His Mafia Princess - J.H

Chapter 9

Mirriella pov

"Sit up." He demanded.

"Why?" I asked not moving, I was still cockwarming him, but I was laying against him, my chest pushed onto his.

"Sit up." He said again.

When I didn't move, he gripped me hard by the shoulders, causing me to wince slightly and he pulled me to sit up. His grip got looser, but he didn't let go of my shoulders as his eyes scanned across my chest. He brought one of his hands to trace the long scar. He then lightly dragged his hand across all of the smaller burns and scars.

"How'd you get them?" He asked, not looking up.

"They're old, it doesn't matter." I dismissed, trying to get up and off of him. He wasn't happy about that as he gripped my hips and slammed my body back down with immense force.

"I didn't ask if they were old, I asked how you got them. I expect an answer." He said as he looked up at me.

"Well you're not going to get one, so just fucking drop it." I hissed at him.

"Excuse me?" He asked in a stern tone, his eyes visibly darkened.

"You heard me. Please just drop it." I told him as I dropped my shoulders forwards and slouched a little.

"No. How did you get them?" He pried again.

It was obvious he wasn't going to drop it, but I'm stubborn and didn't want to tell him. He didn't like it when I didn't give him an answer.

"Can't you see I don't want to fucking tell you? Why can't you just drop it?" I asked in frustration. He still had a harsh grip on my hips so I couldn't get up.

"And why don't you want to tell me?" He asked seemingly genuinely curious.

"Oh forgive me your royal highness, I don't know how many of these situations you have been in, but where I'm from, hostages don't tell their kidnappers their life story." I said sarcastically as he scoffed.

"You aren't hostage." He denied.

"Yes I fucking am. You aren't letting me leave, actually wait no, forget that. I AM allowed to leave, but in doing so I put my nieces life at risk. Tell me, how is that not a hostage situation?" I shouted at him, my anger growing by the minute.

"Well for starters, hostages don't get given a room or food or clothes. And second, I don't know many hostages that get fucked into oblivion and then cockwarms straight afterwards. So I'd count myself pretty lucky if I were you." He argued.

"I suppose you want a thank you? For being an asshole?"

"No, but I do want to know how you got these fuck scars. So tell me." He demanded.

I sighed and leant against him again. He protested by trying to push me back up, but I dug my shoulder bone into his causing him to wince and let go of me.

"If you want me to explain you can at least let me lay down." I said.

"No. I want to see them, now sit up." I groaned as I sat up again. "Where'd you get these?" He asked as he pointed to the burns.

I sighed as I looked at him almost begging him to not make me tell him. He raised an eyebrow at me waiting for my answer. I sighed again and looked away.

"My mother decided that as a child, whenever I did something she didn't agree with, which was basically everything I ever did, she would use me an ash tray. She burn out her cigarettes onto my skin. I was four when it started and it didn't stop until she died when I was thirteen. She called it her correctional behaviour techniques." I explained as I kept looking out the window.

"What about these?" He asked as he pointed the scars.

"My brother took a lot of drugs to forget the things my grandad did to him. Over the course of eight years he took every different kind of drug imaginable, and some caused him to have violent outbursts. Me being the nine year old, only one in the house weak enough not to fight him back, I was always his target."

"And this?" He asked as he traced his fingers along the scar that travelled down my chest.

"Car accident at twelve. Crashed into a highway block, a metal pole went straight through. It bent in the process and shattered, the scar is from the surgery I had to remove the broken fragments. The last surgery I had done was about two years ago, after they had found even more broken pieces." I explained.

I felt his fingers grip my chin lightly. He turned my head to face him and my eyes met his. He smiled at me, but it wasn't a sweet one, it was a teasing one.

"There. See now was that so hard?" He teased.

I scoffed and quickly got off of him before he had time to react. I pulled my skirt back up my legs and put my shirt on. I then walked into the bathroom to retrieve my underwear, pulling that up my legs as well. I walked out of the bathroom to see him stood in sweatpants, cross armed leaning against the bed post.

"Now where do you think you are going little girl?" He asked.

"Anywhere away from you." I spat as I swung the door open, the handle causing a dent in the wall because of the force and walked out.

I walked down to the kitchen, where I saw the dogs, and Remi stood. She had just bent down to feed the dogs. When she stood back up she looked frightened and surprised.

"Now what are you doing here?" She asked as she leant against the island.

"Honestly, I don't even fucking know." I said as I walked over and took a seat at the island opposite her.

"I thought you were going to get sold, that is pretty much the whole reason he took you into the meeting." She explained as she wiped her hands and a hand towel she had placed on the island.

"Well that's not surprising." I mumbled.