Betrothed to my Parent's Rival

Betrothed to my Parent's Rival

InexorableSerene · Ongoing · 46.3k Words

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Introduction

Ophelia Rodrigo, the daughter of the city's most successful business tycoon, was just 16 years old when her world shattered. A band of ruthless thieves stormed their mansion, leaving behind a trail of violence and the chilling memory of her parents' senseless deaths.

On that day, she thought her life was over but then, a man appeared – her parents' sworn enemy, the man who'd vowed to bring their empire crashing down. He was the last person she expected to see, the last person she'd ever thought would save her.

Chapter 1

The huge gate of the mansion towered over me, but I didn't even notice how fancy it was. I was too scared.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I couldn't catch my breath.

I was struggling with my sandals, trying to get them off, but my fingers were shaking.

"Run, Ophelia, run!" a man's voice hissed, like a snake. Then, a gunshot roared, so loud it made my ears ring.

The bullet hit me in the side, and it felt like fire. I stumbled, my legs wobbly, and I almost fell.

I was about to turn around, but before I could, a hand grabbed my hair from behind.

His breath, hot and foul, washed over me as he leaned in close. His eyes, blazing with anger, locked onto mine. The gun’s muzzle pressed against my forehead.

"Do you want to join your mom and dad?" he snarled.

My legs went numb, the memory of this monster shooting my parents flashing before my eyes.

I squeezed my eyes shut, not from the pain, but because tears were already welling up.

I looked down at myself. My school uniform, once crisp and clean, was now stained crimson with blood.

I screamed as the man dragged me down, my body crashing onto the ground. The bullet wound in my side burned like fire.

He lunged, pinning me to the ground. He ripped off his mask, revealing a face that sent chills down my spine.

His grin was cruel, almost predatory. He shoved the gun against my chest, jamming it between my buttons. The cold metal pressed against my skin, making me flinch.

"I don't want to hurt you..." he said, his voice a strange mix of seriousness and menace. He stared at me, his eyes burning with intensity. Then, he burst into a wild, almost manic laughter. "Why did you even come home? You should've been at school, playing with your classmates." He pressed the gun harder against my chest, the cold metal digging into my skin.

I clenched my jaw, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. My voice, tight with barely suppressed emotion, "Why did you kill my mom and dad? What did they ever do to you?!" I screamed, the question bursting from my lips.

My parents were good people. They were loved by everyone. Even the stray animals and homeless people found a home with them, a comfortable life.

He roared, snatching the gun from where it was pressed against my chest.

He slammed the metal barrel into my face, the impact sending a shock-wave through my head. Blood filled my mouth, a coppery taste that made me gag.

I coughed, a violent, bloody spray erupting from my lips.

"Shut your mouth, you bitch!" he snarled, pressing the gun against my forehead. He tried to pull the trigger. "Be grateful you're still breathing," he sneered, his weight crushing me even harder.

His body felt like a mountain on top of me, threatening to crush my ribs.

I couldn't speak, my mind racing with terror. "Your parents deserved to die, but you don't," he snarled, his voice a thunderous growl. "Don't give me a reason to kill you right now!" His breath, hot and rancid, washed over my face.

The storm seemed to mirror the turmoil raging within me.

The rain poured down, a torrent matching the tears that finally spilled from my eyes. The dam of my emotions had broken.

I stared at the door I had just come through.

Four men, masked and armed, emerged, dragging my parents' lifeless bodies out of the house. Their movements were cold and efficient, devoid of any human compassion.

My tears doubled as my mother's head slammed against the floor, a sickening thud that sent a fresh wave of horror through me. Blood seeped from her lifeless body.

"Demons!" I whispered in anguish.

"Take the girl if you don't want to kill her. We need to get out of here. This place is far from the city but any minute, someone could hear what's happening in this mansion," one of them muttered.

He was right.

They'd been able to kill my parents with impunity because we were miles away from the crowd.

Every maid, every driver, everyone who had been in the mansion, all of them are dead.

These monsters left no witnesses to their crime.

I shoved the man off me, a surge of primal rage fueling my actions. I didn't even feel the pain in my body as I stumbled towards my parents' lifeless bodies. I cradled my mother and father, holding them close.

Their skin was pale, cold to the touch.

They were gone.

A hand clamped around my arm, yanking me up. I screamed as I was pulled away from my parents. A fist slammed into my stomach, sending me to the ground.

"You stubborn bitch," he snarled, pulling out his gun and pointing it at me. "I should have ki--" A deafening gunshot echoed, the sound aimed directly at me.

The man who was about to shoot me crumpled to the ground, a crimson stain blooming on his chest.

I looked towards the source of the gunshot. It was the man who had been pinning me down earlier, his face contorted with rage.

He started firing at the three remaining men, each shot a brutal symphony of destruction. Like my parents, they lay lifeless on the floor, their bodies twisted and still.

My body trembled, my breath caught in my throat. How could he be so cold-blooded, killing his own men without a second thought?

He roughly pulled me to my feet, dragging me out of the yard. The rain was relentless, soaking me to the bone. He dragged me towards a black car.

He yanked his hand away from me, shoving the gun against my temple. "Don't even think about doing anything stupid," he snarled, his eyes burning into mine before he whipped his head towards the car door.

He frantically searched his pockets, muttering curses under his breath.

"Shit!" he hissed, dragging me back into our yard. He must have left the car keys somewhere.

My gaze dropped to my six-inch heels. Without hesitation, I slammed my foot into the man's gut, my heel connecting with a sickening thud.

He stumbled back, his grip on me loosening.

I poured every ounce of energy I had into sprinting out of the yard, my heart hammering in my chest. I hit the pavement, nearly tripping on the uneven sidewalk, but managed to regain my balance.

I kept running, but the sound of a gunshot echoing behind me, forced me to stop.

"I told you to be a good girl, didn't I?!" he roared, his voice laced with fury as he lunged towards me.

My body trembled, but I forced myself to run, my legs pumping as fast as they could.

He fired shot after shot, the deafening echoes bouncing off my ears but I ignored them, my focus solely on escaping.

A car appeared in the distance. I suddenly felt a beacon of hope.

I waved my arms frantically, desperate to catch the driver's attention. But I had forgotten about the man behind me, his heavy footsteps pounding closer, his presence a chilling reminder of the danger I was in.

He yanked my hair, his grip like a vise, and slammed my face into the pavement. A searing pain erupted across my cheek, the taste of blood mingling with the bitter rain that lashed down on us.

"You left me no choice but to let you meet your parents," he snarled, slamming my face into the wet pavement.

He pressed the barrel of the gun against the back of my head, his grip cold and unforgiving. A bitter smile stretched across my lips.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the end. This time, I knew, my life was truly over.

My life, a tapestry woven with kindness and compassion, would end at the hands of someone I and my parents had tried to be good to.

The gunshot echoed and a body crumpled beside me, the impact sending a jolt of shock through my system.

I forced my eyes open, my vision blurry, the world spinning around me.

My body trembled uncontrollably as the rain poured down.

My gaze remained fixed on the lifeless figure beside me, a chilling tableau of death.

Even as I cradled my own bleeding face, my hand slick with blood, I managed to turn my head towards the source of the gunshot.

A man, clad in a white polo long-sleeved shirt, stood there, a gun still smoking in his hand, pointed directly at me.

He seemed to have just emerged from a crimson-colored car, soaked to the bone from the downpour.

He sprinted towards me, his movements swift and determined. Before I could lose consciousness, I caught a glimpse of his face, impossibly gentle and handsome, yet somehow familiar.

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