The Devil's Bride (His Lustful Obsession)

Siena was just a girl no one wanted. She had always wondered why she was ever born. Why had the creator seemed it fit to put her in her mother's womb? Had she been created as a mistake? Because I gat was how it seemed. Her creation must have been an accident.

after the accident of her birth, her parents died and that was another thing she could not help wondering about. Had they died because they could not bear to be with and bring up a child like her?

"I must be cursed. Jinxed, more like", she thought miserably . As she stood outside their house

The rain fell hard that day.

She stood on the porch of the Greystone Estate, her school uniform soaked, knees bleeding from another fall she couldn't explain. Her guardian - Aunt Lillian - barely looked up from her phone as she opened the door.

"Don't drip on the marble," she snapped. "Use the servant's entrance next time."

Siena was sixteen. Silent. Dismissed. This was her life. The life she had lunch ved for the past sixteen years and who knows how much longer she would have to leave ve this way. Probably, forever. After all she did not have a say in it. She had been told she should be grateful for the little she got and that she was alive at all. It was a laugh because she didn't feel she was living. She was merely existing and sometimes, she wished for death. She was just too cowardly to commit suicide. It was not as though she had not tried. Oh, she had trued to do away with her miserable life a number of times, but she had been unable to go through with it.

"I am really pathetic", she always thought in self disdain."No one wants s me and I can't even summon the courage to do everyone a favour and end it all!"

She limped through the back and went straight to her room - if you could call the attic that. Cold in the winter, sweltering in the summer. A cot. A cracked mirror. A single bulb that flickered like it was trying to die.

It was darkness. It was hell and she had been asked to be grateful for even this.

"I guess I have to be. Isn't it better than staying in the streets?" she often said with a smile by way of consoling herself.

At school, she was quiet. It was her defense mechanism. Her attire was old and torn, no matter how hard she tried to keep it neat. She still stood out and the bullies had a field day with her.

At home, she was invisible.No one took any notice of her, except to send her on errands, treat her like trash and leave all the chores to her, not caring if she was in good health or not. Rest was a luxury she treasured anytime she could get it.

But though she was