Whispers of Desire

Wounded

  Amore Rodriguez

The rain-drenched streets reflected the glimmering lights of the city as Amore navigated her way through the labyrinthine roads leading to the house she once vowed never to return to. The air was thick with the familiar scent of dampness, each droplet a reminder of the storms she weathered within those walls. The funeral had been a sombre affair, attended by distant relatives and former associates of her late father, a man whose cruelty had left scars etched into her soul. She stood amidst the cold gravestones, the rain mingling with her tears as she faced the harsh reality – her father was gone, but the shadows he cast still lingered.

The key turned in the rusty lock, the creaking door protesting the intrusion. The dimly lit hallway stretched before her, memories of pain and anguish concealed in its shadows. She took a tentative step, the weight of the past settling on her shoulders like a burden she couldn't escape. The house was frozen in time, a mausoleum of broken promises and shattered dreams. She ascended the staircase, the familiar creaks beneath her feet echoing the years of silent suffering. As she reached the door of her former room, she hesitated, her hand trembling as she pushed it open.

The room, frozen in the past, seemed smaller than she remembered. Faded posters adorned the walls, remnants of a time when dreams were still alive. The bed, an unwelcoming haven of nightmares, awaited her reluctant return. The air felt stifling, each breath carrying the weight of years spent enduring the cruelty of her stepmother. She had sworn never to return, yet here she was, dragged back by the chains of obligation and a legacy she never chose. The funeral had unravelled the delicate threads of the life she had painstakingly built, exposing the raw wounds she thought time had healed. As the hours passed, she moved through the motions, attending to the practicalities of settling her father's affairs. The funeral home, the lawyer's office – each place a portal to a past she desperately wanted to forget.

The weight of inheritance, a house tainted with memories, and the remnants of a family that never provided solace. Night fell, casting the house in a suffocating darkness. The rain continued its relentless dance against the windows, a mournful symphony that echoed her inner turmoil. The door creaked open, and her stepmother's presence slithered into the room like a serpent, cold and calculating.

"Back for your inheritance, are you?" her stepmother sneered, the venomous words cutting through the air. The frail light in the room flickered, casting eerie shadows on the worn-out carpet. Amore swallowed the lump in her throat, summoning the strength to face the woman who had orchestrated years of torment. "I'm here to settle matters, nothing more."The confrontation was inevitable, a clash of wills that resonated through the walls of the haunted house. As the night wore on, Amore found herself ensnared in a web of painful memories and present-day battles, the echoes of her father's cruelty reverberating in the darkness. In the silence that followed, as raindrops continued their melancholic descent, Amore sought refuge in the sanctuary of her mind. The storm within her mirrored the tempest outside, both relentless in their pursuit of closure and redemption.

-

"Aren't ya' a nurse or something?" she sneered. Well, she was. As a matter of fact, Amore made a decent amount of cash monthly, but living with her father and stepmother, who saw her as nothing more than a walking ATM, didn't make it any easier. Amore couldn't bear the physical abuse she endured, let alone the mental torment. "What about that Moretti you're all over? Make yourself some use and stack cash outta him," Alice, her stepmother, suggested with a cruel twist of her lips.

Amore clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The mention of Alejandro Moretti, the enigmatic man she had come to know amidst the shadows of the mafia world, sent a shiver down her spine. She had kept that part of her life hidden, a fragile sanctuary untouched by the darkness that lurked within her childhood home. Alice's eyes gleamed with malice, recognizing the vulnerability she had unwittingly unearthed. "I've seen the way he looks at you. Use that pretty face of yours to get what you want. That Moretti fellow has more than enough to spare, and you owe it to yourself, Amore."