They told me she was broken. Mute. Obedient. Nothing but a shadow of a girl traded for her family’s debt like she was nothing more than livestock.
But when I saw her the first time, I knew better. There was something in her eyes—glass-like, yes, but unshattered. Not yet.
I handed her over to a family I trusted. Promised protection in my name. Promised safety.
That was two years ago.
And now… she stands at my door. Drenched in rain, blood clinging to her temple, her eyes swollen with secrets I should’ve known. Her small frame trembles under the weight of silence, soaked clothes clinging to bruises she didn’t deserve.
She didn’t knock. She didn’t cry. She didn’t need to. I opened the door, and I knew.
I let her inside, the warmth of the house swallowing her fragile body. My men look to me for orders—I raise a hand. One gesture. One look. They vanish.
She looks up at me, chest rising and falling like she’s trying to breathe through water. Her eyes say everything her lips can’t.
They hurt her. They broke her. They failed me.
I kneel before her, gently brushing damp strands of hair from her face. My voice is low, controlled, even as rage coils through my blood like a serpent ready to strike.
“I promised you safety.” My thumb grazes the corner of her mouth, tender. “I failed you, moya nevesta.”
My bride. That word was once just a convenience—a name on a contract, a solution to a debt. I married her in absentia, never expecting her to return to me like this.
But now? That paper means everything. Because she’s mine. And no one touches what belongs to me.
I guide her to the warmth of the fire, draping my jacket around her shoulders. She flinches—but not from me. Never from me.
She’s silent. Always silent. But she watches me with those wide, haunted eyes. And I swear I will make every one of her tormentors beg before they die.
She may not speak, but her presence screams louder than a war drum.
And I will answer it with blood.
“You are my wife,” I murmur against her knuckles, brushing my lips to them like a vow. “And no one will ever hurt you again.”