𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

I find myself replaying his words in my mind, a flutter of butterflies stirring in my stomach. Surprisingly, Marco's hug feels strangely comforting. It's unlike any embrace I've shared with anyone else; there's an undeniable sense of warmth and connection. It's a peculiar feeling that I struggle to put into words. I'm not accustomed to Marco being so tolerant, so his willingness to reciprocate my hug feels like a significant milestone for both of us.

Me for hugging him, him for returning the hug. Ever since he left, I can't stop thinking about him. He's the type of man that makes you anxious just being around him, his aura causes me to jumble my words and I'm constantly a physical and mental mess when he's near me.

He hates me and I hate him. I remind myself, that nowadays, I always have to remind myself due to the bizarre things I start feeling.

After what felt like forever, he left my room with a sense of reluctance and I tried to go to sleep. I tossed and turned, and flipped my pillow over to find both sides warm. I couldn't sleep. Not with past thoughts kept creeping up on me, thoughts that I didn't want to have to relive again.

"My sweet blossom," he utters, sending a shiver down my spine, signaling the inevitable torment to come. But can I truly be surprised? After all this time, I should anticipate his cruelty. "Crawl to me, pet," he commands with a harshness that makes me flinch.

"Antonio, I can't. I'm chained," I retort, exasperated by his utter lack of empathy. How does he expect me to comply while bound in chains? Yet, his smile remains, unfazed by my predicament. "I'll come to you then, sweetheart," he replies casually, as if my captivity were inconsequential.

I brace myself as he approaches, urging myself not to show weakness. He kneels beside me, his eyes betraying the sadistic pleasure he derives from my suffering. With a callous disregard for my pain, he presses me against the wall, his grip unyielding as he forces my legs around his waist, his kisses suffocating me like a toxic addiction.

In that moment, we are both consumed by this twisted dance of power and submission. He revels in my anguish, while I endure it, knowing that in his eyes, I am nothing more than a pawn to be used and discarded at his whim. I long to break free, to reclaim my autonomy, but I am trapped in this cycle of degradation and despair.

As he whispers possessive words in my ear, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, I remain silent, resigned to my fate. I loathe him. I loathe the chains that bind me, the degrading pet names he bestows upon me. I loathe every moment of this existence. But trapped in this prison of his making, I am powerless to change anything.

I wake up with a throbbing headache and my face damp. It takes a while for me to calm down, as I try to fix my breathing. Normally, my nerves are much higher at times like this, since today I need to visit my father.

My father owns the second largest mafia in the world, of course, Marcos's family owns the first, meaning my father being strict is an understatement. He's extremely protective but on the plus side, he's taught me how to be extremely good with weapons, especially knives in case I'd ever need to defend myself.

My father's abuse isn't manifested in physical scars, but rather in the erosion of my self-esteem. He undermines my sense of worth, leaving me vulnerable and powerless against his manipulation. My sole purpose becomes pleasing him, as his validation becomes the yardstick by which I measure my own worth. Without it, I am left feeling hollow and insignificant, trapped in a relentless cycle of seeking his approval.

I seem to know that though, but tend to do nothing about it.
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Marcos POV

I can't shake her from my mind, and it's driving me to the brink of insanity. Thankfully, it's term break, and I have two weeks away from school, away from her, and the intoxicating agony she brings. These two weeks are my chance to banish Ruth Bernadette from my thoughts, or so I tell myself.