adrianna

1

Present Time.

Adrianna pov

Slight amusement mixed with numbness.

That's all I feel as my dad gives me my daily beatings, or in his words my 'lessons'.

My 'dad' is in some sort of gang shit and he says he only hurts me so I can be prepared for the real world. Of course I don't believe him because I'm not an idiot. He's hurting me because he's a dirty fucker who enjoys watching others suffers. He likes to bring his friend Nikolai around who is also in their gang, and uses me as torture practise. I did have a mother, Maria, but she was just as bad as Jack and fortunately died a few years back.

I wasn't always in Jack's care. He openly admitted that they sold me to Russians for a good sum of money when I was born and I came back to him when I was 11. He's not even sure why Ivan tried to lie about him travelling the world.

But I did travel the world and got taught different languages everytime we went to a different country for missions which was definitely a bonus.

But I'm currently getting beat for coming home late after a fight. I'm a well-known street fighter and racer going by the name 'Sinner'.

I'm also a well trained assassin and anyone who has heard of me, knows not to mess with me. One wrong look could mean their death. Nobody knows what I look like, my age or even if I'm a female. Of course all these sexist fuckers think I'm a man. Unbelievable.

I learnt everything I know when I lived in Russia...I just don't remember who taught me.

The jobs I do is is my main source of income but I never bring any of it back to Jack's home because him and Maria would spend it all on all sorts of debauchery.

I bought myself an apartment to keep all my expensive things, and that's where I usually go to clean myself up after I fight.

I used to have a house, but there too many memories there. Besides the mortgage was overly pricey.

Jack has always been abusive. He would always beat me and touch me for small things. I don't remember anything from when I was 3, but I assume nothing good came out of it. Age has never been a problem for my parents. As long as they find a way to get what they want, they don't care what happens to me.

Jack would never really touch me when Maria was at home, but sometimes she would go on work trips or be passed out on the couch and Jack would bring his friend over and this is when the real pain started.

I don't like to refer to either of them as my parents. They lost that privilege the first time they put a hand on me.

I stopped feeling pain a long time ago, thanks to how I was trained. I was also taught to separate my mind from my body so when I was tortured by enemies (or in my case beaten by my dad) I wouldn't feel anything.

But I stopped doing that when I fell in love with the pain. Call me a masochist, but I love it. I've found myself looking forward to my beatings, just for the feeling of the only thing keeping me sane.

Sometimes I want to endure the pain because I deserve it. Sometimes I can't help but love the pain I'm feeling, or sometimes I feel nothing, like now as Jack continues to whip my back with his belt.

He pushes me on my back, ignoring the welts that start to develop. He leans over me and starts kissing down my neck, hands wondering over my body.

Jack wasn't the first person to have to have touched me sexually. When I turned 10 I had to go missions that required sexual contact, but this is different. I was okay with doing that, but Jack doesn't care how I feel and now I know I can only rely on myself.