The Sinfully Wedded

Prologue

2 years ago...

"Jasmine, sweetheart!" I heard the sound of one of the maid's voices gently call through my bedroom door. I looked away from the TV and called out for her to come in, pausing the movie I had been watching.

"Hi, Maurice." I smiled as she walked in with a plate of dinner ready. She reciprocated and I gave her an expectant look but she shook her head, making my face fall in disappointment, "Has he at least called?"

"One of the guards informed me that he's busy with a job tonight, honey. He says your father said you'd understand and wouldn't be too upset." She smiled pitifully at me but it only made me feel worse.

My sixteenth birthday. He promised he'd be here.

"But he has left you a gift." She cheered, making my lips slightly twitch into a hopeful smile. When she pulled out an envelope, however, that hope dimmed almost immediately. She sighed, "I know it's hard but he's just trying to look out for you, Jas. Eat your dinner and we'll eat some of your birthday cake while watching another movie. How's that sound?"

I nodded, giving her a tight-lipped smile. She pressed a kiss against my head and left the tray of food on my bed then set the envelope on my bedside table before making her way out. After she closed my bedroom door, I sighed and brushed my hair out of my face, not even having the appetite to eat anymore.

After mom passed all those years ago, birthdays haven't been the same. Days, in general, haven't been the same. The first year, dad tried, I could see it. He tried to take on both roles, be a good role model and be there for me. But it seemed like only a day when he started using work as an excuse to just shrug me off, have the maids take care of me so he could go off doing God knows what.

His anger towards me grew with each given day. Sometimes, he'd come home drunk and either be sad, comforting and supportive or angry and tell me he never wanted me in the first place, only put up with my presence because of the woman he loved who was no longer here.

He always wanted a boy. An heir.

Then the next morning, he'd act as nothing happened. He'd mutter a good morning when I came down for breakfast then busy himself with his phone then kiss my forehead and said he'd be home in time for dinner.

He never was.

It was the false promises, the fake care and considerate act he'd still put up even though we both knew there was no point in trying anymore. The spark that a normal father and daughter should have was never there with us, I accepted that. Seems like he still looked at me as a naive little girl who didn't understand anything.

Didn't understand that she just wasn't wanted. Didn't understand that her mother died and is never coming back. Didn't understand that she was alone in this world with no one, not even her father, to turn to. No one.

I understood, not that he cared enough to pay attention. But I figured it out at an early age that it was just life and I had to push through, with or without his help. I managed to heal from it, believing that she was still watching over me somehow. He didn't, although he likes to pretend he has.

A few more years and I could move on from this life altogether. No more training, no more watching over my back and waiting for one of the monsters in our world to succeed at taking me the same way they took her then torture me to death.

Dad made sure I had the ability to defend myself, make sure I didn't depend on only guards to protect me. But it's not like I ever really needed to use the skills I developed. Being homeschooled, rich so people could fetch everything for me had its perks so I never had to face the outside world.