𝑳𝑰𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑻À

𝟐𝟏. 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭

A/N:
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Can you guys appreciate the fast updates though thanks ly2

Play the song when I tell you !

Chiara:

No.

There's no way, it can't be true.

It's not her it can't be.

"No." I let out as tears gush down my cheeks

"No I went to your funeral, you were in the fucking casket and then you were put 6 feet under no this is not you." Denial, I'm in denial and I know it.

She steps closer, her face mimicking sympathy.

"Oh but it is Chi-Chi."

"Don't fucking call me that!" I snap and her hand meets my face once again, reminding me what our entire relationship consisted of.

"Don't you dare swear at me. Who the fuck do you think you are."

"No who the fuck do you think you are? What kind of mother are you? What kind of mother hits their child and fakes their own death. So I'll fucking swear at you all I like you son of a bitch." I try to pounce on her but I'm held back by the straps on this goddamn chair.

"Oh, you just don't understand do you?" She leans forward til our faces are mere inches away. The smell of her sickly sweet strawberry perfume makes me wish I didn't have a working nose as it intoxicates my lungs.

"Newsflash Chiara, I'm.not.your.mother." She pokes her stiletto nails into my chest after every word and I'm sure she stabbed heart with one of the taps.

The walls of this cold basement suddenly feel like they're closing in on me. Each breath I take begins to feel more and more challenging. I'm carrying a mountain on my shoulders and there's a banging in my head.

She's not my mother.

But she's the last thing I see before I slip into a blanket of darkness.

***

I wake up in my allocated bedroom. My eye scan the room as I adjust to the surroundings until I recognise where I am again.

I don't know how long I've been asleep for but I'm assuming it was practically 24 hours since it's light outside again. They must have given me sedatives, I've been beaten up worse than this a couple times before but I've never once slept for a whole day.

I try to sit up against the headboard until I'm reminded of my thumping migraine. I bring my hands up to squeeze my head slightly, hoping it will ease some of the tension but it doesn't.

Pushing my body up to my feet, I stand and face the mirror. Bruises scatter my face and there's dried blood around my mouth. A mark has also formed where the guards hand wrapped around my throat, and I flinch in pain when my finger brushes against it.

If Leandro saw me right now.

Leandro.

I could be dead and he's yet to make an appearance. The sudden realisation that there's a chance he doesn't care hits me, and I'm beginning to feel more and more like an idiot the longer I wait for him to come and put up a fight for me.