"Is that seriously the only dress you could find?" Jackob asked coldly, his footsteps heavy as he approached. Skye turned toward him, only to be met with a sharp, disapproving glare from her father.
The dress that Skye was currently wearing was Lily's. The dress looked oversized on Skye's thin body. She borrowed the dress because her father had asked her to wear a dress. Skye didn't have a dress because her clothes were just a t-shirt, hoodie, and pants.
Jackob tossed a paper bag at her feet without sparing her a glance. "Put this on. Then come back. I'll be in the church—giving you the money like a beggar's mercy," he said, his tone cold enough to burn. Skye flinched at his words, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached down to pick up the bag. For a moment, her eyes lingered on the church doors in the distance—hesitating, humiliated. But pride had no value when loan sharks were at your heels and the bank threatened to take everything. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and walked away, holding the bag tightly like it was her last chance to breathe.
Skye was about to go to the toilet, but her father ordered her to get into the car he showed her. Without the slightest suspicion of her father, Skye did what her father wanted.
Skye got into the car, and just as she was about to change her clothes, suddenly some people came in, making Skye surprised. Skye frowned, the woman to her right she remembered very well if she was Sean's girlfriend, and the woman to her left was the woman who had bothered her on campus.
"Hurry up and change your dress!" ordered the woman from the campus.
"What do you want?" asked Skye, who looked confused by the current situation.
"What's the matter, can't hear me? Oh wait—maybe getting smacked around by debt collectors messed with your hearing?" She gave a fake pout, followed by a cruel little laugh.
"I asked why you're here. I was about to change, but then you just barged in," Skye said, glaring at the girl who hadn't stopped talking since she arrived.
"You're so noisy. Just change already!" the woman said with a sneer before shoving Skye and roughly pulling at her dress.
Skye struggled, gripping the fabric tightly, but it was no use. Her thin arms were easily overpowered by the two stronger women. Every tug felt like her dignity being ripped away, thread by thread. No one would help. No one would stop them. And in that car, Skye realized what it felt like to be completely powerless.
Issabel rounded her eyes when Skye's clothes were torn. She could see that Skye's body was very thin, not to mention some parts were turning blue. She looked at her sister, who continued to force Skye to take off her dress. There was a feeling of pity that Issabel felt right now for Skye. But she also didn't want the boutique to be destroyed. The boutique was her dream, so she had to prioritize the boutique over her pity for Skye.
Skye had already changed her clothes, she was also in makeup. Skye got out of the car and lowered her head to look at her clothes. A white dress that looked like a wedding gown. "Tsk! Let's go!" said the woman to her college friend. Skye didn't know the woman's name because she didn't have many friends. Even if she got a group assignment, she would do it alone because no one wanted to be in a group with her.
Her father was already waiting in front of the church.
"What exactly are you doing?" Skye asked, her voice barely steady. Her eyes flicked to the men in black suits—tall, broad, unmoving. Their faces were stone, eyes empty of emotion.
A chill ran down her spine. She took a cautious step back but instantly felt the weight of their stares press harder against her. They weren't just standing guard. They were here for her. She knew it. There was no escape. Not this time.
"Dad?" she tried again, her voice cracking.
Nothing.
Not a word.
Just silence.
The kind that made her feel like she was already being buried alive. Her heart pounded, not from confusion—but from the cold certainty that whatever was about to happen… had been planned all along.
The church door opened, and Skye rounded her eyes because she saw inside the church not people praying in the church, but in front of her stood a man in a black suit with his back to her.
"You want the money, don't you? Then do exactly as I say," Jackob said coldly. He grabbed Skye's hand and wrapped it tightly around his arm, as if she were some accessory he could display.
Skye stiffened. Her fingers curled slightly, not out of affection—but resistance. Every instinct in her screamed to pull away.
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
She needed the money.
So she bit down the rising anger in her chest, ignored the shame burning on her skin, and walked beside him—like a puppet with strings she couldn't cut.
Jackob began to walk, and Skye had no choice but to follow. Her legs felt numb, her chest tight. Every step echoed like thunder in her ears, even as the church remained unnervingly silent.
The decorations were beautiful—white roses, soft candlelight, white accents on every pew. But to her, it all felt like a mockery. A beautiful cage for a sacrifice.
Then, one of the suited men turned. Sean - there he was. Standing at the altar like a king waiting for his prize.But as their eyes met, something flickered in his gaze—just for a second.
Not sympathy. Not cruelty.
Something in between.
Something Skye couldn't name.
Was it amusement?
A test?
A warning?
His lips didn't move, but his stare spoke volumes. It made her feel exposed, as if he could see everything she was trying to hide.
And yet… he gave her nothing to hold on to. No clue. No sign of mercy.Just that unreadable look—
The kind that made her feel like a pawn walking straight into a trap she didn't even understand.
She tightened her grip on her father's arm, not out of trust, but to steady herself.
"Why does it have to be like this?"
"What did Daddy do that's, that I have to marry this arrogant, heartless man?"
Her heart sank. And still—she kept walking.