The Mafia's Son (BWWM)

Two: Kids Are Still Depressed When You Dress Them Up✔

Osa's POV

I'm seventeen, walking down the aisle to marry someone who looked like they were at least three times my age, did not practice any kind of hygiene, and oh – who also kidnapped me.

I couldn't believe my luck.

If that didn't make it bad enough, I knew no one was looking for me. No one cared, and I . . . I was going to be stuck here.

Tears flowed freely as I walked awkwardly by myself.

His grin never failed as he stared at me from the place of bonding, a priest standing with what I assumed to be his bible in his hands.

I looked around and wondered if the people who attended knew that I was there against my will. I wondered if they would help if I asked. I'm sure they knew exactly what was going on though, just by the way they either looked at me or full-on avoided my eyes like I was the strangest thing ever.

If there were any positives it would be this dress. It was beautiful and so was the venue, littered with beautiful lights and ever-so-bright flowers. It's just devastating that I had to experience it like this.

To my disappointment, I had finally reached him.

He reached out and roughly grabbed my hand, pulling me up to where he stood, and I cried out in pain as his fingers dug into my scars.

"You really took your time," he shakes his head as if irritated.

He flips my arm over, finding the marks that ran along my wrists up to my arm.

I expected him to be disgusted, maybe dismayed. Any emotion other than the large grin, and excitement that displayed instead.

"So you're used to pain. Brilliant!"

My spine stiffens, and for the remainder of the ceremony, I felt numb. I remained quiet as they skipped past the second where we did our spoken vows and repeated the words that were asked of me.

When the time came to say our I do's, I quickly turned into a sobbing mess. No one minded though, not even him, frankly he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Do you, Mr. Carter take . . ." The priest motions to me as I throw my eyes to the floor in shame, "to be your beloved wife?"

"I do," He chuckles.

"And do you . . Ms. . er. . take Mr. Carter to be your beloved husband?"

I choked up. Tears continued to swell in my eyes, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. His hands tighten on my hand, his lips pursed tightly and his black orbs pierced into mine.

I open my mouth to reply, but as soon as I do, a pew sound erupted in the air, and Mr. Carter's grip loosed from my hand as he drops to his knees, his eyes wide and a bullet pierced through his head.

My mouth is agape as the blood from his wound lay all over my face and dress, but I couldn't stay shocked for long. The entire venue was chaos, everyone tried to run, but bodies were dropping like flies.

I crawled among them, trying to get away as my heart raced in my chest.

"Not the girl!" One of the shooters shouts, and I'm crawling over dead bodies, slipping in blood only to hand something thrown over my head, and around my neck.

#

Just when I thought I'd be put out of my misery, I'm held with my hands clasped behind my back, still unable to see anything.

Numerous footsteps walk alongside me, and I hold my breath as we keep rounding corners. No one made a single noise and I realize that once again, I have been kidnapped.