Sold to a Monster The Bride Who Fought Back

My mother spent half her life competing with my Aunt Grace Abbott, and nothing gave her more pleasure than doing the exact opposite of whatever Grace did.

Aunt Grace raised my cousin Stella with every luxury money could buy—never once hesitating to spend.

My mother, Vivian Pruitt, insisted on raising me in deprivation.

She forced me to scavenge through trash to feed myself. One steamed bun a day—that was my allowance.

"Coddling only breeds weakness. Hunger and hardship forge willpower. Someday you'll surpass your cousin by miles."

After graduation, Aunt Grace couldn't resist showing off that Stella had landed a boyfriend from a wealthy family.

That very same day, my mother tore my job offer to shreds—an offer from one of the top companies in the country.

Then she sold me off in marriage to the bald, four-times-married man next door. The bride price? One dollar.

"I always knew your aunt was selling her daughter for status. Mark my words, your cousin's headed for disaster. I'm not asking you to marry rich. I just want you with a man who'll treat you right. And you will give him three sons before your cousin's wedding—just to put her in her place."

I stood frozen.

A wave of helplessness rose from somewhere deep inside me, so heavy it crushed the air from my lungs.

This time, I didn't fight back. I accepted it with a calm I didn't feel.

——

I'd thought landing that offer would finally make her happy. Finally get her to stop.

But in the end, I realized the truth.

This war she waged against Aunt Grace—it would never end. Not in this lifetime.

A reckless idea sparked in my mind. I had to take the gamble.

When my mother saw me nod, her face split into a grin.

"I knew you'd agree! Do you have any idea how long I searched to find you such a good man?"

"Think about it—the moment you marry him, you get three sons for free! Pop out three more, and who could possibly compete with you?"

"Sure, Joel Lambert's a little older, but older men have their advantages. He'll know how to take care of you..."

There are moments when you're so far beyond words that all you can do is laugh.

The man next door—old enough for me to call Dad.

All four of his previous wives had died of cancer, leaving behind three half-grown boys. Every woman in the neighborhood crossed the street to avoid him. But my mother couldn't wait to shove me into that fire.

Her obsession with one-upping Aunt Grace had reached the point where my life or death simply didn't factor in.

Something tore open in my chest, and cold wind poured through the gap.

As if she hadn't driven enough knives into my heart over the years.

When Aunt Grace enrolled Stella in art classes and horseback riding lessons, my mother immediately dumped every household chore on me. "What's the point of all that nonsense? Better you stay home and help me."

When Stella sneezed, Aunt Grace rushed her to the hospital for a full checkup. When my appendix nearly ruptured and I was writhing on the floor in agony, my mother stood over me and scolded, "Don't be like your cousin—running to the hospital over nothing."

Aunt Grace sent Stella abroad early to polish her credentials, despite Stella's grades being abysmal. When I got accepted to a top university, my mother blocked me from going. "Degrees are worthless these days. You'd be better off working a factory line."

If it weren't for the school principal and my teachers showing up one after another to talk sense into her, I'd have dropped out long ago.

So no—her reaching this level of cruelty didn't surprise me. Not one bit.

I was tired. Numb. Done fighting.

I turned and walked into my room.

She followed me to the doorway.

"Sweetheart, I'm doing this for your own good."

"Why would a girl like you want to kill herself working at some big company? Better to find an honest man and settle into a real life."

"Your cousin snagged a rich boy—sure, looks glamorous on the surface. But playboys get bored. Sooner or later, he'll toss her aside."

She said this with an easy smile. Perfectly at peace.

And me? I felt like a fishbone had lodged in my throat.

Couldn't cough it up. Couldn't swallow it down.

She was the only family I had in this world.

And every single time, she'd push me to the edge of a cliff—then press her hand to her heart and say those words, I'm doing this for your own good, as if that made black white and wrong right.