Unholy Vows

_Sienna's POV_

The thick stems of the white roses dug sharp thorns into my palms. My knuckles had turned bone-white around the bouquet, the grip tightening with every agonizing step I took down the long, red-carpeted aisle. The organ music swelled through the high arches of the massive church, a grand melody meant to signify joy and lifelong devotion. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, the single day a woman dreams of since childhood. My reality was a suffocating nightmare. I was wide awake, yet trapped inside a living, breathing horror show.

My father, Gideon, marched beside me with an unyielding posture. He did not hold my arm to guide me or offer a comforting paternal gesture. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my bicep like a steel vice, bruising the skin hidden beneath my long lace sleeves.

"Smile properly, you make it seem as if you're being forced." Gideon kept his low, menacing voice at a harsh hiss. His lips barely moved, ensuring the audience of elite mobsters filling the mahogany pews wouldn't notice a thing.

But I was being forced. In the ruthless, blood-soaked mafia world we belonged to, the illusion of choice did not exist. I knew the truth. I could be dragged to this very altar covered in bruises, weeping, and bleeding from my head. Not a single soul sitting in these wooden pews would bat an eyelash or offer a hand to help me. They would sit in their tailored suits and designer dresses, watching the spectacle with silent approval.

Waiting for me at the end of the aisle was Nolan. He stood next to the priest, a repulsive man wearing a smug, arrogant grin. He had been publicly accused of countless sex offenses, ruining the lives of dozens of women, but he was always shielded by his father's vast criminal power and wealth. Deep disgust churned in my stomach like battery acid as we reached the altar. Gideon handed me over, stepping back to take his place in the front row.

Nolan grabbed my waist. His palms were clammy, slick with hot sweat. I pushed his hands off my waist on instinct, unable to hide the sheer revulsion rolling off my skin.

"We'd get rid of this attitude after we're married." Nolan leaned close. His hot, foul breath washed over my cheek, draining the blood from my face.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Running away would mean a back riddled with bullets from my own father's men stationed at every exit. I stood trapped inside my heavy white gown, a prisoner waiting for the executioner's block.

The priest opened his gold-trimmed bible and began to drone on, reciting the traditional wedding vows. The ancient words felt like chains wrapping around my neck.

"Do you, Nolan, take Sienna to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to protect from this day forward..."

"I do." Nolan's reply was a sickening jolt back to my grim reality. The finality of his voice made my chest tighten.

"...Do you, Sienna, take Nolan to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to obey from this day forward..."

Then came my turn. A heavy, suffocating lump formed in my throat, choking my airways. Hot tears spilled over my lower lashes, trailing down my pale cheeks as an agonizing silence stretched across the entire church. Every mobster in the room knew I was a forced bride. They just watched me with fake pity, waiting for me to break.

"Sienna..." Gideon called out from his seat. A dark, lethal threat laced his sharp tone, promising hell if I embarrassed him.

"I-I..." I stuttered, my jaw trembling.

Before I could force the damning words out of my mouth, a massive crash shook the sanctuary. The heavy oak church doors at the entrance were pushed open with explosive force. The sudden noise whipped every head in the room toward the back.

A man stepped inside. He had shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair tightly tied back in a low ponytail. He held two massive handguns in his grip. His cold, piercing grey eyes swept the silent room with the predatory precision of a hunter analyzing his prey.

Without uttering a single word, he raised his hands and opened fire into the crowd.

Deafening gunfire shattered the stained glass windows. Bodies dropped to the marble floor in expanding pools of red. Screams tore through the air. My father's armed guards drew their weapons and returned chaotic fire, spraying bullets across the wooden pews.

Nolan shoved me aside. He threw me to the hard ground to clear his path, ducking low as he bolted toward the side exit to save his own pathetic life.

"To protect, huh?" I muttered sarcastically amidst the roaring chaos of the shootout. I pressed myself flat against the marble steps, shielding my head as chunks of plaster rained down from the ceiling.

Seizing the sheer chaos of the gunfight, I rolled behind a marble pillar. I kicked off my restrictive high heels, tossing them aside. I grabbed the hem of my heavy, dragging wedding dress and ripped the layers of fabric, freeing my legs. I scrambled to my feet and ran for my life.

A stray bullet whizzed past my ear. The intense heat of the metal kissed my skin, leaving a burning trail in its wake. I glanced back over my shoulder. The grey-eyed stranger stood in the center of the crossfire. He pointed his smoking weapon directly at me.

Pure panic and adrenaline fueled my frantic sprint. I pushed through the heavy side doors, bursting out of the church and into the sprawling parking lot. The harsh afternoon sun blinded me. The open concrete expanse gave me nowhere to hide. There were rows of vehicles in the distance, but the stretch of empty pavement between us left me exposed.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid if I were you." His deep, resonant voice echoed chillingly behind me, cutting through the distant sound of sirens.

I whirled around. I watched in terror as he stepped out into the sunlight. He casually reloaded his weapon, dropping the empty magazine onto the pavement and slamming a fresh one home. His dead eyes remained locked onto me.

Desperate, I tried to flee again. My bare foot caught on the torn, tangled layers of my ruined silk gown. I tripped, pitching forward and crashing hard to my knees. My palms slammed against the rough asphalt to break my fall. The sharp gravel pierced the tender flesh of my hand.

I let out a ragged sob. Bleeding and crying, I scrambled backward on my hands and knees like a cornered animal. I pushed myself across the hot pavement until my spine hit the cold, hard rubber of a parked car tire.

I was cornered. The stranger closed the distance with slow, measured steps. The shadow of his tall frame fell over me, blocking out the sun.

"Who-who are you?" I stuttered, staring up at the terrifying black barrel of his gun aimed right at the center of my face.

"Good night, Princess." He spoke with a chilling lack of emotion.

He cocked the heavy weapon. The definitive click rang loud and clear in the quiet parking lot.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I curled my bleeding hands against my chest and braced my body for the fatal bullet.

One second passed. Then another. The agonizing wait stretched on, but death didn't come. I cautiously opened my eyes to see why I was still breathing.

A blunt, heavy force collided with the side of my head. The metal grip of his gun cracked against my skull. My vision blurred into a dizzying smear of colors. A ringing sound deafened my ears. I slumped against the car tire, left with one final, fading image of his dark, emotionless eyes staring down at me before everything faded to absolute nothingness.