Chapter 2: Welcome to Hell

Crema’s POV

Enough.

The word came too late.

"Enough, Janine! You're upsetting my daughter!"

Father's voice cut through the room like a blade.

The shouting stopped.

For one second, everything froze.

Then Father stormed into the dressing room.

His face was darker than I had ever seen it.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Janine by the arm and pulled her away from me.

She lost her balance and fell hard to the floor.

"Uncle!" Janine cried. "Please! What are you going to do to me?"

Fear filled her voice.

But so did anger.

The kind that had been growing for years.

Father looked down at her coldly.

"We asked one thing from you, Janine."

His voice was calm.

That somehow made it worse.

"We have tolerated far more than we should have after everything you've done to our daughter."

Mother quietly stepped beside me.

Her hand settled on my shoulder.

Steady.

Protective.

I could feel how tense she was, even though she tried not to show it.

Janine slowly got to her feet.

Her eyes burned with hatred.

Not jealousy.

Not frustration.

Hatred.

The sight sent a strange chill through me.

"Just because Crema is your daughter, you're doing this to me?" she shouted.

Nobody answered.

That only made her angrier.

"I swear on my mother's grave, all of you will regret this!"

The room fell silent.

Her words echoed against the walls.

Father dragged her toward the door.

Still she kept shouting.

Still she kept cursing.

And every word felt less like anger and more like a promise.

A promise that this wasn't over.

Not even close.

The door finally closed behind her.

But the silence she left behind felt worse.

I stood there unable to move.

My chest felt tight.

Why?

Why did she hate me this much?

What had I ever done to her?

No answer came.

Only that uneasy feeling growing heavier inside me.

The family arrived at the palace later than planned.

Outwardly, everything returned to normal.

Inside me, nothing felt normal anymore.

Janine's face refused to leave my mind.

Neither did her words.

The moment I stepped into the venue, dozens of eyes turned toward me.

The grand hall sparkled with lights.

People smiled.

Whispered.

Admired.

"She's beautiful."

"Look at her."

"No wonder the wedding was moved forward."

"Who would let someone like that get away?"

The compliments should have made me happy.

Instead, they made me nervous.

Every smile felt like another expectation resting on my shoulders.

What if I disappointed them?

What if I wasn't the princess they imagined?

I lowered my eyes and forced myself to keep walking.

Smile.

Breathe.

Don't trip.

Don't embarrass yourself.

That was all I could think about.

Then my parents finally placed my hand into Prince Giovan's.

The room faded.

The applause disappeared.

The voices vanished.

Because the first thing he said to me was,

"Welcome to hell."

My heart stopped.

For a second, I thought I had heard him wrong.

But when I looked into his eyes, I knew I hadn't.

There was no warmth there.

No excitement.

No happiness.

Only coldness.

The kind that reached straight into my chest.

Every dream I had about this wedding cracked a little.

Was this really my future?

Was this really the man I was marrying?

Before I could speak, the ceremony continued.

The smiles remained.

The guests kept celebrating.

But suddenly, I felt completely alone.

A shiver ran through me.

What had I just walked into?

"Can't find any words?" Giovan said quietly beside me.

His grip tightened around my hand.

Not enough to hurt.

Just enough to remind me I couldn't pull away.

"I said welcome to hell."

His voice was low.

Cold.

Certain.

"You'll regret agreeing to this marriage."

My throat went dry.

The music played.

People smiled.

Nobody noticed what he was saying.

Nobody noticed the fear slowly spreading through me.

Without another word, he started leading me forward.

I followed because I had no choice.

Because the vows had already been spoken.

Because everyone was watching.

Because I belonged to him now.

The celebration continued around us.

Laughter.

Music.

Congratulations.

A perfect royal wedding.

At least from the outside.

Inside, fear sat heavily in my chest.

Soon my parents would leave.

Soon I would be alone with the man who looked at me as if I were a burden he never wanted.

And the worst part?

I was beginning to realize that Giovan wasn't trying to scare me.

He meant every word.

"What's wrong, darling?"

Mom cupped my face gently.

Her eyes were already shining with tears.

"We have to go now."

Her voice trembled.

"But we'll keep praying for you."

A kiss landed softly on my cheek.

The familiar warmth nearly broke me.

Dad stood beside her, trying to stay strong, but I could see the sadness in his eyes too.

For the first time since arriving at the palace, the reality truly hit me.

They were leaving.

And they were leaving me here.

My throat tightened.

I forced myself to smile.

I didn't want them carrying my fear home with them.

"I'll be okay," I whispered.

The words sounded weak even to me.

Mom hugged me one last time.

Then they turned and walked away.

I watched until they disappeared from sight.

The second they were gone, tears filled my eyes.

I wiped them away quickly.

More followed.

No matter how hard I tried, they kept coming.

I suddenly felt very small.

Very alone.

"Madam, this way, please."

A servant's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I quickly lowered my head and wiped my face.

A young maid stood near the doorway.

Professional.

Polite.

Waiting.

I nodded and followed her upstairs.

If she noticed I had been crying, she was kind enough not to mention it.

As we walked through the palace, she explained where everything was.

The sitting area.

The dressing room.

The bathroom.

The wardrobe.

The room was beautiful.

Far more beautiful than anything I had ever imagined.

Yet it didn't feel like mine.

Nothing here belonged to me.

Not the furniture.

Not the decorations.

Not even the clothes.

Everything had already been prepared by order of the king.

The only thing I had brought from home was my wedding dress.

And even that suddenly felt meaningless.

"Sir has instructed that you remain in your room until he returns," the maid said.

"If you need anything, simply tell me. I'll bring your meals and anything else you require."

I nodded politely.

"Thank you."

She smiled.

"Have a good evening, Madam."

She was almost at the door when I stopped her.

"Wait."

She turned back.

"Do you know where Prince Giovan went?"

Something flickered across her face.

Gone so quickly I almost missed it.

"I'm sorry, Madam."

Her smile remained perfectly professional.

"It isn't my place to know where my employer goes."

Before I could ask anything else, she excused herself and left.

The door clicked shut behind her.

The room suddenly felt much larger.

And much quieter.

I locked the door.

Then leaned against it.

Slowly.

Exhaling.

Was this the hell Giovan had spoken about?

Because if it was, I was already beginning to feel it.

Not through cruelty.

Not through punishment.

But through loneliness.

The dreams I once had about marriage felt foolish now.

I had imagined friendship.

Partnership.

Maybe even love.

Instead, my husband had welcomed me with a warning.

Welcome to hell.

The words wouldn't leave my mind.

Maybe he never wanted this marriage.

Maybe he only obeyed his father's orders.

Maybe every time he looked at me, he saw someone standing in the place of the woman he truly wanted.

Janine.

The thought hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I pressed a hand against my chest.

There was no point thinking about it.

Whatever happened now, I would have to face it alone.

No one could do it for me.

Eventually, I forced myself toward the bathroom.

The wedding dress suddenly felt too heavy.

Too tight.

Too much.

I needed to breathe.

The warm water helped.

At least a little.

But when I stood before the mirror afterward, wrapped in a soft bathrobe, the doubts returned.

I studied my reflection.

Was I really so difficult to like?

So easy to reject?

My face warmed in embarrassment.

I knew almost nothing about being a wife.

Mother had always told me I would learn after marriage.

That everything would come naturally.

But standing here now, alone in a stranger's room, I wasn't so sure.

For the first time, I felt frightened of the future.

Not because of what I knew.

Because of everything I didn't.

Trying to distract myself, I opened the wardrobe.

Rows of dresses greeted me.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

Expensive.

Yet none of them felt familiar.

None of them felt like home.

I reached for one.

Then froze.

The bedroom door opened.

My heart jumped.

I turned too late.

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind.

My entire body went rigid.

A gasp escaped my lips.

The warmth of another person pressed against my back.

Close.

Far too close.

For one terrifying second, I forgot how to breathe.

"Giovan..."

My voice barely came out.

"I didn't know you'd be back so soon."

I swallowed hard.

"The maid said, "

"Shh."

The single word stopped me.

Not loud.

Not harsh.

Just enough to silence everything else.

My pulse hammered in my ears.

I could feel his presence behind me.

Feel the tension.

The distance he had created all day suddenly gone.

And somehow that frightened me more.

I turned quickly.

Needing space.

Needing air.

Needing to understand.

"I should get dressed first."

The words rushed out.

Awkward.

Nervous.

Honest.

For a moment, Giovan simply looked at me.

Then a low laugh escaped him.

Not warm.

Not mocking.

Something far more difficult to understand.

And for the first time since arriving at the palace, I realized I wasn't sure which version of Giovan frightened me more.

The cold prince who welcomed me to hell.

Or the man standing in front of me now.

"You're playing coy," he murmured.

Before I could react, he pulled me back against him.

My breath faltered.

The warmth of his body surrounded me, making it impossible to ignore how close he was.

Too close.

Far too close.

My heart pounded wildly.

Not because I understood what was happening.

Because I didn't.

Hours ago, he had looked at me as though marrying me was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Now he was holding me like he couldn't decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.

"Giovan..."

His name barely escaped my lips.

A low laugh rumbled from his chest.

"You look terrified."

I swallowed.

Because he wasn't entirely wrong.

"I don't understand you."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

For a moment, silence filled the room.

His arms loosened slightly.

Just enough for me to turn around.

Our eyes met.

The air between us felt charged.

Dangerous.

His expression became unreadable.

"That's because you keep looking at me like I'm the villain in your story."

"Aren't you?"

The question surprised both of us.

Something flickered across his face.

Gone almost immediately.

Then he stepped closer again.

Not touching.

Not yet.

But close enough that I could feel the tension between us.

"Maybe you should stop believing everything you think you know."

My pulse raced.

Nothing about this felt simple.

Nothing about him felt simple.

The palace.

The marriage.

His warnings.

The coldness.

The contradictions.

Everything felt like a puzzle I wasn't supposed to solve.

Yet somehow, I couldn't stop trying.

"Then tell me the truth."

His jaw tightened.

For a second, I thought he might.

I thought the walls would finally come down.

Instead, his gaze softened in a way that frightened me more than his coldness ever had.

Because beneath all his anger...

there was pain.

Real pain.

The kind that came from old wounds.

The kind that never truly healed.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure which one of us should be afraid.

Me.

Or the man who clearly didn't want me close enough to see what was hiding behind his walls.