Elina

Chapter 1 - Sold

Disclaimer: I don't speak Russian or Italian; everything is from google translate. Don't come after me.

Elina POV:

Seven. That's how old I was when my personal hell started.

Like everyone else, I had a normal childhood at one point in my life. Playing outside, getting bruises, going to amusement parks, eating messily. That all ended when one night my dad came home, dead drunk, and started to beat the shit out of my mother and me.

To this day I still wonder what happened and why he did it.

One time, a week after that horrible night, I nervously asked if I could go to a classmate's birthday party. I knew he wouldn't agree, but still asked anyway. I remember him looking at me like I was dirt, something disgusting. He stood up and beat me so hard I couldn't go to school for a week. All he said was "don't ask me anything ever again" and left me on the floor, unable to move or scream for help until my mother came home.

Where was my mother all this time you ask? Yeah, she worked the whole day, earning money for that piece of shit father of mine. Working shift after shift. He went to 'work' too, while in reality he was just drinking and smoking all our money away.

After that, things only got worse. Everyday. Every single day I got beaten and yelled at for the smallest things.

If I hadn't done the dishes in time. If his food was a tat bit cold. If his clothes had one wrinkle in it. You name it, I did it wrong.

Keep in mind, I was only a kid.

That's how a routine was created. Coming home from school, trying to do my chores right like a little maid, get beaten if something was wrong and go to bed, silently crying.

That went on for eleven years.

The week before I turned eighteen, my dad was being abnormally nice to me. He gave me a lot of food, something I wasn't allowed to have enough from. Gave me pretty clothes to wear, make-up, even smiled sometimes and didn't beat me. At all.

I gained a little weight in that week, not looking so skinny and unhealthy as before. My pale skin wasn't covered in bruises anymore, still had some scars, but not obvious ones. I actually looked a little pretty.

Maybe all those terrible days are over. The seven-year-old inside me had hope that my daddy dearest finally came back.

Those were the thoughts I had until the night of my eighteenth birthday.

My father brought me to a fancy-looking restaurant. 'Eternity' it said in big white letters. We went inside and were brought to our table after giving our names. The table was way too big for just two people. But I didn't think anything of it. I was more focused on the fact that my dad brought me to a restaurant, something he hadn't done in eleven years.

A waiter came to our table and took our orders. While we were waiting for our food, my dad looked around frantically, as if expecting someone. I asked if everything was alright. He said "everything is fine" then looked over at me, in an inspecting kind of way. "Just fine".

I frowned and looked away. Weird. Taking in my surroundings, a group of three very handsome men caught my attention. They were seated close to the entrance. One was on the phone with a very serious expression on his face. The other two were talking to each other, looking very...excited? They must really like this restaurant. Apart from them, the restaurant wasn't very full, just a few families here and there.

I continued to stare at them until one of them suddenly turned his head, making direct eye contact with me. A smirk spread on his face and then he waved at me.