MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE
Chapter 5
Marceline stepped out of the cab, her fingers trembling slightly as she rummaged through her purse for the fare. The driver cast a wary glance her way, his sharp eyes assessing her carefully, a hint of concern flickering across his face, but he refrained from voicing his thoughts. Instead, he accepted the cash with a curt nod. She managed a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nodded politely, and shut the door behind her. The cab rumbled away, trailing behind it a cloud of exhaust and the relentless, weary hum of the city that lingered in the air like a distant echo of a life she had once known.
The iron gate loomed before her, its rusted bars standing tall and unyielding, a fortress to her tumultuous past. It was familiar yet felt like a stranger, like a place that once held warmth, now veiled in the cold fog of time and trauma. She took a shuddering breath, exhaled shakily, and reached forward to push it open. The hinges creaked ominously, the sound slicing through the quiet afternoon like a whisper from a long-forgotten nightmare.
As she approached the apartment door, a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over her, overwhelming her senses. Her knees buckled slightly, but with sheer force of will, she steadied herself, refusing to succumb to the tide of unease that threatened to pull her under. Her heart thundered violently in her chest, and her thoughts spiraled, each one unraveling in a chaotic dance.
With hesitant hands, she pressed the doorbell, the chime echoing down the stillness of the hallway.
No answer.
She pressed again, the sound fading into the oppressive silence that enveloped her like a shroud.
Her breath quickened, each inhale heavy with anxiety. The silence behind the door felt suffocating, thick with unspoken words and long-buried memories, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something to break the stillness.
Just when I thought I had finally forgotten it all… he had to show himself again, Marceline thought bitterly, her inner voice laced with anguish. Why is it always me? Why can’t life just let me breathe for once?
She hovered at the brink of despair, about to sink to the ground, when the door creaked open, breaking the tension.
“Marceline?” a soft voice called, uncertainty weaving through it, nearly trembling with disbelief.
Cora stood there, her eyes wide and searching, a mix of shock and relief crossing her face. She clutched the doorknob as if trying to ascertain whether she was seeing a ghost or a miracle.
Marceline mustered a small, weary smile, her lips barely lifting. “Hey…”
Cora gasped—half laugh, half sob—and before Marceline could even step over the threshold, she was enveloped in a warm, desperate embrace, one that felt like a lifeline.
“Oh my God, I’ve missed you so, so badly,” Cora murmured against her shoulder, holding her tightly, as if releasing her might send Marceline vanishing into the wind.
“The same here,” Marceline whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of everything she had been holding in—the burden of her past clawing at her throat.
As she finally stepped inside, her legs dragged heavily, each movement a struggle as if the air around her had turned to lead. She collapsed onto the couch, her body falling against the cushions like a discarded rag doll, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment as exhaustion threatened to consume her.
“What would you like to have?” Cora asked, concern etching deeper lines across her face, her nurturing instinct flaring to life.
“Water,” Marceline replied hoarsely, her throat dry and parched. “Please, just water.”
Cora nodded quickly, her expression a mixture of worry and urgency as she disappeared into the kitchen. The apartment breathed with a warmth that wrapped around Marceline, its scent redolent with cinnamon and warm vanilla—a faint trace of a candle Cora had probably lit earlier. The aroma wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, offering a momentary balm to her raw, frayed nerves.
Marceline sat still, her heart racing, trying to control her breathing, fighting against tears that threatened to spill over the dam she had carefully built around her emotions.
A few minutes later, Cora returned, carrying a glass filled with cool, clear water. She handed it to Marceline, who took it with trembling fingers, raising it to her lips and drinking slowly, as though each sip was a tether, grounding her back to reality.
“I was expecting you tomorrow,” Cora said gently, concern deepening the warmth in her voice as she took a seat across from her, scrutinizing Marceline with those familiar, caring eyes.
Marceline set the empty glass on the table beside her, her gaze drifting toward the window but seeing nothing beyond the heavy clouds of her thoughts, weaving in and out of focus.
“I needed someone to talk to,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “My head... it feels like it’s about to catch fire.”
Cora leaned forward, brows knitting together with worry. “You don’t look okay. Are you feeling sick?”
Marceline hesitated, her eyes flicking to Cora’s and then away again, the weight of her secrets pressing down on her.
“I’m fine,” she replied, the words slipping out too quickly, too flatly, devoid of conviction.
Cora didn’t believe her; she could see it etched in the lines on Marceline’s face, but she chose not to press the matter. Not yet.
“So... the job,” Cora said cautiously, treading into the territory of small talk, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you get it?”
Marceline let out a brittle laugh—a humorless sound that shattered the brief silence, her hands clenching into fists on her lap, a storm brewing within her.
“Do you know who the CEO of the company is?” she asked, her voice tight, simmering with a barely contained edge.
“No.” Cora leaned back casually in her chair, a sliver of mischief glimmering in her eyes, as if she were sharing the juiciest gossip rather than a grave revelation. “I only found out the CEO is ruthless and doesn’t take shit from anyone. But as long as you do your job well, you’re safe.”
Marceline’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup, the ceramic feeling cool against her clammy palms. She swallowed hard, the sensation scraping her throat like shards of glass. “Of course he would be ruthless,” she muttered to herself, bitterness curling in her words.
Cora blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Marceline lowered her voice to a whisper, as though entrusting a secret that might shatter her world. “I met Cross,” she breathed, the admission weighing heavily on her chest, as if she had just released an insidious truth.
Cora straightened in her seat, alarm flashing across her features like a sudden summer storm. “Which Cross are you talking about?” Her voice acquired a sharp edge, urgency infusing every syllable. “Don’t tell me it’s who I’m thinking.”
Marceline gave a slow, deliberate nod, each movement steeped in gravity. “He’s the one.”
Cora gasped, her eyes widening. “What? Oh my God. Celine, I’m so sorry—I didn’t even know he was the CEO. If I’d known, I never would’ve suggested you apply for that position!”
Marceline raised a trembling hand, imploring silence as she fought against the tide of memories crashing over her. “It’s fine, Cora. I’m not blaming you. You couldn’t have known,” she reassured her friend, the words faltering at the end, like something deep inside her was fracturing.
Cora leaned forward, her expression morphing into one of deep concern. “So what happened? Did you lose the job?”
“I wish I had,” Marceline whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, filled with an unsettling calm. “Because what I’m about to step into... It’s a nightmare I never imagined would come back to haunt me.”
Cora stared intently, her mouth slightly agape. “What are you talking about? Please, make me understand.”
Marceline’s lips twisted into a bitter semblance of a smile, devoid of humor. “He gave me the job,” she said slowly, each word laden with resignation. “And an offer that’s too intoxicating... and far too perilous.”
Cora leaned closer, hanging on her every word. “What kind of offer?”
“He wants me to marry him,” Marceline articulated, her breath hitching as the enormity of the statement crashed over her.
Cora’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. “What?!”
“To him, it’s not marriage,” Marceline continued, her tone hardened with bitterness. “It’s a weapon. A tool in his arsenal. He told me this is his way of breaking me, of forcing me to understand the anguish his mother endured because of mine. I could wear his ring, but in reality, I would merely be a vessel for his revenge.”
Cora sprang to her feet, disbelief radiating from her. “Cross must be out of his goddamn mind! He’s insane! Does he have any idea what you went through because of him?”
Marceline looked away, a wave of shame creeping up her spine, cold and unwanted. “What could I possibly tell him, Cora? That I lost the baby I carried for him? That I drowned in grief while he vanished? That night after night, for an entire year, I cried until I could hardly breathe.” Her voice trembled as the memories clawed at her sanity. “He’d just say I was seeking sympathy. That I was pathetic.”
Cora’s eyes brimmed with tears as she sank back onto the couch beside her. “So... what was your response? Please, tell me you didn’t accept it.”
Marceline remained silent for a moment, the weight of the world settling on her shoulders.
“I signed the contract,” she murmured, her voice resigned.
Cora jerked her head around, disbelief etched on her face as she stared at her friend like she had lost her sanity. “You what?” she snapped, incredulity washing over her. “Marceline, no! Tell me you’re joking!”
“I had no choice,” Marceline replied, her voice eerily calm, as though she were speaking of a past already resigned to fate. “He didn’t give me the luxury of rebellion or choice. It was either marry him or watch my family disintegrate.”
Cora’s expression froze in horror. “What are you saying?”
“He threatened them, Cora. My mother, my sisters. He promised they wouldn’t survive if I refused,” Marceline recounted, her voice shaking but resolute. “I saw it in his eyes—he meant every terrifying word.”
Cora’s face contorted with rage. “He’s a monster. A heartless, vindictive monster.”
“I know,” Marceline whispered, a heaviness dragging her down like an anchor. Her shoulders sagged, as if the burden of her sacrifice had already stripped her of will. “But I can’t risk losing them. Not them. If giving up my freedom and my happiness saves my family... then so be it.”
Cora reached out, enveloping her in a fierce hug that felt like a lifeline in turbulent seas. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve checked. I thought you were safe. I thought we had escaped the past...”
“I thought so too,” Marceline murmured against Cora’s shoulder, feeling the warmth seep into her chilled bones. “I thought I’d moved on. That I could forget. That I could finally live in peace. But he’s back, and this time... he doesn’t just want to hurt me; he wants to obliterate me completely.”
Cora held her tighter, a protective embrace brimming with fierce loyalty. “You don’t deserve this, Celine. You never did. You should be the one demanding revenge, not submitting to it. How dare he punish you for something you didn’t do!”
A long silence enveloped them, the air thick with unshed tears, reminding them of the storm brewing just beyond their walls. Outside, the wind howled softly, rustling leaves as if the world itself mourned with her.
Slowly, Marceline pulled back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “This isn’t love, Cora. This isn’t even hatred. It’s something darker. He wants to destroy me from the inside out.”
“Then fight back,” Cora urged, her voice fiery with determination. “Even if you feel trapped, find your strength. Make him regret ever thinking you’re weak.”
Marceline managed a small, broken laugh, tinged with desperation. “I don’t know if I have any strength left.”
“Well, then I’ll remind you,” Cora replied firmly, cupping her friend’s face in her hands, the intensity of her gaze penetrating through Marceline's armor. “You’re not alone in this. I’m with you. We’ll get through this—one breath at a time.”
In that quiet, pain-drenched moment, Marceline didn’t feel strong, nor did she feel brave. But amidst the storm of despair, she felt a flicker deep within her—a flicker that hinted at resilience waiting to ignite.
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