BOOK 1
Veronica Garcia, a smart and beautiful fifteen-year-old, had endured enough of her stepfather's abuse. One fateful night, during his drunken rage, she seized her chance to escape, fleeing to her abuelo's mansion for solace. However, her newfo...
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Veronica's POV
2 months ago they have been training me nonstop but apparently, I'm still not good enough. I most likely never will be.
I have lost all hope. No one is coming to save me.
The door creaks open and I don't even need to guess who it is, I already know.
I open my eyes and look at Dario.
He stands in front of me, staring at me with his brown eyes. I look away from him, trying to control my anger.
"I want to turn you into perfection," Dario snarls.
I bite my lip, looking down at the ground.
I stay silent.
He grips my jaw tightly. "You will be Perfection, You will be a killing machine."
I try to move away from him but he just grabs me. I can't even do anything to him or else I will get in trouble.
He pushes me into the wall so hard I wince. I look away from him but he grabs my jaw and makes me look at him.
"Listen here you bitch," he snarls, "you will do as I say, do you understand?"
"Yes," I say quietly.
"Good."
Uncle doesn't know about Dario being violent with me, everytime he comes over, Dario is all nice and a respectful Trainer.
I've tried telling Uncle but his response is always the same.
"You need to grow up, you are the Donna of the Spanish mafia."
Tears start to form in my eyes.
Then Dario hugs me, slowly patting my head. "It's okay. You're safe with me, little one. You always will be."
I stay still as he whispers empty promises. Closing my eyes he presses his body against mine.
He disgusts me.
I want to burn him alive.
"Come on, stand up, Hit the punching bag." he says demandingly.
I quickly stand up not wanting him to hurt me, I get into stance and start hitting the bag.
"Again!"
I punch the punching bag several times, panting as I do so. Sweat forms on my forehead as I continue to kick and punch the punching bag.
"Not good enough," Dario tells me, scowling at me. "Do it again. Harder."
I start counting in my head from one the moment I do the combination he has been teaching me on the punching bag.
Ten minutes pass by and I'm still punching and kicking the punching bag.
"Stop."
I stumble back and wipe the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my hand. I pant, my throat dry, desperate for water.
He shakes his head at me, annoyed.
"You are weak."
"I'm doing my best." I grit out.
"Your best is definitely not your best." he chuckles out. "You cant even help your own fucking family from getting shot in the fucking forehead."
"Stop."
"You are just a weak, pathetic, little girl." He says grinning
"Shutup."
"You just hid, like the coward you are." he stares into my eyes.
"Shut the fuck up."
He just leaves with a huge grin on his face, his laughter filling this dreadfull room.
I clench my teeth knowing he is right.
My fists curl into balls, painfully digging my nails into my flesh.
I punch the punching bag out of frustration and I don't stop. I don't stop even when my knuckles bleed. I don't stop when my body begs me to stop. I don't stop at all.
It's not enough.
Nothing can fix the amount of hatred I hold.
For the murderers that killed my Abuelo, for Dario, even for my own fucking step father.
I scream in anger, hitting my head with my fists. My screams echo around the gym.
I kick the punching bag so hard that it falls off and slams onto the floor.
I stare down at it, my chest rising up and down rapidly. My vision blurs and I close my eyes. A headache forms and I press a hand to my forehead.
It's not enough
a little voice in the back of my head again.
I move in front of the brick wall.
My fists tighten, one punch after the other, my fists become bloodier, more bruised.
I don't care.
I need to be better.
"Harder" a cruel voice speak's.
I don't turn around, just carry on punching the wall hard.
"Harder!" He screams. "Do it for your Abuelo, For your mother."
My fists tighten even more at the mention of MY family.
I punch the wall as hard as I can, Causing multiple Screams in agony until I collapse onto the floor.
I look around, constantly blinking. My eyes meet Dario's and I curse under my breath. I can't show weakness. I can't. And now they've got proof that I have.
Dario loudly laughs. "Now this is what I'm talking about!" He exclaims, patting my shoulder.
He exits the room with an evil smirk on his face. Leaving me in a puddle of my own blood, sweat, and tears.
