Married To Everett Anderson

Sophie POV

I looked at myself in the mirror. Should I cry? Should I laugh, or should I swallow myself in self-pity? I don't know what to do; I am numb, and my heart is heavy, but I can't bring myself to cry out as I wanted. I can bring myself to feel the emotions I badly want to feel. Every woman has dreamed of her wedding at least once in her life-the happiest day of her life-walking down the aisle, staring at the man of her dreams wearing a beautiful tux while smiling at her lovingly.

I have imagined it once because that is what I deserved after living a life with no one to love me. I never imagined I would be standing in front of a mirror, clad in a beautiful white wedding gown adorned with beautiful pearls, my hair packed neatly and beautifully, and my makeup done to perfection. Of course, I look beautiful, but I don't feel beautiful; I feel empty because I am getting married to a man who is known as the devil, a man who doesn't care about anyone but himself and his daughter, a man who doesn't give a shit about my existence.

"Sophie," the deep voice called, cutting me out of my thoughts. I looked at my father in the mirror-the man who is to blame for everything that has gone wrong in my life-the man who is selling out his only daughter to the devil without a care in the world. Perhaps I have offended someone before in my past life to be punished like this.

"You look beautiful," he said, looking at me blankly. My lips curled up in a frown. Of course, I look beautiful; I am the female version of him, his perfect masterpiece.

"We are running late," I said, looking away from him. I didn't want to talk to him; I didn't want to be in the same space with him; he should be ashamed to be called a father.

"Sophie," he called, looking at me like he had a lot of things to say, a lot of things I didn't want to hear.

"We are running late; you won't want to be in Mr. Anderson's nasty book. I am afraid I don't have anything to give after this marriage," I snapped, carrying my gown up and walking out of the room. I hurt his feelings with my words, but then again, does he have feelings? My feelings are probably more hurt than he would ever be. I opened the door, and, of course, bodyguards were outside, waiting for me to be escorted to my doom. I breathed out, walking down the hallway. The bodyguards swarm around me, and my father walks beside me while the ladies hold my gown. You'd think I was a princess getting married to a prince; it was almost hilarious.

We got to the front of the hotel, and of course, the media were everywhere with their huge camera lenses, trying to get the latest gist. This wedding is obviously not private. Mr. King wants the entire world to know his son is getting married again; his son is off the market for the second time, and this time I might be the lucky bride that gets killed mysteriously.

"Mr Lee!"

"How do you feel about getting your daughter married to Everett Anderson?"

"Is this a love wedding or a contract wedding?"

"How do you feel, Miss Lee?" I tuned them out. They were asking so many questions, flying around us like flies. The bodyguard pushed them off, creating space for me to walk to the expensive-looking limo.

"Fuck my life," I whispered, getting into the limo. The Andersons are definitely rich; money is never an issue for them, but their lifestyle is too extreme for me, who only cares about simple things.

"These paparazzi are crazy," father said. I ignored him, looking out the tainted window, and the limo drove out of the hotel, heading to my doom. The ride was awkward; no words were shared, and I preferred the silence, not like anybody had anything to say. I closed my eyes, deciding to sleep off my worries.

"Sophie," the voice called, and my eyes fluttered open.

"We are here," dad said, and I sat up and, of course, more paparazzi. It wasn't a dream; this is real. The limo door opened, and I was helped down from the limo. The camera flashes in my eyes as the bodyguards swarm around us again. We entered the building. I can't believe Mr. Anderson bought the most expensive hall in the city, all for a fake wedding. We walked to the side of the building where a church is. Well, I guess that's why people love this hall. It is expensive and has a church, wedding reception, and hall together, so it is a total package. We got to the front of the church, and the girls clipped the veil on my head, covering my face, and gave me my flower bouquet. I sighed as only dad and I left the hallway. We didn't exchange words, and we just waited for the doors to open.

The famous bride's song played, and my father and I walked in, walking down the aisle. I looked forward, ignoring how full the church is, and the funniest part is that they are all strangers; I know not even a single one of them. I looked at my husband, and my heart skipped a beat.

Why are devils always so handsome? He looked at me, a frown sitting on his heart-shaped lips. His eyes were a piercing blue; they looked at me blankly; his aura was cold; his posture was cold; he was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode. He made me nervous.

I got to the front of the church, where my father handed me over to the devil and he didn't look at me twice; he faced the priest while I held my gown, climbing the steps. I breathe out, biting my lips as the priest starts. We didn't share any vows, and when it was time to say I do, he said nothing; he was mute all through the process while I tried my best to stand straight and not fall. My eyes watered. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to destroy every one of these crazy designs, but I couldn't.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said, and my heart was bleeding out. My heart was crushed. This was it. I was married to him.

"You may now kiss your bride," he said, smiling. I looked at him in disbelief. Obviously, this was not a joyous reunion; can't he see how forced everything was? Everett turned, and he walked out. The guest murmured while I stood in front of the priest, tears falling down my face as I clenched my gown. And all I could think was, how did I ever get here? Save & Update

Sophie POV

I looked at myself in the mirror. Should I cry? Should I laugh, or should I swallow myself in self-pity? I don't know what to do; I am numb, and my heart is heavy, but I can't bring myself to cry out as I wanted. I can bring myself to feel the emotions I badly want to feel. Every woman has dreamed of her wedding at least once in her life-the happiest day of her life-walking down the aisle, staring at the man of her dreams wearing a beautiful tux while smiling at her lovingly.

I have imagined it once because that is what I deserved after living a life with no one to love me. I never imagined I would be standing in front of a mirror, clad in a beautiful white wedding gown adorned with beautiful pearls, my hair packed neatly and beautifully, and my makeup done to perfection. Of course, I look beautiful, but I don't feel beautiful; I feel empty because I am getting married to a man who is known as the devil, a man who doesn't care about anyone but himself and his daughter, a man who doesn't give a shit about my existence.

"Sophie," the deep voice called, cutting me out of my thoughts. I looked at my father in the mirror-the man who is to blame for everything that has gone wrong in my life-the man who is selling out his only daughter to the devil without a care in the world. Perhaps I have offended someone before in my past life to be punished like this.

"You look beautiful," he said, looking at me blankly. My lips curled up in a frown. Of course, I look beautiful; I am the female version of him, his perfect masterpiece.

"We are running late," I said, looking away from him. I didn't want to talk to him; I didn't want to be in the same space with him; he should be ashamed to be called a father.

"Sophie," he called, looking at me like he had a lot of things to say, a lot of things I didn't want to hear.

"We are running late; you won't want to be in Mr. Anderson's nasty book. I am afraid I don't have anything to give after this marriage," I snapped, carrying my gown up and walking out of the room. I hurt his feelings with my words, but then again, does he have feelings? My feelings are probably more hurt than he would ever be. I opened the door, and, of course, bodyguards were outside, waiting for me to be escorted to my doom. I breathed out, walking down the hallway. The bodyguards swarm around me, and my father walks beside me while the ladies hold my gown. You'd think I was a princess getting married to a prince; it was almost hilarious.

We got to the front of the hotel, and of course, the media were everywhere with their huge camera lenses, trying to get the latest gist. This wedding is obviously not private. Mr. King wants the entire world to know his son is getting married again; his son is off the market for the second time, and this time I might be the lucky bride that gets killed mysteriously.

"Mr Lee!"

"How do you feel about getting your daughter married to Everett Anderson?"

"Is this a love wedding or a contract wedding?"

"How do you feel, Miss Lee?" I tuned them out. They were asking so many questions, flying around us like flies. The bodyguard pushed them off, creating space for me to walk to the expensive-looking limo.

"Fuck my life," I whispered, getting into the limo. The Andersons are definitely rich; money is never an issue for them, but their lifestyle is too extreme for me, who only cares about simple things.

"These paparazzi are crazy," father said. I ignored him, looking out the tainted window, and the limo drove out of the hotel, heading to my doom. The ride was awkward; no words were shared, and I preferred the silence, not like anybody had anything to say. I closed my eyes, deciding to sleep off my worries.

"Sophie," the voice called, and my eyes fluttered open.

"We are here," dad said, and I sat up and, of course, more paparazzi. It wasn't a dream; this is real. The limo door opened, and I was helped down from the limo. The camera flashes in my eyes as the bodyguards swarm around us again. We entered the building. I can't believe Mr. Anderson bought the most expensive hall in the city, all for a fake wedding. We walked to the side of the building where a church is. Well, I guess that's why people love this hall. It is expensive and has a church, wedding reception, and hall together, so it is a total package. We got to the front of the church, and the girls clipped the veil on my head, covering my face, and gave me my flower bouquet. I sighed as only dad and I left the hallway. We didn't exchange words, and we just waited for the doors to open.

The famous bride's song played, and my father and I walked in, walking down the aisle. I looked forward, ignoring how full the church is, and the funniest part is that they are all strangers; I know not even a single one of them. I looked at my husband, and my heart skipped a beat.

Why are devils always so handsome? He looked at me, a frown sitting on his heart-shaped lips. His eyes were a piercing blue; they looked at me blankly; his aura was cold; his posture was cold; he was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode. He made me nervous.

I got to the front of the church, where my father handed me over to the devil and he didn't look at me twice; he faced the priest while I held my gown, climbing the steps. I breathe out, biting my lips as the priest starts. We didn't share any vows, and when it was time to say I do, he said nothing; he was mute all through the process while I tried my best to stand straight and not fall. My eyes watered. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to destroy every one of these crazy designs, but I couldn't.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said, and my heart was bleeding out. My heart was crushed. This was it. I was married to him.

"You may now kiss your bride," he said, smiling. I looked at him in disbelief. Obviously, this was not a joyous reunion; can't he see how forced everything was? Everett turned, and he walked out. The guest murmured while I stood in front of the priest, tears falling down my face as I clenched my gown. And all I could think was, how did I ever get here?