BITTER ESCAPE

ZARYA ROGOV

They were here to take me, and all I could do was present myself as a fine dish to be chosen and consumed.

I wore a long black dress that clung perfectly to my figure, with my long black hair left to rest on my hips. Black was perfect for mourning.

As I descended the stairs with my mother beside me, I could feel anxiety creeping up in my veins. I wanted them to reject me, but I knew if that happened, my father would make my life a living hell.

My heels clanked against the hard marble as I walked towards the living room. My face was already heating up from all the inner turmoil I was feeling.

The closer I got to the living room, the more I felt like running away, and when I reached it, I couldn't help but scan around the room. He was here with his parents. He sat in the middle of the couch, legs sprawled open, like he already owned this house.

Mannerless.

My gray eyes clashed against his blue ones, and I could already feel mischievous intentions oozing out of him. Wow, father protected me all this time just to serve me to someone like him? He looked like he would sell me off.

Wow, how great.

"Oh, here she is, my princess." Father stood up and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me to his side. My princess? More like his puppet. My father deserved an Oscar award after putting on the role of such a loving father.

"Dear, serve tea to your soon-to-be husband," Father ordered, but I didn't move from my place until his grip painfully tightened on my shoulder, and I almost scrunched my nose due to the pain.

"Come on, don't be shy." I knew if I delayed any longer, he would break my bones, so before I knew it, I was walking towards the coffee table.

My eyes went slightly towards his parents, and they were watching me, really watching me like a hawk, with no polite smile on their faces. They looked like those cruel in-laws. I immediately lowered my gaze back to the table.

Afraid they would notice my trembling hands, I began to get even more nervous. Kneeling elegantly, I began to pour tea for all of them.

Thankfully, my hands remained steady as I poured the tea.

But when it came to handing over the tea to him, my hands began to shake, and I took a deep breath to calm myself, but that did nothing to stop the trembling.

He leaned forward and took the tea from my hand. He deliberately put his hand over mine, giving it a light squeeze, and that was enough to send a jolt of current through my body.

"Thanks," he said with nonchalance, almost irritating. I was already irritated by him. How was I supposed to marry him and stay with him? I'd rather die.

I gave him a brief nod and quickly served his parents before stepping aside. My mother caressed my back with a little smile. "You're doing great, sweetie." I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"Come here, sit with us," his mother gestured towards the space on her left side, and my mother lightly patted my back to move forward. As I settled down on her left side, the lady analyzed me from head to toe as if I were a product on the black market.

The men began to talk about their stuff, and I couldn't help but imagine what would happen if I stood up and walked away from here.

"So what are your hobbies?" His mother asked.

"I like to sketch, read, bake, and sometimes gardening." I kept my tone soft and polite. His mother nodded. She said nothing and took a sip of her tea. Her expressions didn't waver, and there was no ounce of softness on those features.

She slightly leaned forward.

"This is an important question, and I want you to answer it honestly, okay?" the old lady asked, and I hesitantly nodded, looking at my mother who stood beside our couch, listening to us attentively.

"Are you untouched?" She asked without any hesitation. Gladly, her voice wasn't high enough.

My eyes slightly widened as I looked at the old lady.

What kind of question was that?

How dare she ask me such a question when her own son was a famous womanizer?

The hypocrisy, the audacity.

I cleared my throat, hands clenching on my lap.

I barely left this house. Of course, I was a virgin, but if I knew I was to marry someone like him, I wish I weren't so pure.

"Y-yes," I forced myself to speak.

"Great," the lady said and took another sip of her tea.

****

They just left after finalizing the wedding date.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes caressed my slightly swollen right cheek. A sign of me just trying to speak for myself. After they left, I tried to change my father's mind, even though I knew it was useless, and when I said I would hate to marry a man like you, aka a coward and a womanizer, I ended up receiving a slap.

Both my cheeks would have been swollen if Caesar hadn't stepped in to stop Father.

But... enough was enough. I thought at least marriage would take me away from this hell of a house, but no, the other side was even worse.

I've been compliant all my life. Now it was enough.

I needed to escape. Get out of this hell before it swallows me whole.

Immediately changing into black baggy trousers and a gray top, I grabbed all my saved money, stuffed a few pairs of clothes in my bag, and immediately left the room. I needed to be hidden until the wedding date passed.

Descending the stairs, I crossed the living room, which was engulfed in darkness. There was no way I would be able to escape from the front doors, judging by how tight the security was, so I decided to take the back door.

It's been eight years since I stopped running out of the mansion.

Eight years since the incident that gave me this anxiety, but ironically, I couldn't recall that incident at all.

After that, I stopped running away.

I confined myself, embraced this hell.

But no more.

Throwing some blocks of stone, I stood up on them and tried to climb the wall, only for my hands to end up scratched, but despite the pain, I didn't give up. Even though I knew the camera was recording all my movements, I still didn't stop, not until I ended up harshly on the ground right on the other side of the wall.

"Agh!" I ended up almost spraining my ankle.

Shit! Taking the support of the wall, I stood up and immediately limped away. I knew my actions had consequences, but the guilt of not trying would kill me.

The man stared at the screen, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he grabbed his phone and called someone. He waited for the other person to pick up the call as he leaned back in his chair and watched the Rogov princess disappear into the night.

The call was finally answered by a deep, commanding, "Speak,".

"I've got news for you, boss."

"Spill it,"

"Your enemy's daughter..." He paused.

"What about her?"

"She got guts."

"Come to the point."

"She ran away from Rogov's mansion."

"..."

"What are you gonna do now?"

"Give her my surname."