Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 115: What’s happening?

~At the Hotel Room~

By the time Vera stirred on the bed, it was already ten o’clock. The morning sun stood high in the sky, casting bright rays through the curtains. She felt weak and drained, having been too exhausted last night that she couldn’t even have her dinner

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her gaze scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Her thoughts spun as she struggled to piece together the events of the previous night.

A dull throb pulsed in her head, and she instinctively raised a hand to rub her temple. Then, a blurry image flashed through her mind, striking a chord. Her body tensed as she sat up abruptly, her eyes darting around the room in growing panic.

"Hotel room," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

A moment later, her breath hitched, her chest tightening as her heart pounded wildly. Memories of the previous night crashed over her in an overwhelming wave, flooding her mind in vivid detail of its event.

Her eyes darted around the room once more, slowly taking in every detail—the exquisite, untouched meal from last night, a glass of water resting on the bedside table, the drawn blinds shielding the room from excessive sunlight, the lavish furnishings, and a couch positioned near the window. The bathroom door stood glaringly opposite the bed, and at the side of the bed, a neatly packed bag sat—it had just been purchased.

The sight of the bag triggered a memory. My clothes... she mumbled under her breath. But then she recalled, in the heat of the moment, it had been torn into shreds.

Her gaze dropped to the duvet covering her body, her fingers curling into the fabric. Beneath it, she wore a man’s shirt—its scent unmistakably familiar. A wave of hesitation washed over her; she dared not lift the duvet, afraid of what she might discover.

Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath. Too many thoughts swirled in her head, colliding chaotically. With trembling fingers, she picked up her phone from the bedside table. The screen lit up, and her eyes widened in shock—twenty missed calls.

She quickly scrolled through the list, surprise flashing across her face. For the first time, Aaron had called her ten times. The remaining missed calls were from her father, mother, and a few friends.

"A shiver ran down her spine. I hope I haven’t been declared missing overnight," she muttered, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips.

Her eyes swept across the room again, searching for any sign of him. But he was nowhere in sight.

lightly. Yet, strangely, she didn’t feel anxious rather a deep-seated assurance settled within her—the kind that whispered, Even if the sky were falling,

a bath—a warm, soothing, sensual

the bed, a small piece of paper fluttered onto the floor.

not be angry with

"I thought you were so bold last night? Why are you running now?" she mused, amusement dancing

she strolled toward the bathroom.

the perfect temperature, delicate rose petals sprinkled

of a fairy tale, a life fit for a princess, a life

her. For the first time in a long while, she felt relieved. she wasn’t bothered about last night,

Merit—her closest friend, the one who was more like

her knees, exposing her long, straight legs. With a slow measured fumbling, she slowly unbuttoned the shirt, the fabric slipping open to reveal glimpses

There, scattered

fingers lightly over the marks, as if to confirm they were real. How am I going to hide these? she

forced the thoughts aside. She needed a bath first—then she

into the waiting bathtub. The warm water wrapped

into the tub as the gentle ripples massaged her tense muscles and frayed nerves,

towel wrapped snugly around her chest.

Trevor asked. His deep, magnetic voice

of the voice, and there he was—Trevor, seated comfortably on the

sight of her, he rose slowly, step by step, his

long time since she had felt this way... The last time was

it away. The