Chapter 4 Escaping Her Marriage

• In the ranch, Carol followed the faint strumming of a guitar, her boots crunching against the dry earth as she approached the stable.
• “So, you found your way back.” Her voice cut through the stillness as she caught sight of Alora with a guitar.
• Alora froze mid-chord. The unexpected presence sent a jolt through her, and she immediately dropped her hands from the strings. She turned, her blue eyes wary.
• “Aunt Carol,” she whispered, unsure whether to be delighted seeing her aunt after a long time. “I—” The words caught in her throat. Her mind raced, torn between fear and the truth clawing to be spoken. “That… that Captain Mufasa, he… h-he…”
• Carol’s sharp gaze pinned her down. “Captain Mufasa what?” Her voice was clipped, impatient.
• Alora’s breath hitched. She recalled her promise to captain Mufasa, and swallowed hard. Even if she should speak, who would believe her?
• “He let me go,” she finally said, forcing her voice steady. “He… he’s recovering fast.” The lie burned on her tongue.
• Carol scoffed. “Good riddance.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand, her concern never lingering on Alora’s ordeal.
• Then, with a smirk, she produced a folded letter, the wax seal glinting in the dim light. “A letter from House Keil just arrived.”
• Alora went still.
• Her breath faltered, the air around her growing heavy. House Keil. It’s been three years… Dread coiled in her stomach, cold and suffocating.
• Just hours ago, she had believed herself free—free from Captain Mufasa’s torment, free from his suffocating grip, and his horrible proposal. But now, something worse awaited her here.
• Carol’s lips curled into a wicked grin, enjoying Alora’s distress. “Smart of you to return,” she purred, unfolding the letter with deliberate slowness. “Your engagement is scheduled for a fortnight from now.”
• She gave a satisfied nod. “Prepare yourself.”
• The weight of those words crashed over Alora, suffocating her. Her hands clenched around the guitar, her knuckles white.
• I have to leave. I can’t stay here any longer. Or... maybe I should return to Mufasa. She struggled to keep her tears inside.
• Marrying Sir Edgar, a notorious mafia gang leader would be a sentence worse than any suffering she had ever endured. A life of misery. A cage she would never escape.
• No.
• She had to run. And this time, she wouldn’t fail.
• “And put that dreadful thing away,” Carol snapped, breaking her thoughts.
• Alora quickly set the guitar aside and stood up. “It... it’s for my father.”
• “Don’t mention your dead parents,” Carol spat. She scanned the stable, her eyes narrowing. “And why are you doing nothing, you lazy girl? A guitar won’t put food on the table! Play for the ghosts all you want, but get out there and do something useful.”
• Carol shot Alora a triumphant glance before snapping out her orders. “Go to the city center and fetch the milk gallons. And while you’re at it, remind those worthless customers of yours to pay up—I’m not running a charity!”
• Alora hesitated. “It’s almost noon. I should wait a bit longer.” She needed time to think of her next step.
• “I don’t care what time it is! I won’t tolerate your laziness.”Carol turned and stormed away.
• As Carol left, her phone rang. She answered with a smug smile.
• “Hello, Mufasa,” she purred, her voice dripping with mockery.
• But captain Mufasa wasn’t in the mood for games. His voice came sharp and demanding. “You’ve got the girl. Now pay me what you owe.”
• Carol chuckled, unfazed. "Thanks for delivering her in one piece. However, the deal is off—through no fault of mine, of course."
• “You said to send her back,” captain Mufasa snapped, fury boiling beneath his words.
• Carol’s laughter was light, taunting. “And that was because you took too long to be a man, Mufasa. Old lady Steele would start asking questions if anything seemed off.”
• “You crook,” he spat. “I know about your plan to give her to House Keil.”
• Carol smirked, enjoying his frustration. “She was already betrothed before now. You had your chance.”
• “I know about the letter, Carol. How much lower can you sink?” His disgust was evident.
• You are just as rotten as I am, Mufasa. Carol giggled, unfazed by his scorn. “Now that Sir Edgar is in the picture, your money is nothing.”
• “I don’t care where you get my money, you have just three days to pay back,” he warned. “You tricked me into believing that Alora was in on this, you would have ruined my reputation completely.”
• She remained unhitched. "Once the marriage with Sir Edgar is finalized, we’ll be swimming in wealth. The people who once looked down on us—like that smug Serene and the arrogant elite leader Lupita—are already crawling back, desperate for our favor." Her voice dipped into a low warning. "So you should watch how you speak to me, Mufasa."
• Mufasa let out a bitter laugh. "You and Todd are playing a dangerous game, Carol. I will come for you."
• Carol smirked. "Your money will be ready soon enough," she assured him before hanging up.
• Without another thought, she slid into her car and drove away. There was much to do before the engagement.
• Inside the stable, Alora contemplated her situation.
• Her heart pounded as she weighed her options.
• One: surrender to the devil she knew—Captain Mufasa. He would make her his pawn, his captive, his plaything, but her fate would be better than anything Sir Edgar would offer.
• Two: escape into the unknown. Leave Providence behind. Be free.
• The second choice terrified her more than the first. She had never left Providence. The world outside was vast, unfamiliar, and ruthless. But for the first time, her fate would be in her own hands. No more being a bargaining chip. No more being used.
• Her decision was made.
• Moving swiftly, Alora grabbed the small, worn-out bag she had hidden away in the stable. Her fingers brushed the guitar—her last connection to her father, Billion Steele.
• Tears filled her eyes. Could she leave it behind?
• She hesitated, running her fingers over the familiar wood. This guitar had been her voice when no one listened, her solace when the world caged her. But carrying it would slow her down, make her noticeable.
• I will return for you. I promise.
• Forcing herself to turn away, she steeled her resolve. Her only chance was now.
• Alora was not just running from a marriage, she was taking back her life. She was heading for Willowy Heights—the only place that held memories of her mother, Melissa Steele.