THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Jasmine’s POV

Crying was never the plan but I can’t help it as I push down the choking tide of panic building in me.

This isn’t happening.

Right before my eyes, my life has been stamped upon and I feel helpless. What can I do when the parents can’t even recognize their own child?

They seem to be scared of him too, just like I am.

Who is this man? A devil incarnate?

My body shakes with extreme fear as a sob escapes me and before I know it, I begin to cry loudly.

It is actually satisfying crying here. I guess it is making the reality dawn on me that I am in a huge mess, not just because I have been kidnapped but also because I would be married off to this evil man tomorrow morning.

I can’t seem to think of anything else to say to him to convince him that I am not her. Is he blind? Is he stupid to have mistaken me for her? Is this how much he is obsessed with her that he would do anything to satisfy his stupid ego?

The soft texture of the car’s leather seat isn’t going to console me as I sink deeper into it.

I hate him.

Right now, I wish I could be courageous enough to pierce my fingers into his skin to hurt him physically or fire a gun at him.

I hate him.

My tears increase at the realization that crying and hating a man who is sitting next to me without him getting troubled about my tears is the only thing I can do.

I can’t stand up to him. I can’t escape from the prison he is taking me back to.

Should I just agree? Tell him that I am Andre so he can let me off the hook?

Agreeing to all of this bullshit wouldn’t help a bit. He is so mad because he thinks I am her so admitting to his stupid assumptions won’t help. It will only worsen the situation.

What should I do? I ask myself as I cry into my palm, tasting my tears and wishing a miracle would just happen so I can go back to my real life.

Why is all of this happening to me? Is this because I was desperately wishing and praying for a change in my life’s pattern?

I knew I was so tired of living that impoverished life of being a cleaner where several men ogle and flirt with us and I was still finding it hard to pay my bills. I knew I wished for a change but this is definitely not what I want.

Right now, I would choose being that cleaner again rather than being here with a devil’s incarnate who cares less about my feelings or someone who isn’t even giving a damn if I cry myself to death or not.

Apparently, he is heartless and deranged.

As I continue to sob with my thoughts everywhere, an idea suddenly hits me.

Should I tell him to go with me to Chicago to make findings about me? I have stayed all my life there so he can investigate or question my neighbor and boss about me.

Maybe it will help.

Yes, it can help but I know he would never listen to me.

The thought tickles my nerves and I wail, feeling hurt like I have been inflicted with physical pain.

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” he barks angrily beside me.

I drop my palms, uncaring about my physical look before staring at him in the face. “No, I won’t”, I snap back at him waspishly.

He looks shocked at my outburst but then it is suddenly replaced with a sardonic smile. That sort of smile that makes me feel like he is expecting this outburst or he is doing all of this to get this reaction from me.

“I told you I am not her. What else do you want me to do to prove that?” My voice is surprisingly calm now. I am still filled with rage but I just feel like talking to him maturely and in a calm way would help.

He does not answer so I continue to weep.

“I am not her. I am Jasmine!” I sit upright and scream, stamping my legs on the car floor. “I have a job to go back to at home. What excuse do you want me to give to my boss for my absence? How do you expect me to pay my bills if he fires me? Why are you doing this to me?”

His silence is killing me, filling me with a deep sense of grief.

What else should I say?

I sniff, cry some more before wiping my tears and looking out of the car window. “I hate you for doing this to me.”

A scoff escapes his lips which makes me turn to him.

“You look smart but you aren’t smart. If you are, you would make your findings well so you won’t end up mistaking someone else for the woman who jilted you!” I say in between gritted teeth.

I don’t know where all of this is coming from but I am sure it is from my will to survive. When I said I hate him, I meant it.

Thinking my statement will touch a soft spot in him, I am about to take my eyes off him when he grabs me instantly, his fingers digging into my neck region in an attempt to strangle me.

My back hits the car seat and I sink into it again while struggling with him but his hold on me is firmer. His eyes are so cold, bringing back a sense of fear in me.

His eyes dance around with emotions I can’t place. Emotions that I wish to figure out desperately.

His breath fans my entire face, making me shut my eyes while he grits his teeth furiously and rasps out. “Don’t you dare speak back at me that way ever again? You lost that right the moment you fled to God knows where like a coward!”

He doesn’t believe anything I have said.

Even though I am tempted to scream and tell him I am not her again, I am choking.

I can’t breathe. His fingers enclose around my neck region tightly and shock runs through my veil, thinking he really wants to kill me.

I close my eyes as more tears pour, waiting for the cold hands of death to knock in as he sucks the life out of me with his hands around my neck but instead, he frees me, making me hack a cough and take in as much air as I could get.

He sits back in the space beside me, adjusts his jacket and picks up the big phone to continue what he was doing before I interrupted with my stupid tears.

Thankfully that I am not dead yet, tears continue to roll down my eyes.

This man will never believe a word I say. I guess it’s better I accept my fate, keep mute and let him do whatever he wants with me.

I will make my own findings and find that woman who has put me in this situation. Maybe then I will be able to talk again or I will be able to get his attention and he will believe me.

I don’t only hate him, I also hate her.

Andre Moore.

The real woman who is supposed to be married to this jerk but ran away like a coward.

I will make her pay for this.