His Entertainer

Chapter 8

"Please," I choked out, tears streaming down my face like a sudden downpour. My knees buckled, collapsing onto the cold bathroom tiles, a silent plea to the man whose eyes held no compassion. My hands clasped together, a desperate gesture of supplication. Terror coiled in my gut, constricting my breath, leaving me speechless, staring at him with a hollow ache of despair, devoid of any hope for mercy.

He paused, his gaze lingering on my vulnerable form, a silent assessment of my despair before he turned and walked away, his departure as cold and merciless as the chill that now seeped into my bones. He left me there, utterly exposed, my nakedness a stark reflection of the emptiness that had consumed me. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the soft sobs that wracked my body, the echoes of a hope that had shattered into a million pieces.

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       HERMANN RODRIGUEZ POV.

"What's wrong with her?" I muttered, frustration simmering. I'd given her a lifetime offer, a chance to live under my name, and she'd spurned it.
So she preferred the flashing lights, the leering eyes of a thousand horny men? That's what brought her pleasure? I'd seen the good in her, the potential, yet she chose the worst path. Some people are simply... unbelievable.

I stormed from my room, descending the stairs with a thunderous gait.
"You two behave yourselves while I'm gone," I warned Miguel and Carlos, my finger jabbing towards them. "Protect her. Keep an eye on her twenty-four-seven. And don't piss her off the way you usually do. Get her some decent clothes-" Their eyes met, a silent exchange of disbelief.

"Why are you acting like this?" Miguel asked, his voice laced with confusion.

"How long is she staying?" Carlos added, his curiosity piqued.

"It's none of your business, Miguel. And Carlos, she's staying as long as I say she is. So you better behave yourselves." I emphasized each word, leaving no room for argument.

Norman opened his mouth to question my decision, as he always did, but I cut him off sharply.

"I'm not asking. This is an order!"

I passed Norman, heading for the door, feeling their curious gazes on my back as I closed it behind me.

"Signore, the recruits are ready," Luca said, handing me my car keys.

"Tell them to wait," I replied, starting the engine.

Norman threw himself into the passenger seat just as I was about to pull away. I glanced up at my room's window, and there she was, watching me, tears silently tracing paths down her cheeks.

Seriously, what was wrong with her? Ungrateful.

My fists clenched around the steering wheel. "I smell trouble," Norman whispered.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked, taking a sharp turn, my eyes fixed on his worried face.

"Keeping her isn't a good idea, especially with... you know... everything." He shook his head.

"Relax, Norman. She's just a whore. Nobody cares," I said, giving him a shove.

He rolled his eyes and stared out the window.

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                 IVY SILVER POV.

I watched the car roar away, then crawled onto the bed, utterly spent. The crying had exhausted me, leaving a dull ache behind my eyes and a gnawing emptiness in my stomach. I didn't even know my way around this house. The thought of my friends, my life before... it sent a fresh wave of tremors through me. The unsettling presence of those men in black... it chilled me to the bone.

I wrapped myself in the black blanket, a fragile shield against the encroaching darkness. The frantic beat of my heart was the only sound, a rhythm of fear and loneliness, a desperate plea for a helping hand to pull me from this abyss. My life felt consumed by shadows, with no light in sight.

"Hey... wake up." A voice broke through the fog of my despair. Sunlight warmed my skin, chasing away the chill. It wasn't cold and dark anymore. A sliver of hope pierced the gloom, urging me to shed the suffocating blanket.

"You hungry?" A male figure stood beside the bed. Adrenaline surged, sending a jolt of fear through me. I scrambled back, clutching the blanket.

"Who are you? Don't touch me! What do you want? What did he tell you to do?" The questions tumbled out in a torrent.

"It's okay... I'm Carlos," he said, a gentle smile softening his features. He offered a hand.

Hesitantly, I took it. His touch was warm, surprisingly reassuring.

"I'm Ivy," I whispered, shielding my eyes from the sunlight.

"Now we're not strangers," he said, his smile widening. "I made you some food." He helped me sit up and placed a tray before me. It had been years since I'd been treated like a queen. I attacked the food with gusto.

I moaned with pleasure; it was exquisite.

"You like it?" Carlos asked, and I nodded, unable to tear myself away from the delicious meal.

"We can be friends, right?" he asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice. I looked up, meeting his gaze. "If you promise to make me meals like this," I added, a smile playing on my lips. He chuckled.

He was so kind, so gentle... What was he doing with someone like Hermann Rodriguez? Was he... a prisoner, too?

"Finish up, and I brought you some clothes. Then, come downstairs. We're watching a movie... if you want to," he added softly.

"We?" I asked, a flicker of apprehension in my eyes.

"Don't worry, Miguel's friendly, funny... though a little weird sometimes," he whispered, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. I laughed, the sound surprisingly genuine. For a moment, the terror of Hermann's presence had faded.

"Okay," I said, still catching my breath from laughter.

"See you downstairs, Ivy," he said, jogging to the door, closing it behind him before I could reply. I smiled, shaking my head, and took another bite of bacon.

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