Not Alone

Chapter 1

Lara pov

 "Hello, did you get my email?" I whispered to my editor, careful not to alert anyone with my voice, not like they can hear me anyway since my room is down the basement but then I can't risk anything.

".Ms. Lara, I got it already and it'll be published this week" Mrs. Gloria replied calmly, not minding the way I whispered, I guess she's used to it now that she doesn't ask questions anymore.

"Hmm, ok thank you" I replied rubbing my old scar 

"Ms. Lara, have you thought about my request?" 

"Mrs. Gloria, I think we discussed this already, there will be no meet and greet, I think my fans will understand" I whispered-yelled because she always brings this up whenever we discussed it on phone and it's starting to get annoying.

"Hmm ok, but whenever you change your mind…huh bye" she replied hurriedly hanging the call not waiting for my reply

As I moved to sit in the corner of my room since there was no bed in my room, I couldn't help the whimpering that left my mouth, holding my knee in hope of relieving the pain that was inflicted by him not quite long because I forgot to clean his room.

After sitting comfortably, I couldn't help but think about my call with Mrs. Gloria. I also wish there was something I can do about it. It's not by choice that I'm staying anonymous to my fans. But a girl can only wish because I'm lacking something very important…freedom.

I wish things could have been different when I won't have to worry about him knowing about my novel or when I won't have to worry about using my real name as the author when I won't have to worry about being caught but I guess life is not fair to everyone.

Even my editors and publishers haven't seen me, they don't know what I look like, it's been a while since I've gone out…outside. That I've seen the real world.

At least, I'm grateful that I finished my secondary school in an actual school, though my older siblings went to boarding school and have finished their university. But he told me that he won't sponsor my university education and that I have to find something to do myself.

I guess that's what pushed my writing skills out, I started writing in my final year of high school when he told me that, and after writing a few books, I became one of the best-selling authors and I've gathered enough money that I'm using to study online which he's not aware of.

While in secondary school, I had a friend but she left without informing me, which confirmed what my dad told me, I can never be loved, ever since she left, I didn't bother to make a new friend because I know in the end they'll leave.

I bet my mother and my twin brother will be happy in heaven seeing how their daughters and husband are dealing with their murderer.

I wish everything will be back to the first 8 years of my life, where there were no worries when I don't have to think of my next punishment when my grandmother was still alive taking care of me when the only mother and father figure of my life is not yet dead when I still know the feeling of love.

Who could have thought that this would be the way the richest man in Nigeria is taking care of his last daughter? I don't even know the feeling of having a rich dad.

I've been living with my grandmother since birth, and it was after she died that I moved to my father's house, the first two years of staying with my dad and sisters, I was still expecting their love thinking they'll realize that I'm just a kid that needs attention and the love she's used to.

The only feeling my father has ever looked at me with is always that of hatred, and disgust. I've never seen him look at me with love or adoration– never, the only people he looked that way are probably my sisters.