Married To A Cassanova Billionaire

I sat among the bevy of ladies who had made my stay here a living hell. Their laughter was sharp, merciless, and unrelenting, piercinginto my ears. Each chuckle was a weapon, a reminder that I didn't belong here. I didn't know when their hatred began or why I had become their target, but I had learned quickly that their cruelty wasn't a passing thing-it was as permanent as the bars on the windows and the locks on the doors.

Their whispers circled me like vultures, dissecting every part of me. My clothes, my face, my silence-they tore it all apart, feeding off the scraps of my dignity. My life has never been the same since I stepped foot into the coven of witches. My hands rested in my lap, trembling slightly, though I tried to keep them still. I had learned not to react. Reacting only made it worse. Still, the weight of their mockery pressed down on me, each insult like another stone added to the pile I was already struggling to carry.

Suddenly, a voice boomed through the room, cutting through the cacophony like a blade. "Does anyone know Thelma?" The mockery evident in her voice.

The room went quiet for a split second before erupting into a chorus of mocking replies.

"No!" the women shouted in unison, their voices loud and defiant. Their denial wasn't just an answer; it was an assault, a collective effort to erase me forever. The word slammed into me like coal, burning and unrelenting.

I froze in place, my chest tightening as though invisible hands were squeezing the air out of me. My name was not a comfort here. It wasn't even mine anymore. It had become something they used against me, a weapon wielded with scorn to make me feel smaller and more insignificant with every passing day.

My heart pounded in my chest as the room fell into silent again. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. A police officer barged into the cell, pulling me out by my arm.

"You're hurting me." I complained.

"Quiet" he scolded, the ladies crashed out laughters that seemed to have no end.

While Outside, I saw a man and a woman stepped inside, their presence commanding attention like a sudden gust of wind in a suffocating room.

The man's face was unreadable, his sharp jaw and piercing eyes giving nothing away. His suit was dark and neatly pressed, a stark contrast to the disarray of this place. Beside him, the woman carried a softer air. Her scarf draped loosely over her shoulders, and her warm brown eyes locked on me almost instantly. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength that seemed to fill the space around her.

"Thelma," the man said, his voice firm but not unkind. It wasn't a question; it was a statement, pulling me out of my frozen state like a rope pulling me from a deep well.

"How did you know my name" I murmured.

I trembled, slowly walking close to them, scraping loudly against the floor in the silence that followed. My movements felt sluggish, as if my body couldn't quite believe what was happening. Around me, the mocking grins and sneering faces of the officers began to falter. The air shifted, the atmosphere heavy with confusion and disbelief.

Who were these people? Why were they here for me? My thoughts raced, a hundred questions flooding my mind all at once. Relief and suspicion warred within me as I tried to process what was unfolding.

Has God sent angels to save me.

The woman stepped forward, her hand reaching out toward me. "We're here to take you home," she said softly, her voice like a balm soothing the frayed edges of my nerves.

Home.

The word struck a chord deep inside me, stirring something I thought I'd lost a long time ago. But a pang of uncertainty quickly followed. I didn't know these people neither did I have any home. Their faces were unfamiliar, and their sudden appearance felt surreal, almost too good to be true.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The man glanced at the woman, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. Then he turned back to me, his gaze steady. "It's a long story, Thelma," he said. "But we're here to help."

His words didn't answer my question, but there was something about the way he said them that made me want to believe him. Maybe it was the calm assurance in his voice, or maybe it was the sheer exhaustion of the torture and torment I faced each passing day. Either way, I found myself nodding, though I still felt the weight of doubt pressing against the edges of my mind.

The two officers who had been standing silently near the entrance of the station stepped aside, allowing the three of us to pass. As we walked out, the whispers of some deputies who felt I deserved whatever I had been through rose behind me again, though they sounded more confused than cruel now. I didn't look back. I couldn't. The air outside the room felt lighter, freer, though my heart still pounded in my chest.

The woman placed a gentle hand on my arm as we walked down the corridor. "You're safe now," she said quietly. "We'll explain everything soon."

Her words were meant to reassure me, but they only added to my confusion. Safe? How? I don't understand! I wasn't even sure what that meant anymore.

When we stepped outside, the cool breeze hit my face, and I realized how long it had been since I'd felt fresh air. The man led the way to a black car parked near the gate, its sleek exterior gleaming under the afternoon sun. He opened the back door for me, and I slid in hesitantly, the woman following close behind.

As the car pulled away, I glanced back at the building I was leaving behind. For so long, I had been in prison, both literally and figuratively. But even as relief washed over me, I couldn't shake the unease bubbling beneath the surface.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

The man glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Somewhere you can start over," he said simply, smiling like he just won a trophy.

The woman placed a reassuring hand on mine. "We've been looking for you for a long time, Thelma," she said. "You're not alone anymore. We're here for you"

Her words stirred something deep inside me-a mixture of hope and fear. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to believe, to have faith, even if just a little, that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

As the city blurred past the windows, I leaned back in the seat, my mind still racing. I didn't know who these people were or why they had come for me, but I knew one thing for certain: this was my chance to leave the darkness behind. And no matter what waited for me ahead, it had to be better than the hell I was leaving behind.