I'm Your Warden

005

Celia Prescott stared at the degrading garment laid out on the dressing room couch, her entire body trembling with a mixture of overwhelming shame and burning indignation. It was not a wedding dress. It was a flimsy, humiliating maid outfit, and resting horribly on top of the thin fabric was a thick leather dog collar attached to a heavy metal leash. Her fingernails dug into her palms as she glared at the man standing beside the door.

She gritted her teeth and spoke, her voice thick with suppressed fury, "Sebastian Whitaker, you are going too far."

She pointed a shaking finger at the collar, her chest heaving with every breath. "If I go out there and make a fool of myself, are you not just throwing away the dignity of the Whitaker family as well?"

A sharp, deafening crack echoed through the suffocating confines of the small dressing room.

Sebastian Whitaker had not hesitated for even a fraction of a second. He stepped forward and swung his hand, delivering a brutal, stinging slap directly across her face. The force of the blow threw her off balance, snapping her head to the side and leaving a burning red welt on her pale cheek.

He sneered down at her, his eyes entirely devoid of warmth. "I told you to wear it, so you will wear it. I do not want to hear another word of your useless garbage. I will admit that I used to have genuine feelings for you, Celia, but the only reason I am marrying you today is to satisfy an old, lingering obsession."

He took another step closer, his voice dropping into a venomous hiss. "I chased you like a madman back then, pouring my heart out, and what did I get in return? Nothing but your endless rejection and humiliation."

His gaze darkened with a twisted sense of triumph. "You used to act so high and mighty, completely untouchable. Your eyes were only ever set on that pathetic loser who went completely insane, the precious young master of the Crane family. It is a real shame for you, but you ended up in my hands anyway. I am marrying you today for one simple reason. I want every single person in Diverton to know that standing in front of me, the great Celia Prescott is only fit to be treated like an animal."

A sick, malicious smile slowly crept across his face as a new thought struck him. "Oh, actually, I have suddenly changed my mind. You are not just going to wear this outfit. When the ceremony begins and we walk out there, I am going to hold that leash tight. You are going to wear that collar around your neck, and you are going to crawl on your hands and knees behind me down the entire length of the red carpet."

Another loud smack rang out, but this time, it was not from him.

Driven entirely by pure, uncontrollable anger, Celia lunged forward and slapped him back with everything she had. Her eyes were blazing with a defiant fire as she screamed at him. "You are an absolute monster, Sebastian Whitaker. You are not even human. I would rather die right here and now than satisfy your sick, twisted desires."

Instead of flying into a rage, Sebastian simply reached up to touch his cheek, throwing his head back in a loud, maniacal fit of laughter. The sound was deeply unsettling, dripping with a terrifying, pathological amusement.

"Is that so?" he asked, his smile widening into something genuinely monstrous. "Alright then. Do whatever you want. You can refuse to wear the dress. You can even call off the wedding right this very second, and I promise you that I will not lift a single finger to stop you."

He leaned in close, his voice a quiet, deadly whisper. "But you must remember one thing. All it takes is a single word from the Whitaker family, and the Prescott family will be completely wiped off the face of the earth by tomorrow morning. You can decide what to do next."

The desperate, fighting spirit drained out of Celia in an instant. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating.

It felt as though she had been struck by a massive, invisible hammer. Her heart turned to absolute ash in her chest. Sebastian was using the very survival of her entire family as a bargaining chip, ruthlessly forcing her into this marriage. Now, he was pushing her into an abyss of ultimate degradation, demanding she host her own wedding in the most humiliating way conceivable. She felt a hatred for this man so profound it made her physically sick.

Yet, there was absolutely nothing she could do to change her reality.

Years ago, the Whitaker family and the Prescott family had been on equal footing, both respectable but ordinary second-tier families within the sprawling city of Diverton. Everything shifted after the Crane family was violently wiped out. The Whitakers had swooped in like vultures, swallowing up massive portions of the fallen family's vast assets. In just a few short years, they had skyrocketed to the absolute pinnacle of the city's elite circle.

If Sebastian said he could destroy her family with a single sentence, it was not an empty threat. He possessed the absolute power to do exactly that. If she chose to fight back and preserve her own dignity, the price would be the total ruination of her loved ones. Her parents and relatives would be thrown out into the streets, left destitute and broken. She would become the greatest sinner in the history of her lineage, and that was a burden she simply could not bear.

"Well? Have you thought it through?" Sebastian asked, watching the devastating shift in her expression with immense satisfaction.

Her eyes lost their fiery light, turning dull and completely lifeless. She spoke with a frightening, hollow calmness. "Fine. I will do whatever you say. Please leave the room so I can change."

"We are about to be husband and wife, so there is really no need to be so modest," he mocked, letting his greedy gaze sweep over her trembling form one last time. Knowing he had already won the ultimate victory, he decided not to push his luck right this second, turning around and strolling casually out of the dressing room.

Time crawled forward unmercifully. Inside the grand banquet hall of the luxury hotel, brilliant crystal chandeliers cast a dazzling, golden light over the sea of wealthy guests. The romantic instrumental music swelled, signaling the beginning of the highly anticipated ceremony.

When the massive double doors finally opened and the couple stepped into the line of sight of the hundreds of attendees, a massive wave of collective shock washed over the entire room.

Gasps and chaotic murmurs erupted from every single table.

"Oh my god, are my eyes deceiving me right now? Is that really the bride? Why on earth is she wearing something so scandalous?"

"Is this the same brilliant and beautiful woman we all know? She is getting married, but she is dressed exactly like a cheap servant."

"You people really do not know the history here, do you? Years ago, Mr. Whitaker was completely obsessed with her, but she refused to give him the time of day. Now that his family has all the power in the city, he is only marrying her to put her through absolute hell."

"Look closer. I heard a rumor that she is not even going to walk down the aisle. Look at her neck. He actually put a dog chain on her."

The whispers rapidly escalated into loud, unrestrained discussions. The initial wave of sheer shock quickly morphed into open, merciless mockery. The wealthy elites of the city swirled their expensive wine, their eyes gleaming with malicious delight as they tore down the woman who had once stood above them all.

"So much for the untouchable goddess of beauty and intellect. When faced with real money and power, she is absolutely no different from a stray dog."

"Exactly. She always acted so pure and arrogant. I really cannot wait for the ceremony to actually start so I can watch her crawl on the floor like an animal."

"You guys are terrible, but honestly, I am looking forward to seeing it too."

Every single one of these piercing, venomous comments drifted clearly into the ears of the bride. Yet, she kept her head lowered, her face entirely devoid of emotion. She moved like a hollow, mechanical shell, a lifeless puppet entirely at the mercy of her cruel puppeteer. The heavy metal collar chafed painfully against her delicate skin, a physical reminder of her broken spirit.

"Celia, we are at the edge of the red carpet," Sebastian whispered softly into her ear, a sick smile playing on his lips. "You can get down on your knees now."

Even though she had spent the last hour desperately brainwashing herself in the dressing room, telling herself over and over that this was necessary, the actual moment of truth threw her into a violent internal struggle. Simply wearing this horrific, revealing outfit was already pushing her sanity to its absolute breaking point. If she actually dropped to the floor and crawled like a beast, she would be permanently throwing away the very last shred of her human dignity. She would have no bottom line left. In the eyes of everyone in this room, she would truly become nothing more than a pet.

But if she refused, her parents, her relatives, and everyone she had ever loved would suffer an unimaginable fate. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the blinding lights and the cruel laughter. She had to do this. She had to treat this ultimate sacrifice as repayment for the parents who had raised her.

With that final, agonizing thought, her straight, trembling knees finally began to give way.

Inch by agonizing inch, she began to sink toward the plush red carpet beneath her feet.

Sebastian watched her descent with fiery, feverish eyes. The dark, pathological thrill radiating from his entire body was deeply terrifying.

Kneel.

Just kneel on the ground.

The very second her knees touched the floor, he would have successfully shattered this arrogant woman's spirit forever. The brilliant, proud daughter of heaven who had once rejected him would now only ever know how to bow her head and submit, permanently reduced to a pathetic toy in the palm of his hand.

Boom!

Right at that exact, perilous second, an earth-shattering explosion of sound violently ruptured the atmosphere of the banquet hall. The massive oak doors at the entrance did not just open; they were violently blasted apart, sending heavy splinters of wood flying across the polished marble floor. A terrifying gale of wind swept aggressively through the room, toppling tall floral arrangements and shattering delicate champagne towers in a spectacular cascade of glass and foam.

A lone silhouette materialized from the settling dust, dropping into the center of the chaos like a furious deity descending from the heavens. The impact of his landing seemed to shake the very foundations of the building. His booming voice echoed off the high vaulted ceilings, cutting through the panicked screams of the guests and sending a massive shockwave of disbelief through the entire crowd. Every single pair of eyes in the hall snapped toward the entrance in absolute terror.

"Nick!"

Celia jerked upright, her delicate frame trembling so violently she nearly collapsed. Her heart leaped into her throat, and her first instinct was to run wildly into his arms. But the cruel, crushing reality of her situation slammed into her mind, violently stopping her in her tracks. She could not afford to drag him into this mess. She absolutely refused to let him suffer because of her.

She forced a cold, harsh tone into her voice, though tears were already welling in her eyes. "Nick, what are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to break down. "Did I not make myself completely clear to you before? There is absolutely nothing left between us anymore. We are finished. I am already Sebastian Whitaker's wife."

"What a ridiculous joke. You and I forged a marriage contract, and I have never once agreed to break it. It does not matter what anyone else in this world says," Nick declared, his voice rumbling with an unstoppable, domineering power.

He instantly saw straight through her desperate lies, fully understanding the immense fear and the heavy burden she was trying to carry all on her own. Completely ignoring the hundreds of shocked guests and the furious groom standing just feet away, he strode forward and aggressively pulled her into his broad, protective chest.

"Even if you die, you will always be my woman."

The absolute certainty and fiery protection in his voice shattered the fragile walls around her heart. In that single moment, Celia could no longer hold back the crushing weight of her despair. She buried her face into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt as she sobbed uncontrollably. "You are so stupid, Nick. Why? Why would you do something so incredibly foolish?"

"You are the stupid one here," Nick replied softly, his rough voice suddenly carrying a deep, tender affection that was meant only for her. "Did you really think that breaking off our engagement would magically protect me? If I cannot even protect my own woman, what right do I have to stand here as a man?"

The stunned silence of the banquet hall finally broke, replaced by an explosive wave of terrified murmurs.

"What the hell is going on here? Who is this maniac, and how does he have the guts to crash a wedding like this?"

"Wait, did she just call him Nick? As in Nick Crane? Is he the crazy young master from the family that was completely slaughtered five years ago? The one they locked up in the psych ward? I thought he died ages ago."

"My god, it really is him. How is he still alive?"

Absolute shock and profound horror flooded the glittering venue. The high-society elites scrambled backward, terrified by the overwhelming, murderous aura radiating from the man they had long presumed dead.

The smug, victorious smile on Sebastian's face had completely vanished, replaced first by utter fury, and then by stark, genuine astonishment. He stared at the intruder, his jaw tight. "Nick, you are actually still alive?"

"You are absolutely right. The young master of the Crane family is not dead. I have returned from hell, and I am here to settle every single bloody debt with you pathetic, insignificant rats," Nick proclaimed, his voice ringing out with the lethal finality of a falling guillotine. He turned his piercing, merciless gaze directly onto the trembling groom. "Sebastian Whitaker, it seems you have completely forgotten the days when you used to shamelessly beg on your hands and knees just for the privilege of being my loyal lapdog. Now, you actually have the nerve to lay your filthy hands on the woman who should have been your master's wife. I swear to you right here and now, you will not leave this room alive."