Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ novel Chapter 62

Recovery I woke up in a hospital bed. It must have been early morning since the sun was slowly rising in orange-red. I could see its beautiful colors getting inside through the window. When I turned my head away from the glow, I noticed that I had an I drip attached to my arm, and then I saw one more thing… the shreds of my dirtied wedding gown, hanging by the closet behind the metal drip stand. The sight of it squeezed my chest painfully. I spent days dreaming about the moment Aren would see me wearing that amazing gown, and now, it just hung there devastated.

“They will pay for what they did.” Only then did I see Miranda sitting by the foot of my bed. Her eyes were swollen and red from tears, her jaw clenched. “Miranda…” I muttered, giving her a faint smile. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, swallowing tears. “We shouldn’t have left you alone…” “You couldn’t have known. It’s not your or Monique’s fault. You were helping me with the wedding…” I paused as my eyes unknowingly drifted to my wedding gown. “This would have been a wonderful ceremony, wouldn’t it?” I smiled bitterly. I should probably be grateful for being alive and not care about material things, and yet I couldn’t help but be seriously pissed that everything I had worked hard to plan had been taken away from me. “We will arrange a better one, you’ll see. As soon as you recover…” Her voice cracked as she tried to restrain her tears. “Don’t cry,” I said with a little chuckle. “It was scary, I won’t lie, but I was lucky enough to survive, and that’s all that matters.”

I tried to make my words sound confident, but I still shivered as I recalled what had happened and how I had felt, imprisoned. Miranda brushed the tears off her cheeks and cleared her throat before turning on her doctor mode. “I will take you off the drip now. You had enough,” she said, stepping closer to take out gauze and antiseptics from the cabinet by my bed, “Those fuckers hit your head hard. Luckily, it caused only a mild concussion, but the wound itself needed stitches…” “Stitches?” I mumbled fearfully as my hand went to the back of my head. As I touched the thick dressing, I froze. I had clearly been high on adrenaline while trying to escape from the warehouse, enough not to realize that I had been bleeding from a wound on my head. “We needed to shave a small area of your hair to dress the wound properly. It couldn’t be avoided… But the hair will grow back once we remove the stitches.” Miranda gave me a wry smile.

Now I wanted to cry… and kill those bastards! My long hair was one of the features I was proud of, and I was going to have a bald spot in the middle?! Suddenly, the destroyed wedding and the wedding gown lost their importance.

“H-how big is it?” I asked and held my breath.

“Less than two inches needed shaving. Don’t worry too much. It’s a straight line spot, so it will be easy to cover with other hair until it grows back,” she assured.

I heaved a sigh of relief. My concern might have been shallow, but I had only started to regain my self-esteem recently and was still hypersensitive about every issue. Even if it was dumb of me, I just didn’t want Aren to stop calling me beautiful…

“The cut on your face wasn’t deep. I put an ointment on it so there won’t be any scars,” Miranda continued. “Aside from that, there are some bruises and a few abrasions on your cheek, wrists, and waistline. Those will heal in a few days.

I nodded, stretching my lips into a dry grimace. I was highly aware that there was more to healing than just my physicality. “Where is Aren?” I asked, desperate to feel his arms around me again. “He had to handle some matters with the FBI an hour ago, but he was sitting by your bed the entire time.” Miranda grinned teasingly at that last part, but I was more concerned with what she said before that.

“FBI?” I muttered, raising my eyebrows. I was almost certain that none of those people who had rescued me had an FBI emblem.

“As far as I know, the official version would be that you were attacked by a criminal group who kidnapped you for ransom, and the FBI agents retreated you from the hands of the criminals,” she explained.

“Official version…” My lips twisted into a lopsided smile.

Miranda sighed. “Yes…. Aren is handing over those fuckers to the bureau to handle, so they need to come up with a believable story. Besides, that will be suitable for the press as well…”

“The press?” My eyes widened in surprise. “What does the press have to do with it?”

I instantly remembered the way Aren and his team handled the whole not-engagement party with Liam’s ex, Nicole. There was no trace that the event had ever been planned then, but now they needed to give the press a reliable story?

Miranda laughed nervously. “Things got slightly out of hand after you were kidnapped.”