Alexis

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I felt lonely when I woke up. I missed being held. My daddy would hold me when I felt unsafe. Vincent would, too, but. . . . I didn't know what.

Pulling myself out of bed, my phone rang. I walked away, not bothering to see who was calling me. I made my way into the bathroom, getting ready for the day, which didn't take long because I had no motivation to do anything. I felt terrible and trashy. I couldn't stand my reflection.

Why would anyone want to be with me?

No one does.

That's why Michael left you.

Vincent and Conor only slept with you because you're easy.

You couldn't even keep Conor around– you couldn't even entertain a boy, not a man, but a boy! Fucking pathetic.

I sighed and pulled up my shirt. I was barely tan anymore. I lost all of my color. I lost all of the progress I made from my workouts. I was bloated. My tits look saggy. I was only seventeen, why was I dealing with these issues?

I took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed my phone, and walked down the stairs. Vincent and Dante were in the kitchen, fluently speaking in Italian. I walked over to pour myself a glass of water and a cup of coffee before I sat down.

"Morning, Alex," Dante greeted before returning to his conversation. I nodded, not bothering to respond. I took a sip of water before I started on the coffee.

Usually, we never had coffee in the morning. If we wanted it, then dad would have someone buy him some.

Longing crept upon me. I wanted–

My phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, reading the name. It was Kyle, the waiter from Cima, a place my dad often went to. I slid the call button, putting the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey, Marie. . . ." Longing for my dad struck me. I missed him. "It's Kyle. . . . I've been trying to reach you. I heard about your dad– I'm really sorry. You don't deserve that," he said.

"It's okay," I dismissed, not wanting to be reminded some more. "Thanks for calling."

"Of course. If you ever need someone, I'm here for you. Do you want to get some dinner? I just want to make sure you're okay," Kyle shared.

"Okay. . . . Maybe sometime next week. Text me a place and I'll meet you there," I told him.

"You don't want me to pick you up?" he asked.

"No, it's okay," I responded. "I'll see you later, Kyle. Bye," I dismissed, ending the call.

I didn't realize that Vincent stopped responding to Dante when he heard me answer the call. I looked up when I felt his gaze on my face.

"What?" I asked.

"Who was that? Kyle?" he asked. I nodded. He narrowed his eyes. "You're not going out tonight," he ordered me, his voice rising as if he was angry.

"I can if I want to," I said although I wasn't going anywhere tonight. I didn't want to go anywhere any time soon.

"No, you're fucking not," he corrected me. My face stayed emotionless. I wasn't affected. "You're not going anywhere when someone wants you killed! You're staying in this fuckin' house whether you like it or not!" Vincent yelled, smacking his hand on the table for emphasis.