks of being here. The countless times I wished I wasn't here, the curses Mom laid on me, all of it.
I knocked, pulled away, wiped my wet tears, stared at myself in the mirror, and then walked toward the door.
"Who?" a sleepy yawn followed.
"Mrs. Elisa, sir requests you for a family breakfast."
"Alright, thank you."
I sighed, jammed the door firmly, and leaned at it. That day I hated the most, the extra time I took to avoid this day, and now it's finally happened.
Twenty minutes at the dot, I reached the hallway end, when hushed laughter kept on, like it was waiting for me to step in and stop.
Immediately, Clara, Mr. Alison's mom and my mother-in-law noticed my presence. She waved her hands toward me with a smile curled at the edge of her lips.
"Oh, my daughter. Glad to see you, after a long time." My eyes almost ran through her white gown, the golden design that cost more than my generation.
"C'mon, have a seat," she said, noticing I was over staring at her. I smiled and nodded and walked over toward her, but she placed a hand to stop me.
"I don't need issues with someone," she chuckled.
That man I married sat there, emotionless without any reaction, fingers curled to his fork as he got busy on his phone.
But just then, my eyes roamed around, from his mom to his little brother, Janson, to Willy, his kid sister, and then it paused at someone.
"Who?" I asked, my voice above a whisper.
"What?" his voice filled with unanswered questions that left me hanging.
"Her!" I pointed my fingers at the lady. She stared a little and then got focused on her phone, like I was the trouble maker. I scanned her outfit; she wore a red gown below her knee, her fingers filled with diamond rings.
"Oh, her?. Sorry about that. Meet Viva, Alison's childhood best friend. She came back from her trip to Zeeland and wanted to spend a few days here before heading back home," his mom said, with a smile.
Just then, Viva raised her hand for a handshake, all of a sudden, like I was the one having a beef with her. With a fake smile I curled, accepted her handshake, and walked toward Alison and sat down.
Throughout the family discussion, Alison didn't utter a word at me, all fixed on his so-called bestie, as they kept on digging into their childhood experience together.
My fingers curled into the fork, unable to digest the steamy meat and spaghetti with the fresh lemon drink. No one cared about me; maybe I was still new to this home.
Alison's little sister, around my age, got busy asking Viva about the gift she promised her and not about me.
Forty minutes passed. Clara stood up, hands wrapped around her wide pink bag, and cleared her throat.
"Alis, let her have some rest; today isn't over," his mom said with a smirk. Alison stood, pecked his mom, that side I never had the chance to glance at.
"Alright, Mom."
"Should I beg you? Let's go." He laughed as Viva made her way toward the corridor and then upstairs.
I watched them like a lost soul, unable to understand the type of family I was sold into.
The thought of him claiming me, instead of my sister, had left me speechless.
"Oh, I forgot; please let him have this." Alison's mom said, handed me over a file, brown in color, before zipping her handbag and left the house.
The stairs weren't happy at all with mine; I wasn't used to the lift. My heart skipping beats as it pounded faster, I rested my hands on the wall and reached Alison's room.
"Oh, final..." The door suddenly opened, my hand in the air, too knocked.
Viva was almost naked, her T-shirt barely reaching her pants, as she stared with a smirk.