Kayla groaned softly when sunlight touched her face. She turned to her side, clutching the sheet, not ready to wake up yet. But the light was too strong, and she finally blinked her eyes open.
Her breath caught.
This was not her room.
She sat up quickly, her pulse racing. The bed beneath her was wide and soft, covered in white sheets. Thin curtains draped down from the tall frame around her, swaying gently with the air. Across the room stood a polished dressing table, and beside it a tall cabinet. Sunlight streamed in through a giant glass window, making everything shine.
She frowned. "Where am I?" she whispered to herself.
The sound of the door opening made her head snap toward it.
Enzo Vetalli stepped in, tall and sharp, pushing a trolley filled with plates of food. He rolled it smoothly across the room and then sank down onto one of the couches. A faint smirk played at his lips, as though he already knew her thoughts.
"I had food brought up," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "We can have brunch together."
Kayla's first instinct was to refuse, but her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. Heat rushed to her face, and she quickly stood, hurrying into the washroom without answering him.
Inside, she splashed water on her face and looked into the mirror. Her wedding dress clung to her, yesterday's makeup smudged under her eyes. She looked tired, broken, and she hated it.
When she came back, Enzo was waiting, sitting at ease. She crossed the room and sat stiffly on the couch opposite him. He handed her a plate, and though she hesitated, she took it and began to eat in silence.
For a few minutes, only the soft clinks of cutlery filled the room. Then Enzo leaned back in his seat, his blue eyes sharp and unblinking.
"There's something you need to understand, Kayla," he said slowly, his tone leaving no space for argument. "You're my wife now. That means, one day, you will give me a child."
Her fork froze midair. The words slammed into her chest, stealing her breath. She turned her face away quickly, blinking fast, refusing to let him see the tears forming in her eyes.
Enzo's smirk deepened slightly. "It's not a request. It will happen. That's the future you belong to now."
Kayla's hand trembled around her fork, anger and fear rising like fire in her chest. She forced herself to stay silent, choosing to eat another bite rather than answer him.
Enzo studied her for a moment, then stood. "I'll leave you to rest. But remember what I said."
With that, he walked out, the door shutting firmly behind him.
The moment he left, Kayla dropped her fork and buried her face in her hands. Tears poured out, unstoppable. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed quietly, every sound muffled by her palms.
Just yesterday she had been smiling at Pearl's wedding, celebrating, dreaming of her own future. Now here she was—married to a man she didn't love, trapped in a life she hadn't chosen.
When her tears finally slowed, she lifted her head and wiped her wet cheeks roughly. Her eyes drifted toward the small table in the corner where the house phone sat.
Suddenly, it rang.
Kayla jumped at the sharp sound. Her heart pounded as she slowly walked over. She picked it up but didn't speak. Instead, she noticed another receiver was already connected. Out of instinct, she held her breath and listened.
Her father's voice came through first.
"I kept my promise, Enzo," he said, his tone heavy, tired. "She's your wife now. I did what you asked."
Kayla's blood ran cold.
On the other end, Enzo's deep voice answered, smooth but cutting. "You didn't have a choice, old man. You owed me, and you knew it."
"I… I couldn't repay the money," her father admitted, his voice breaking. "If I had the means, I never would have agreed to this marriage. But you left me no way out."
Kayla covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her knees weakening.
Enzo's reply was sharp, final. "Debts must be paid, one way or another. Don't think I did this out of kindness. Your daughter is the payment. And she will give me what I want."
Her father's silence was heavy, filled with shame. Then he spoke again, weakly. "I just hope you… treat her well."
Enzo let out a low chuckle. "She belongs to me now. That's all that matters."
The line went dead with a click.
Kayla stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear though the call had ended. Slowly, her fingers lost their strength, and the receiver slipped from her grasp, falling to the floor with a dull thud.
She stumbled back to the bed, her whole body shaking. Tears blurred her vision again, but this time the pain was sharper, deeper, unbearable.
So this was the truth.
Her father had given her away, to pay off his debt. She wasn't a daughter —she was currency. A bargain. A deal made between two men, her life traded like it had no value.
Her chest ached as though her heart was tearing apart. She hugged herself tightly, rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed.
"I'm nothing more than a payment," she whispered to the empty room. "Not a daughter. Not a wife. Just… payment."
Enzo's earlier words echoed in her mind: You will give me a child.
Fresh sobs broke free, and Kayla buried her face in her knees. The room around her, so grand and beautiful, felt like a cage.
She had never felt so broken, so helpless, in her entire life.
And for the first time, Kayla realized—her nightmare had only just begun.