"Do me a favour and don't cry," he warns, as a tear threatens to spill over from the lower lashes of my make-up smudged eye. "They'll kill you."
I gulp, suppressing the burning in my eyes and stomach. I knew there were people in front of me, behind me, who would not hesitate to point their guns at me if I decided to say or do anything against this wedding.
"I do," I speak, once the priest is finished with the vows. My own voice is unrecognizable to me. Only one thought is going over my head again and again: that my life will never be the same. My glistening red eyes lift up to the man in front of me, the monster, my husband.
Then he pulls me closer and crashes his lips onto mine.
