Fatalé (18+)

Chapter fifty two

⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️ this chapter contains distressing topics, (trafficking/abuse/torture/rape). Highly recommend 18+ readers. (Read with CAUTION. You've been warned.)

Ilaria

"Ilaria."

For the first time in a long time, I counted the days I've been in this loop hole of hell. It's been four days since I've been counting, and four days since Sin whipped me in front of everyone in this ring. Since that day, I've been determined.

Determined to leave.

"Ilaria." A gentle voice calls out, I inhale a breath as I return to a cold reality. My eyes quickly roam around the room before they settle on Mila who sat next to me, stroking my hair back as a way to comfort me. She's been my comfort for the last four days. I curl besides her and feel my stomach rumble. "I made you some soup to help you feel better. Sit up, and eat."

"Mila..." I mumble, shaking my head as I refuse to eat but as I refuse, my stomach rumbled louder than the last.

"Come on, sit up Ilaria. You have to eat." She urged me, "We have to get ready for tonight."

"Why? What's happening tonight?" I ask as I sit up slowly, eyeing the soup that Mila made for me. It smelt amazing, that's probably why my hunger was out of control for my stomach to be rumbling like that.

"It's an auction."

I quickly glance up at Mila and feel my stomach drop. My heart thundered in my chest, I could hear it in my ear.

"Another one already?" I gulp, Mila watches me but I can see the frown slowly forming. "I thought those things happen once every six months?"

"Yes, it does." She says, pushing my bowl of soup to me so I could eat. "But right now, business isn't doing good for Bratva. All the girls they're getting are not doing a great job, so they need them gone."

"That's so fucked." I mumble. Losing all my appetite of eating this soup, now I just play with it with the spoon in my hand. Mila sighs, it was heavy with fatigue and pure sadness, and I pick up a spoonful of her soup and shove it in my mouth. My tastebuds exploded in my mouth, this soup was delicious.

"Ilaria, it doesn't get easy I just want to warn you." She mumbles,

"I know, you've already warned me." I glance up at her and take another spoonful of soup. God, this was amazing. "How have you learnt to deal with it?"

"I...." She mutters, I glance at her and raise a brow, "I just keep quiet." She finishes. I wanted to tell her that we're not the same, that while she could keep quiet, I can't. I know it doesn't help the situation, or change the situation but I was sick and tired. Mila was only trying to help me, and I saw that too clearly that I was in complete denial that this is my reality from now on. I wanted to fight because I know I was a fighter, but as Mila continues, all hope is killed. "I was like you. I fought and fought, and no one could handle me until they gave me to Sin. I was forced into a marriage with him, and I also made it clear to all of them that it wouldn't make a difference, and that I'd make their lives a miserable hell. Sin threatened to kill my family instead of returning me to them, I didn't listen and continued fighting, until one day, he actually did kill my entire family and made me watch."

Mila gulps, her eyes left me a long time ago and she stares into oblivion. She was long gone, I wouldn't be able to break it just like that. So I keep quiet because I wanted to hear more. Mila's been through so much, I already know but I'll never feel the trauma she felt. Not everyone's trauma is the same, although it shouldn't be anyway. I set my spoon down and watch her lose her touch to reality.