Love Slave to the Mafia Boss's Passion 18

The Groom Arrives

The priest recoiled in shock as he put both hands up above his head in surrender. I hoped he didn’t

piss his pants. Actually, I couldn’t tell if he had, but I could tell that he had started openly crying in fear. I

better shut up and wait until this event ends if I want to keep my head in one piece and on my neck and

shoulders.

“Where is my son? Where’s Hayden?” the boss screamed at the top of his lungs.

Great, so his name is Hayden. Not only have I never met my husband-to-be before, I didn’t even know

his name. I also haven’t seen a photo of him and so I didn’t know what he looked like. Not that I was

interested. If I had no choice but to marry him anyways, what difference does it make whether he’s as

handsome as a prince or as ugly as a beast.

The boss turned around and started waving his gun at the rows upon rows upon rows of men dressed

head to toe in back suits, the standard uniform of the mafia it seems.

It was a rare sight to see men of various ages shift uncomfortably in their seats just like little kids who

have been caught doing something mischievous as they looked anxiously at each other. It was obvious

that no one wanted to deliver bad news to the boss.

“Umm…I’m sure that Hayden is on the way boss. You don’t need to worry…” a man who I assumed

was one of the boss’s trusted men said as he tried to reassure the boss.

“I don’t need to be worried? Hayden is late!” the boss screamed, his face getting redder from anger.

“He’s on the way boss. Please wait just a little longer,” the man quickly said.

“Do you know where he is? Have you found him?! Answer me!!” the boss continued to scream as he

grabbed the man by his collar and started pulling hard on it.

The men looked at each other while they thought about how to deal with the boss and his violent

temper. I could tell that Hayden hadn’t been found. To be honest, I don’t blame him for not turning up. I

imagined that he felt the same way that I did. Who in their right mind would want to marry a woman he

has never met or heard of before? Just like I didn’t want to marry him, he clearly doesn’t want to marry

me.

Thank you, Hayden or whoever you are. Thank you for not turning up.

If this marriage fails because he didn’t turn up, then it won’t be my fault. I prayed so desperately like I

have never prayed before. I wasn’t a religious person and I hardly believed in God. However, if God is

real, please just let me return to my old peaceful life back in the quiet countryside.

“Master Hayden has arrived!”

What?!

“Perfect! My Hayden is finally here!” the boss shouted happily, a smile blooming on his face.

I, on the other hand, felt like I was doomed for all eternity. Why did he have to turn up now? Did he This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

change in mind about this marriage?

I whirled around as fast as I could in my heavy and overly puffy wedding dress to face the direction of

the church’s entry. The large wooden door slowly opened, so dramatically slowly like we were really

caught up in a movie.

I held my breath as I waited for my husband-to-be to walk through the door. I wondered what he would

look like. If his father had to go so far as to arrange a marriage for him, then he’s probably old, ugly,

and unable to find his own girlfriend despite the wealth that he seemed to possess.

“Hayden!” the boss cried out in excitement as he clapped his hand joyfully as he saw his son entering

the church.

I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting but what I saw was out of this world. Forget what Hayden

looked like, I couldn’t even see his face clearly. Hayden didn’t walk in on his own. To be exact, it

seemed that he couldn’t walk on his own or support his own weight at that moment. Two tall men,

dressed entirely in black with sunglasses on, supported Hayden on both sides by draping his arms on

their shoulders.

Oh, great. Hayden seems to be…unconscious?

As far as I could tell Hayden was being dragged into the church by two men. He seemed unconscious

and unaware of his surrounding and what was going on. As the men walked further into the church, I

could see Hayden closer and clearer.

Although his face was not clearly visible because his body was bent forward with his head hanging low,

I could tell that he wasn’t old and ugly. Hayden was tall…very tall. The two men in black supporting him

were much larger and taller than standard men but the hunched-over Hayden was taller. He had light

blond hair and wasn’t dressed for the role of the groom. That’s for sure.

When the two men walked him down the aisle, or more like dragged him, I finally understood why and

so did most guests in the church. The unpleasant stench of alcohol was so intense that I was sure that

everyone could smell it. My nose twitched at the smell, and I instinctively started fanning the air in front

of my nose by waving my hand.

Hayden was dead drunk.

From the way he was dressed, I could surmise that the two men dressed him while he was

unconscious. Hayden didn’t have a shirt on, but someone did put white pants, a white blazer suit and a

black leather pair of shoes on him. His well-defined chest muscles and the six-pack of his stomach was

clearly visible through the opening of his white unbuttoned blazer.

So…this is my husband-to-be. To be honest, he didn’t look as bad as I imagined he would be. He

seemed young, around my age if I had to guess, and he was tall, well-built and I guess good looking.

That, however, did not stir my heart at all. No matter what, I did not want to marry this man.

I wanted to ask if we could go ahead with the wedding ceremony with the groom clearly unconscious,

but I was afraid his father would blow my brains out, literally, with his gun. I kept silent instead as I

waited to see what would happen next.

The guests, which consisted mostly of the mafia gang members, started whispering to each other in

low hushed voiced. I couldn’t catch what they were saying but I had a good guess. I could surmise from

what I’ve heard before that this Hayden guy had a little bit of a mixed popularity pole amongst his fellow

mafia gang members.

“Umm…is the groom even conscious?” the old priest whispered so softly that I almost couldn’t hear

him.

Exactly…thank you for pointing that out, priest!

--To be continued…