Chapter Four - Kahlan's POV - The Clock Is Ticking

I spent the next few days in bed, curled up beneath the blankets, drowning in an ocean of silent tears. My body ached from exhaustion, my mind numb from grief. I had cried until my throat burned, until my eyes were so swollen they barely opened.

I didn't care.

I refused to marry Emiliano.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face—the man who had struck me in the airport, the man who sneered at me like I was nothing. And now, I was expected to spend the rest of my life tied to him?

Then there was my mother, pressuring me to do it against all odds. How could they want to take away my life "for the family?"

"Let us leave, mother!" I cried to her that night.

"Leave?" She laughed weakly, shaking her head. "Kahlan, do you think Emiliano is the only one we owe? Your father is drowning in debts. If we don't do this, everything will be taken from us. Everything."

Tears stung my eyes. "So that's it? You just want to sell me off?"

"Kahlan—"

"No!" I stood, my legs trembling beneath me. "I will not be a part of this."

She reached for me, but I pulled away, my chest heaving.

Her voice wavered. "Please. I know this isn't fair, but your father... He needs treatment. And Jim has already abandoned us."

I froze. "What?"

She exhaled shakily. "Jim left this morning. Took whatever money we had left and disappeared."

A deep, hollow dread settled in my stomach.

Jim was gone. He had abandoned us to sink.

I turned away, gripping the edge of the dresser for support. "So we're just supposed to hand me over to him?"

Tears slipped down my mother's cheeks. "If we don't, Emiliano will take everything."

And he did.

Within days, our accounts were drained. One by one, properties were stripped from us. The house we lived in, our only sanctuary, was next. Emiliano had sent his men to oversee the eviction personally. I watched as the furniture was removed, as the family portraits were ripped off the walls.

"You can't do this!" I screamed in tears at Emiliano, who stood near the entrance, sipping a glass of wine as if this were all a show.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, but I can. You had your chance, Kahlan. You refused my offer. So now, I take what I'm owed."

My mother stood beside me, clutching my hand. "Where are we supposed to go?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Emiliano shrugged. "Not my problem."

I felt something inside me snap.

"Listen to us!" I lunged for him, but his men blocked my path. He smirked, sipping his drink.

"Careful, sweetheart. You're about to be my wife. Best not to start a war you can't win."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

This wasn't happening.

I looked at my mother, her face pale and stricken. I looked at the house—our home—being torn apart. I thought of my father, lying in a hospital bed, waiting for treatment we couldn't afford.

I had nothing.

I had no options.

And that's how, two days later, I found myself standing in front of a cold, lifeless altar, whispering vows that sealed my fate. Emiliano slid the ring onto my trembling finger, his lips curving into a triumphant smirk as I choked back sobs.

"Smile, wife," he murmured when the ceremony was over, leaning in close enough that his breath fanned against my skin. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're unhappy."

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to rip the ring off my finger and throw it in his face.

Instead, I stood there, silent and broken.

***

I visited my father the next day. The hospital smelled of antiseptic and sickness, the white walls suffocating. My heart pounded as I neared his room, my hands shaking. I hesitated outside the door, taking a deep breath. Then, just as I reached for the handle, I heard voices inside.

Emiliano's voice.

I froze, pressing myself against the wall, listening.

"You should be grateful," Emiliano was saying, his tone light but laced with cruelty. "Your daughter is now mine. And in return, I've cleaned up your mess. But make no mistake—I didn't do this out of kindness."

Silence.

Then my father's voice, weak and strained. "You… you're a monster."

Emiliano chuckled. "No, old man. I'm just a businessman. And if your daughter ever steps out of line… I'll make sure she suffers. Just like you."

My blood ran cold.

Then I heard someone choking. No! I pushed the door open. "Father—"

He lay there, his body convulsing. His eyes rolled back, his hands clawing at his chest.

"Dad? Dad!" I screamed, rushing to his side. His body jerked violently, his breathing ragged.

Nurses stormed in, pushing me aside.

"Help him!" I sobbed.

The beeping of machines turned into one long, piercing sound.

No.

No, no, no.

A doctor pushed me back as a nurse called out, "He's crashing!"

"Dad, please!" I begged, my voice raw.

I felt Emiliano's presence behind me, calm and collected as chaos erupted around us.

And then—

Silence.

The machines went still.

A soft, final exhale escaped my father's lips.

I stared at him.

I waited for him to wake up.

He didn't.

A doctor whispered something. I barely heard it over the ringing in my ears.

Time of death.

I turned slowly, my vision blurry with rage. "You killed him," I whispered, my voice shaking.

Emiliano scoffed. "I did no such thing."

"You threatened him! You pushed him—"

Before I could finish, a sharp crack echoed through the room as Emiliano's hand collided with my cheek. I stumbled back, pain exploding across my face. Gasps filled the air.

"Shut your mouth," he murmured, his voice deadly.

I clutched my cheek, tears spilling down my face. "You're a monster," I whispered.

Emiliano pulled out a thick stack of cash and tossed it to the doctor. "For your silence."

And just like that, every witness in the room turned a blind eye. I looked around, my stomach twisting in disgust. No one would help me. No one would save me.

I was alone.

Emiliano leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "Welcome to your new life, wife."

I wanted to die.