Page 88 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
The scent of cedarwood swept past me, followed by a loud thud that shook the room.
Bruno grunted in pain.
Rafael had slammed him into the wall.
“Loretta will be my wife,” Rafael said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “She will be a member of this family. Your sister-in-law.”
Bruno made a strangled sound.
“You will treat her with respect. In your words. In your actions.”
His grip seemed to tighten because Bruno’s breathing turned ragged.
“Insult her again,” Rafael said softly, “and you’ll learn exactly how expensive that mistake can be.”
The room fell silent.
The words lingered heavily in the air, pressing into the space like something solid.
Then I heard Bruno gasp—sharp, uneven breaths, the sound of someone suddenly allowed to live again.
Rafael had let him go.
I sat there, still trying to make sense of what I had just heard. Of what Rafael had just done. I wasn’t even his wife yet... and still, he had put his brother in his place because of me.
It unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.
“The family will never approve of this. Unless you plan to keep it hidden. But I know you, Rafael—you’ll never allow something like this to stay a secret.”
A bitter pause.
“Why would you even want to marry a fat, blind woman?” he snapped suddenly. “What will the clan say? What is the reason? What are you even thinking? Didn’t you swear off marriage after Zara died?”
His words came fast now, poisoned with disbelief, like the idea itself offended him.
Fat.
Blind, I was used to hearing. It was a word people threw at me like it defined my entire existence. But fat—
My stomach tightened before I could stop it.
I had always known where my weight settled. Not enough to be obvious, but enough that I noticed.
The softness at places I wished were different. The way clothes sometimes clung instead of falling the way I wanted them to.
I wondered, suddenly and unwelcome, if Rafael had noticed too.
If he saw it when he looked at me.
The thought settled in my chest like a quiet, humiliating ache.
My face stayed composed, angled toward the sound of their voices even though I couldn’t see either of them.
“Neither I nor Ramiro will disclose the marriage to the public,” Rafael said.
His voice came closer now. “And neither will you.”
A pause.
