Kidnapped By The Mafia

Next morning

I woke up.

I woke up because I was in pain.

Sunlight speared through a gap in the curtains, casting harsh lines across the room I didn't recognise immediately. Panic clawed at my throat, constricting my airways. Where was I? Then, it all came flooding back. The heated whispers, the rough hands, the agonizing helplessness.

My entire body was covered in painful marks and bruises, from head to my toe. It hurt a lot, especially when I touched my lip. The dried up blood made my lip feel like an open blade when I grazed my fingers on it.

Despite the pain, I decided to get up and try to make myself feel better. Every movement hurt, and I winced with every step. I needed to freshen up, maybe even wash away some of the evidence of what had happened to me. As I slowly made my way to the bathroom, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

The person staring back at me looked like a stranger, a distorted version of who I once knew myself to be. My face bore the signs of swelling, and my body was covered with unsightly bruises. It was like I had become a completely different person overnight. Taking a shaky breath, I forced myself upright but each step sent a jolt of pain shooting up my legs.

Alex was right. She was really fucking ugly. Even I wouldn't wanna be with her. He succeeded in making me believe that I was truly unattractive and unworthy of ever being loved by anyone.

Tears threatened to spill down again but I splashed my face with cold water, purposefully averting my gaze from the sink, which I could sense was stained red. The metallic scent of my own blood lingered in the air, triggering a wave of nausea. Bracing myself against the sink, I hurriedly made my way to the toilet. I felt weak, my legs were shaking but I still managed to make myself a warm bath. I was in there for a while because I heard a series of impatient knocks from outside. Panic gripped me, but I resisted the urge to respond, fearing that it might be him.

"Melena?" Relief flooded over me upon hearing Noah's familiar voice. "Come out, please."

"Go away!"

"Open the door."

"Fuck you."

"We need to talk, Mel."

"There's nothing to fucking talk about."

"You gonna open the door or not?"

"No."

"I'll simply break it open." He warned me.

"I'm fucking showering!" I yelled. "Can't a girl get some privacy around here?"

"I'll give you 5 minutes." Was all he said before it finally went quiet.

Five minutes. That was all I had to pull myself together. But how could I possibly face him, or anyone for that matter, in this state? I quickly changed into a pair of black shirt and trousers and swung the door open, only to be met with Noah's disapproving frown as he scrutinized my appearance.

"You look-"

"Ugly? Yeah, I heard that enough number of times from your "boss" already." I held one hand up to silence him. "Don't bother trying to sugarcoat it."

"I won't." He smiled. "I just meant dead."

With his help, I eased back onto the bed, and he got back with a box of first aid supplies to tend to my injuries. I scoffed when he pulled out some ornaments and bandages and started applying them all over me, reminding me of all the places Xander left scars on. I wanted to shove his hands away but knew damn well that no one would get me an actual doctor around here and I would only end up getting an infection if I acted up.