"I don't want your money anymore," Jackson's voice, sharp and impatient, pierced the silence of Jessica's opulent Parisian apartment. "You could easily repay the debt within months. But I have a different desire, something far more valuable."
A chill ran down Jessica's spine. "What is it, Jackson? What do you want?"
"One of your daughters. In two days, I will arrive in France to claim her as my bride. No excuses, no delays." With a final menacing warning, Jackson severed the connection, leaving Jessica trembling in the dimly lit room.
The antique clock on the mantelpiece ticked ominously, a stark reminder of the rapidly approaching deadline. Jessica sank onto a plush velvet armchair, her mind racing. Jackson's demand was not only outrageous but utterly abhorrent. This was far beyond the terms of their arrangement. While she acknowledged her debt of one hundred thousand dollars, it didn't warrant such a grotesque demand. Desperation gnawed at her as she searched for an escape, but her options seemed impossibly limited. Jackson was no ordinary creditor; he was a man accustomed to wielding power, an enigma, a man of shadows and whispers, and a force of nature who brooked no defiance. To cross him was to invite catastrophe.
However, despite his shrouded past, his reputation for ruthlessness preceded him. He commanded fear and respect in equal measure. A history of brushes with the law, including accusations of heinous crimes, had solidified his image as a dangerous individual. His notoriety made genuine connections elusive, further fueling Jessica's dread. The thought of her daughters entangled with such a man was unbearable. Protecting them from this malevolent force was her sole priority.
Jessica's gaze softened momentarily as she pictured her daughters, Helen and Kelly, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities of the world. The thought of sacrificing their innocence to appease Jackson filled her with guilt. But then, like a bolt of lightning, a wicked solution illuminated her mind. Kate. Her late sister's daughter, an unwanted burden she had reluctantly taken in. A cruel smirk twisted Jessica's lips as she envisioned her scheme. With a gleeful clap, she revelled in her own perceived brilliance. Kate would be the sacrificial lamb, a pawn to settle the family's debt. The more Jessica pondered this twisted plan, the more her heart swelled with perverse satisfaction.
"Kate! Kate!" Jessica's shrill voice echoed through the house, tinged with a manic glee.
"Yes, ma?" Kate's timid voice responded from the kitchen. She hastily dried her hands on her apron and hurried downstairs, eager to avoid incurring Jessica's wrath.
Jessica's eyes narrowed as Kate entered the room. "Daughter of the devil," she spat, "were you deaf to my summons? Did you think I'd cook you breakfast in bed before you deigned to present yourself?"
Kate flinched, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry, ma."
"Kate," Jessica announced, her voice dripping with false sympathy, "you have a remarkable opportunity before you. You're going to marry Jackson in the next two days. He can offer you a life of comfort and security, far more than you could ever achieve on your own." She paused, her eyes raking over her worn clothes and downcast expression. "Think of it as a chance to escape this dreary existence and finally make something of yourself ."
"But, Mum... Kate's protest died on her lips as Jessica's hand roughly covered her mouth.
"Don't you dare argue," Jessica hissed. "And lose the 'Mum.' I am no mother to you. You're merely a leftover from my sister's tragic passing, a burden I've borne for far too long. This marriage is your only salvation, your only chance to repay my generosity. My daughters are far too precious for such a fate. It's either you marry him or leave my house to the street, Kate. You have two days to prepare." With a self-satisfied smirk, Jessica turned and left the room, her footsteps accompanied by a mocking melody.
Kate stood frozen in the parlour, tears streaming down her face, still standing in the same spot where Jessica had delivered the devastating news. She had heard the whispers about Jackson his ruthlessness, his arrogance, the mysterious life he led despite his immense wealth. And she wondered how she would be able to cope. She knew she held no affection in Jessica's heart, nor the hearts of her daughters. But this latest cruelty was a new low. To be married off to a rumoured ex-convict, a social pariah with a fearsome reputation... it was a fate worse than death. Kate's mind raced with the accusations she'd heard whispered about Jackson, if even half of them were true, she was doomed. This wasn't just jumping from the frying pan into the fire; it was leaping straight into the inferno.
********
Kate's body bore a map of pain, a patchwork of fresh and fading scars inflicted by Jessica and her daughters. Years of relentless abuse, beatings, insults, ceaseless labour, and even starvation had eroded Kate's spirit and left her with a deep-seated fear of humanity. Denied even the most basic kindness, she was clothed in rags, her self-worth diminished to nothing.
The prospect of escaping one hell only to be thrust into another filled Kate with despair. Was she destined for a life of misery? Why would Jessica condemn her to such a fate? And why would this mysterious Jackson, a stranger, desire her above Jessica's flesh and blood?
***********
The following morning, a day before Jackson's arrival, Jessica summoned Kate with an unexpected proposition—a shopping trip for new clothes. Kate was caught off guard, a mixture of shock and suspicion washing over her. She knew Jessica's motives all too well. This wasn't an act of kindness but a calculated move to ensure Jackson wouldn't reject her in favour of Jessica's daughters. After all, who would willingly choose a penniless, unworldly girl who had been practically imprisoned within the confines of their home?
These thoughts brought a pang of longing for her mother, Becky. No one could ever love and protect her like her own mother would have. If only Becky were still alive, Kate's life wouldn't be this cruel, this unfair. She wouldn't be facing this impending doom.
"Kate," Jessica's voice cut through her thoughts, "Helen will lend you some clothes. Change and meet me downstairs. We're going shopping. Your husband arrives tomorrow, and you need to look presentable." A venomous threat laced her words. "If he rejects you, you're out on the streets. And trust me, they won't be kind to you."
YOU ARE READING
My Mysterious Husband
言情"The moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew that you weren't her real daughter, a real daughter wouldn't have five fingers print on a face caused by a slap, and she wouldn't have let me marry you without a white wedding, please don't ask me how I knew...
