Ephemeral //H.S

Chapter 65

⚠️TW: Sexual assault, explicit violence.⚠️

-Lucy Urbinati-

There it is, that prayer again.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry

Please forgive me.

I love you forever harry...

I've been diligent, if not speaking it then thinking it. All day, everyday since I've been here. Meaning it with every inch of my soul, hoping that the words would reach Harry if I kept repeating them over and over again in my head, hoping he'd hear me and understand.

Or maybe it's just me going insane.

Lunch with Giorgio was almost a failure, but I kept the facade and was believable. Big teary doe eyes, shaky voice, trembling hands, I could see it pained him to hear me talk about what supposedly happened while I was held hostage by Marco and Roman's men. He believed me when I told him that Marco was now working with Roman, the one we all thought murdered my parents. I'm the only one here who knows who the real culprit is, but I'll never let him know it was actually Russel who sent his men on a murder spree to kill everyone we ever loved. For now Giorgio believed that Roman is the one who killed his son, my dad, and that's good enough for me, it gives him another reason to hate Roman and Marco as he now also believes they are working together. 

I told him about the abuse, the beatings I would receive, the shame I felt, the way they used my body for their own pleasure. It was all lies, none of it happened obviously but he believed me.

When lunch was finally over I immediately walked back to my room, and emptied the content of my stomach in the toilet. It's easier for me to tell lies now, but it's never easier on my
brain because all it does is open old wounds. But that's all it did, it made me feel better for a few minutes but every minute I spend in this house makes me feel sicker, if not physically then mentally.

I barely sleep, and when I do it's difficult to stay asleep. Sometimes I lay awake in bed with no real reason to be awake, nothing real to think about, or dwell upon. Sometimes my throat tightens up and I can't seem to be able to breathe, I sometimes feel like I'm dying but it helps to get under the cold water stream of the shower for a few minutes. It hurts so good sometimes I stay for hours until my lips turn blue. Sometimes my head hurts so much it makes me want to scream and cry, to bang my hand against the wall until it cracks open but I don't. My skin itches and all I can think about are the bottles I know are in the kitchen, the expensive ones Giorgio only drinks on special occasions, but I don't because I can't let myself fall back into that. But in the morning I'm never tired, it's like I've been awake for hours already and I'm just ready to get the day over with. Everyday has been the same as the one before.

Breakfast with Giorgio, training with Matteo, lunch with Giorgio, daily checkup with Lucas, dinner with Giorgio.

But today is different, because after weeks of endless days spent under the watch of four to five bodyguards, eyes on me at all times like hungry wolves, watching my every move in case I fall apart, ready to report back to Giorgio at any time. But I didn't, I stuck through it, showing all of them that I'm capable, that I'm strong and that I can be trusted. Giorgio finally allowed me to enter his office.

"Bella, I need to ask you something." He speaks through his thick italian accent, watching me as he sits against the edge of his large wooden desk, hands clasped together. I look up into his eyes, nodding to invite him to keep going.

"How do you feel?" His question catches me off guard, because no matter how closely he's been watching me for the past seven days he still feels the need to ask me how I'm doing.