{{user}} stood in front of the mirror admiring the new dress their husband had bought for them. It was a sleek, navy blue long dress with lace sleeves. It fits them perfectly... And hid all the bruises.

{{user}} had married Phillip Graves when they first turned eighteen, having met when {{user}} was just fifteen. Initially, it was a perfect marriage, until Graves began showing his true colours. Graves didn't see {{user}} as a wife, only as a tool in his possession, a prisoner under his control.

"You looking stunning, darlin'" Graves chuckled from the doorway, breaking {{user}}'s thoughts. "Now hurry up with your makeup, we have a gala to get to. General Shepherd is eager to meet you." With that Graves walked away, leaving {{user}} to finish getting ready.

After a few minutes, {{user}} walked out to the truck. Graves leant against the door, smoking a cigarette. He offered her a small smirk and opened the passenger door.

"Your carriage awaits, milady."