Married To A Cassanova Billionaire

I sat among the bevy of ladies who had made my stay here a living hell. Their laughter was sharp, merciless, and unrelenting, piercinginto my ears. Each chuckle was a weapon, a reminder that I didn’t belong here. I didn’t know when their hatred began or why I had become their target, but I had learned quickly that their cruelty wasn’t a passing thing—it was as permanent as the bars on the windows and the locks on the doors.

Their whispers circled me like vultures, dissecting every part of me. My clothes, my face, my silence—they tore it all apart, feeding off the scraps of my dignity. My life has never been the same since I stepped foot into the coven of witches. My hands rested in my lap, trembling slightly, though I tried to keep them still. I had learned not to react. Reacting only made it worse. Still, the weight of their mockery pressed down on me, each insult like another stone added to the pile I was already struggling to carry.

Suddenly, a voice boomed through the room, cutting through the cacophony like a blade. “Does anyone know Thelma?” The mockery evident in her voice.

The room went quiet for a split second before erupting into a chorus of mocking replies.

“No!” the women shouted in unison, their voices loud and defiant. Their denial wasn’t just an answer; it was an assault, a collective effort to erase me forever. The word slammed into me like coal, burning and unrelenting.

I froze in place, my chest tightening as though invisible hands were squeezing the air out of me. My name was not a comfort here. It wasn’t even mine anymore. It had become something they used against me, a weapon wielded with scorn to make me feel smaller and more insignificant with every passing day.

My heart pounded in my chest as the room fell into silent again. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. A police officer barged into the cell, pulling me out by my arm.

“You're hurting me.” I complained.

”Quiet” he scolded, the ladies crashed out laughters that seemed to have no end.

While Outside, I saw a man and a woman stepped inside, their presence commanding attention like a sudden gust of wind in a suffocating room.

The man’s face was unreadable, his sharp jaw and piercing eyes giving nothing away. His suit was dark and neatly pressed, a stark contrast to the disarray of this place. Beside him, the woman carried a softer air. Her scarf draped loosely over her shoulders, and her warm brown eyes locked on me almost instantly. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength that seemed to fill the space around her.

“Thelma,” the man said, his voice firm but not unkind. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement, pulling me out of my frozen state like a rope pulling me from a deep well.

“How did you know my name” I murmured.

I trembled, slowly walking close to them, scraping loudly against the floor in the silence that followed. My movements felt sluggish, as if my body couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Around me, the mocking grins and sneering faces of the officers began to falter. The air shifted, the atmosphere heavy with confusion and disbelief.

Who were these people? Why were they here for me? My thoughts raced, a hundred questions flooding my mind all at once. Relief and suspicion warred within me as I tried to process what was unfolding.

Has God sent angels to save me.