Page 1 of Entrapped
Chapter 1
The morning air was crisp, filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers as I stepped outside onto the great lawn. The bright sun, casting a golden glow over the hundreds of white chairs lined in perfect rows.
Guests filled them, their murmurs a soft hum beneath the gentle strains of classical music. The altar, a grand structure adorned with ivy and white roses, stood at the end of the long aisle, a beautiful lie waiting to consume me.
My parents stood on either side of me, their arms linked with mine. My father looked at me with a mixture of pride and emotion, while my mother gave me a reassuring smile, her eyes glistening with tears.
They were happy, blissfully unaware of the truth I had uncovered just hours before. Or maybe they were, and I just didn’t know it. The truth that Colson Ashworth, the man waiting for me at the end of this aisle, was part of the family that had destroyed ours.
I could barely feel the ground beneath my feet as we started down the aisle. My body moved on autopilot, each step taking me closer to a future I no longer wanted. The guests rose from their seats, turning to watch me with admiration and joy. But all I could think about was the file I had found in Colson’s office, the cold, hard evidence of how his father had ruined my grandfather, leaving us with nothing.
Colson stood at the altar, looking every bit the part of the perfect groom. His dark hair was neatly combed, his suit impeccably tailored, and his smile warm and inviting. But to me, he was nothing more than a predator, a man who had taken everything from my family and now sought to claim me as his final prize.
As we reached the altar, my father pressed a kiss to my cheek, and my mother gave my hand one last squeeze before stepping back. I was alone now, standing before Colson, who reached out to take my hand. His touch was firm, possessive, and I had to force myself not to recoil. The pastor smiled at us both, his voice deep and steady as he began the ceremony.
The words flowed over me, a blur of promises and platitudes that I couldn’t focus on. The pastor spoke of love, commitment, and the sanctity of marriage, but all I could hear was the ringing in my ears, the deafening echo of my own thoughts. I imagined the life I could have had if not for the Ashworths, the opportunities stolen from my family, the struggles we had endured because of their greed.
Colson squeezed my hand, a gentle reminder to focus, as the pastor turned to him for his vows. His voice was smooth, confident, filled with promises that made my stomach churn. He vowed to love, cherish, and honor me, his words like venom seeping into my soul. I stared at him, seeing not the handsome,charming man everyone else saw, but the architect of my family’s downfall.
When it was my turn to speak, my throat tightened. The vows I had rehearsed so many times suddenly felt foreign, like a betrayal of everything I had ever wanted. But with the eyes of hundreds of guests on me, I forced the words out, each one a lie that tasted bitter on my tongue. I vowed to love, to cherish, to honor him, knowing that in my heart, I could never truly mean it.
The pastor smiled, satisfied, and declared us husband and wife. Colson leaned in to kiss me, and I braced myself as his lips met mine. The crowd erupted in applause, the music swelled, and I forced a smile as we turned to face our guests, hand in hand.
But inside, I was hollow, consumed by the knowledge of what had been taken from me. This wasn’t a celebration—it was a funeral for the life I should have had. As we walked back down the aisle, past the smiling faces and shower of rose petals,
I knew that I was now Mrs. Josephine Ashworth, bound to a man and a family that had taken everything from me. And as I looked at Colson beside me, I made a silent vow of my own: I would find a way to make the Ashworths pay for what they had done, no matter the cost.
Colson’s grip on my hand was unyielding, his fingers wrapped around mine with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl. He kept my arm tucked tightly against his side as we moved through the crowd of guests, smiling and nodding like the perfect couple. Every step we took, every polite greeting I exchanged, felt likeanother layer of suffocation, trapping me in this web of lies and deceit that had become my life.
The laughter and chatter around us were a cruel contrast to the turmoil inside me. I wanted to scream, to rip my hand from Colson’s and run far away from this place, from these people who didn’t know the truth—who didn’t know that the Ashworths had destroyed my family, and now, they were destroying me.
“Josephine, you look stunning,” an elderly woman with a pearl necklace gushed, her eyes crinkling with warmth. I forced a smile, thanking her, though I had no idea who she was. The truth was, I didn’t know most of these people. They were just faces, part of Colson’s world, a world I was now forced to be part of.
Colson’s thumb stroked the back of my hand, a gesture that might have seemed tender to anyone watching, but to me, it was a reminder of his control, of the power he held over me.
I caught a glimpse of the stage where the band was setting up, the musicians tuning their instruments, preparing for the evening’s entertainment. A wild, irrational urge rose within me to climb up there and scream out the truth, to tell everyone what the Ashworths had done, to expose the lies that had led me to this moment.
But I couldn’t. I was trapped, a prisoner in a beautiful cage, and no matter how much I wanted to break free, I knew I couldn’t. Not yet.
“Are you all right, darling?” Colson’s voice was smooth, his smile as polished as ever, but there was a glint in his eyes that made my stomach twist. He was always watching, always measuring my reactions, ensuring I stayed in line.
“I’m fine,” I lied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. I couldn’t let him see how much I was unraveling, how the weight of everything I had learned was slowly crushing me.
He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as he led me to another group of guests. Their faces blurred together as they offered congratulations, their voices blending into a meaningless drone. I felt like I was floating, disconnected from everything around me, my mind trapped in the past—trapped in the memory of the file I had found in Colson’s office.
The file that told the story of how the Ashworths had systematically destroyed my grandfather, stripping him of his wealth, his dignity, everything he had worked for. My father’s life had been reduced to servitude because of it, and now, here I was, married to the son of the man who had caused it all.
I greeted another guest with a strained smile, my skin prickling with the need to escape. But there was no escape. But as I stood there, suffocating under the weight of it all, I made a silent vow. Colson and his family might think they had won, but they were wrong. They had taken everything from me, but I would find a way to take it back. I would make them pay for what they had done to my family, to me.
And when the time was right, I would rip their world apart, just as they had ripped apart mine.
An hour later, I couldn’t take it anymore. My face ached from the forced smile I’d been wearing, and my head throbbed from the endless chatter. The weight of the day, both literal andemotional, was pressing down on me, and I needed a break. I needed to breathe.
As Colson discussed interest rates with some associate, I seized the moment. I gently extricated myself from his grip, feeling his frown before I even looked at him.
“I need to use the restroom,” I murmured, hoping that would be enough.
