Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ
Chapter 62

Recovery I woke up in a hospital bed. It must have been early morning since the sun was slowly rising in orange-red. I could see its beautiful colors getting inside through the window. When I turned my head away from the glow, I noticed that I had an I drip attached to my arm, and then I saw one more thing... the shreds of my dirtied wedding gown, hanging by the closet behind the metal drip stand. The sight of it squeezed my chest painfully. I spent days dreaming about the moment Aren would see me wearing that amazing gown, and now, it just hung there devastated.

"They will pay for what they did." Only then did I see Miranda sitting by the foot of my bed. Her eyes were swollen and red from tears, her jaw clenched. "Miranda..." I muttered, giving her a faint smile. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, swallowing tears. "We shouldn't have left you alone..." "You couldn't have known. It's not your or Monique's fault. You were helping me with the wedding..." I paused as my eyes unknowingly drifted to my wedding gown. "This would have been a wonderful ceremony, wouldn't it?" I smiled bitterly. I should probably be grateful for being alive and not care about material things, and yet I couldn't help but be seriously pissed that everything I had worked hard to plan had been taken away from me. "We will arrange a better one, you'll see. As soon as you recover..." Her voice cracked as she tried to restrain her tears. "Don't cry," I said with a little chuckle. "It was scary, I won't lie, but I was lucky enough to survive, and that's all that matters."

I tried to make my words sound confident, but I still shivered as I recalled what had happened and how I had felt, imprisoned. Miranda brushed the tears off her cheeks and cleared her throat before turning on her doctor mode. "I will take you off the drip now. You had enough," she said, stepping closer to take out gauze and antiseptics from the cabinet by my bed, "Those fuckers hit your head hard. Luckily, it caused only a mild concussion, but the wound itself needed stitches..." "Stitches?" I mumbled fearfully as my hand went to the back of my head. As I touched the thick dressing, I froze. I had clearly been high on adrenaline while trying to escape from the warehouse, enough not to realize that I had been bleeding from a wound on my head. "We needed to shave a small area of your hair to dress the wound properly. It couldn't be avoided... But the hair will grow back once we remove the stitches." Miranda gave me a wry smile.

Now I wanted to cry... and kill those bastards! My long hair was one of the features I was proud of, and I was going to have a bald spot in the middle?! Suddenly, the destroyed wedding and the wedding gown lost their importance.

"H-how big is it?" I asked and held my breath.

"Less than two inches needed shaving. Don't worry too much. It's a straight line spot, so it will be easy to cover with other hair until it grows back," she assured.

I heaved a sigh of relief. My concern might have been shallow, but I had only started to regain my self-esteem recently and was still hypersensitive about every issue. Even if it was dumb of me, I just didn't want Aren to stop calling me beautiful...

"The cut on your face wasn't deep. I put an ointment on it so there won't be any scars," Miranda continued. "Aside from that, there are some bruises and a few abrasions on your cheek, wrists, and waistline. Those will heal in a few days.

I nodded, stretching my lips into a dry grimace. I was highly aware that there was more to healing than just my physicality. "Where is Aren?" I asked, desperate to feel his arms around me again. "He had to handle some matters with the FBI an hour ago, but he was sitting by your bed the entire time." Miranda grinned teasingly at that last part, but I was more concerned with what she said before that. “FBI?” I muttered, raising my eyebrows. I was almost certain that none of those people who had rescued me had an FBI emblem.

"As far as I know, the official version would be that you were attacked by a criminal group who kidnapped you for ransom, and the FBI agents retreated you from the hands of the criminals," she explained. "Official version..." My lips twisted into a lopsided smile.

Miranda sighed. "Yes.... Aren is handing over those fuckers to the bureau to handle, so they need to come up with a believable story. Besides, that will be suitable for the press as well..."

"The press?" My eyes widened in surprise. "What does the press have to do with it?"

I instantly remembered the way Aren and his team handled the whole not-engagement party with Liam's ex, Nicole. There was no trace that the event had ever been planned then, but now they needed to give the press a reliable story?

Miranda laughed nervously. "Things got slightly out of hand after you were kidnapped."

I sat up on my bed and grabbed her hand. "What do you mean?" "Well... Monique and I were gone for like fifteen minutes. When we came back into the room, we saw one of your shoes and blood on the carpet. Aren arrived a few minutes later, and when he found out that you were missing, he nearly lost it. He ended up beating the mansion's head of security into a bloody pulp, then someone else tipped the press... and it all became hectic. It was only thanks to Neil that things didn't go even more south. Truthfully, I had never seen Aren so feverish and bloodthirsty but, at the same time, lost as if a part of him was missing." Her words made my eyes wet with tears. I couldn't only imagine what kind of torment I would feel if he was the one missing. Every second with him gone would have been hell. Had it felt like that for him...? My heart started to pound frantically as I thought about it.

"And... what happened after?" I inquired anxiously.

"They checked the surveillance and found out that you were abducted by two men and taken away in a truck. There were a lot of vehicles going in and out that day, and the guards at the gate didn't even bothe to check who was leaving. Once Augustus Winton came to the mansion, Aren lashed out at him, claiming that he was responsible for the kidnapping. A while later, Aren's team found the kidnappers' trail and they left. That's all I know," she said.

I sighed, processing her words. "Thank you for telling me."

"Of course." Miranda smiled.

A second later, the door opened, and Aren walked into the room. He looked tired, but his eyes brightened up as he looked at me. The smile that formed on his full lips took my breath away. I barely heard Miranda say, "I will leave you two alone," and couldn't remember the moment she left the room.

Aren sat on my bed and leaned over me. His hand delicately stroked my hair while his eyes carefully examined my condition. "I'm going to kill those bastards for what they did to you," he squeezed through his lips. I faintly placed my hand on top of his. "Did you catch... all of them?" I asked as my heart started to race.

Aren shook his head. "We only caught useless pawns. They are being interrogated right now, but they were all mercenaries with little knowledge about who they worked for." "I can help," I said, giving his hand a little squeeze. He sighed heavily. "I wanted to keep you away from this mess." I chuckled bitterly. "I'm already a part of this mess, don't you think? The one behind all of this said that he was doing it because he hates you. I didn't see him, but I could recognize his voice. And there was Callan "

"Callan?! That fucker was there?!" My words brought him to the verge of bursting into fury." Did he do something to you?" he asked, struggling to keep mere shreds of his composure. I smiled and stroked his cheek. "I heard stupid nothing but threats from him... but he was clearly the one who helped organize my kidnapping." Aren grabbed my hand and kissed it, his anger slowly disappearing underneath my touch. "I had already assumed that he could be behind this, but we gathered only circumstantial evidence..." He locked his eyes on me, guilt flashing in his irises.

My chest squeezed. "You did your best to protect me," I assured.

"Not enough," he muttered before taking a deep breath. "I promised myself that I would never kill anyone of my own blood... but this fucker has to be punished for what he did. The FBI will help, but..... "But?" I inhaled restlessly.

Aren grabbed my other hand in his, his thumbs slightly rubbing the backs of my palms. "You would have to testify against him. It wouldn't be like giving testimony in front of a court, but

still, you would have to face him. If you don't feel that you are up for this, then-"

"I'll do it." The words escaped my mouth in a rush.

"Are you certain?" His eyes read my expression with deep concern.

"I'm positive," I replied. I was done being a victim. This time I was going to make those who hurt me pay for it dearly.