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My Wedding Night Revenge Novel Cover

My Wedding Night Revenge

The wedding reception has barely ended when crude groomsmen corner the bride with a vulgar tradition. Instead of defending her, her new husband, Bartholomew Lyons, excuses their behavior. When Vincent Estes threatens that her silent bridesmaids won't leave the village unharmed if she refuses, the bride decides to give them a different kind of wedding gift. Armed with a training whip gifted by her master, she prepares to purge the evil from her new home and fight her way to peace.
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Chapter 2

2: 2

Bartholomew's voice came through the door, cold and sneering.

"You think hiding in there fixes anything? You forgot. This is my house. I've got a spare key."

The bathroom handle began to press slowly downward.

"Don't let go. Hold it shut, hard."

I braced my back flat against the door, planted my feet, and threw my whole weight into it.

The bridesmaids snapped to it and pushed against the door with me.

But the groomsmen outside had gone wild, throwing their bodies against it.

Each slam sent a numbing jolt through my bones, and my shoulder ached like it might split apart.

Hester and I had been guarded so carefully by the academy's senior students all our lives that neither of us had kept up a scrap of real training.

In a situation like this, going head-to-head with grown men was just asking to get hurt.

All I could do was keep turning over some way out, some way to turn it back on them.

Heavy panting and laughter came from the other side.

"You really think you're safe hiding in there? Put your backs into it, boys."

Bartholomew spoke up unhurriedly, his tone sliding right back into the soft, coaxing note he'd used on me earlier.

"Jenny, open the door yourself, now."

"Come out like a good girl and finish the game, and I can still talk them out of laying a hand on you."

"Otherwise, once they force their way in and their tempers are up, I won't be able to control them."

I clenched my teeth, shaking with rage, and refused to give him a single word.

At the one moment that mattered, I couldn't count on this coward to shield me, and not one word out of his mouth could be trusted.

Just as we were about to lose the door, my mother-in-law's voice came from outside.

A flicker of hope shot up in me.

She was a woman too, and our elder. Surely she could put a stop to this farce.

But she didn't try to stop it. She screamed at me instead.

"Jennifer, get your ass out here right now."

"For miles around, what new bride doesn't get put through the wedding-night hazing? What makes you so precious?"

"On your own wedding day, hiding in the toilet? Are you trying to bring bad luck down on this family?"

I bit down hard, tears swimming in my eyes.

"Mom, they're acting like thugs. Bartholomew won't stop it, and now you won't either?"

"What thugs? This is a custom our ancestors passed down. No hazing means bad luck."

Her voice dropped lower, thick with the disgust of someone who couldn't whip a nail into shape.

"She wants to play the prude, so use the screwdriver and pry it. First day married, you set the rules with her, and set them right."

"Won't even go along with a game. How are we supposed to count on her to serve and honor her in-laws later?"

Bartholomew picked it up from outside, and his voice carried a cruelty I'd never heard from him.

"Jennifer, always so high and mighty. You really think being some white-collar somebody makes you special?"

"Today you married into the Lyons family, and this temper of yours needs a good reining in."

Soon a prying sound came from the crack, and the tip of the screwdriver poked through.

It forced open a gap a finger wide.

With the men outside chanting as they slammed into it, the gap kept widening.

Hester threw herself to the front to shield me, and her fingers got caught in the crack.

The senior students never even let her carry the heavier sandbags, and now she was pushed to this.

The men outside slammed in again.

The pain drained the color from her face, tears springing from the corners of her eyes, but she bit her lip and refused to let go.

It broke my heart. I yanked her back fast.

"Hester, are you okay?"

She shook her head, biting her lip, one hand tucked behind her back, the other still braced hard against the door.

Outside, my mother-in-law kept urging them on.

"Push, damn it. A bunch of grown men can't shove one door open? Aren't you ashamed?"

"Once her family notices, there'll be no chance to haze the bride."

Vincent's voice was almost giddy.

"Stop struggling. Let your big brothers come in and help you out."

Bartholomew swore too.

"Once I'm in there, I'll show you exactly what a wedding-night hazing is."

Then his hand shoved through the crack and clamped onto my wedding gown.

"Get out here, you!"

A huge pull ripped through it. My foot slipped and I lost my balance.

The door flew wide open.

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