"I won't die poor and powerless!" she declared, her voice trembling with determination.
"Then sell your soul to me," he whispered, his lips curling into a sinister smirk, eyes gleaming as he watched the desperation flicker in her gaze.
In a world wh...
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chapter one
||Ma Bella ||
January, 2016
Morning isn't something I look forward to. It exposes too much my tears, my vulnerability. I long for the night, the comforting darkness. Only in the dark can I find peace, a shield that wraps around me like wings. In the silence of night, I can escape the sounds of my father arguing with my mother, the lectures from my sisters telling me how grateful I should be, and the endless voice in my head whispering, die, die, die.
I want to scream at them, to make them realize they should be thanking me for surviving these sixteen years. But being the youngest, I'm not allowed to raise my voice or point out their mistakes. To do so would be disrespectful, and I'm forbidden from disrespecting them. Sixteen years, and not once can I say I've been truly happy.
All I want is for someone to hold me, to give me the power to escape this. Only money and power can fix me, can save me. I cry myself to sleep at night, hoping someone will hear, someone will care. But all I see are the peaceful, untroubled faces around me, sleeping soundly. Do they feel no pain? No heartbreak? Why is it only me who carries this weight in the family?
My heart feels so heavy. I remember taking my medicine, hoping it will help. Maybe sleep will come with the morning light. I have to stop crying. Will my eyes be puffy? Will Mother notice? She thinks I'm the happy one. I can't let her see my red, tear-streaked face. It would only make her sad.
After all, we're supposed to be a happy family.
Someone pov
3 April , 2024
A man stepped into the darkened room, the faint sound of his polished shoes breaking the silence. He shrugged off his tuxedo, hanging it neatly in the closet before making his way to the balcony. The unmistakable scent of Sobranie cigarettes hung thick in the air. She's been smoking more lately, he thought. As he stepped outside, the wind caught her long, dark hair, sending it fluttering in the night. She stood, back to him, staring at the sky, her black nightwear clinging to her figure, making her look both alluring and distant.
He sighed softly and joined her, standing by her side.
She took one last drag, exhaling the smoke into the cool night air, then crushed the cigarette under her heel. Turning to face him, her brown eyes met his—hypnotizing, unreadable. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips as his long fingers gently traced her jawline. His expression remained impassive, but she could sense the frustration radiating from him. Finally, she spoke, her voice smooth and manipulative, dripping with sweetness.
