Black swan

Chapter 11

" I almost forgot, you wanted nothing to do with the secrets, love." he mumbled. Confusion bubbled and spewed through me.

 I sighed.

" What do you mean by princess of the underworld?" I demanded. 

" You, my dear, are the princess, or daughter, of the leader. The leader of the biggest, criminal, mafia group." 

" My father is not a villain." 

" Neither is he a hero." 

" C'mon dear, let me tell you about yourself. About you family. About your father." He smiled, his dimple was evident. 

He let his hand out, offering to guide me into a world I never knew existed. With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, I tentatively placed my hand in his, silently urging him to unravel the mysteries of my past.

As we walked through the dimly lit alleyways of the city, he began to paint a picture of my lineage. "Your father," he began, his voice low and somber, "is a man of power and influence. He commands respect and fear in equal measure."

I listened intently, the pieces of my identity slowly falling into place like a jigsaw puzzle. "But why keep this a secret from me?" I asked, the frustration evident in my voice.

"Your father wanted to protect you," he explained, his eyes reflecting the flickering lights of the city. "He knew that once you were aware of your heritage, there would be no turning back. You'd be sucked into a world of danger and deception."

I pondered his words, trying to reconcile the image of my father as a protector with that of a criminal mastermind. "What about my mother?" I inquired, suddenly realizing her absence from the narrative.

He hesitated, a shadow passing over his face. "Your mother was... complicated," he replied carefully. "She loved your father fiercely, but she couldn't bear the weight of his world. She chose to leave, to protect you from the darkness that consumed him."

A pang of sorrow pierced my heart as I grappled with the complexity of my family history. "And now?" I whispered, afraid of what the answer might entail.

"Now," he said, his grip tightening on my hand, " Now you're with me. You stay with me. You have to fight your father. You have no choice, love."

I gazed into his eyes, searching for guidance amidst the chaos of my emotions. In that moment, I realized that the true power lay not in my bloodline, but in the choices I made moving forward.

"You're in my employ now, Nessa. There are matters that require your attention." He led me into a room, flanked by two women with long, dark hair. They accompanied us inside, revealing an array of assorted clothing. "We're preparing for a battle. You will be fighting," he declared.

I halted him abruptly. "No! I want to go back! I don't believe any of this! You—you're deceiving me! Take me home!" I pleaded, my desperation evident in my voice.

The weight of his words crashed down on me like a tidal wave, leaving me gasping for air. I couldn't comprehend the reality he was thrusting upon me. My mind raced, desperately searching for an escape from this nightmare.

But as I looked around the room, surrounded by strangers who claimed to be allies, I knew there was no turning back. Panic clawed at my throat as I struggled to make sense of it all. "I can't do this," I whispered, my voice trembling with fear and disbelief.

His expression softened, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. "Nessa, I know this is a lot to take in," he said gently, stepping closer to me. "But you have a strength within you that you've yet to discover. You can't run from your destiny, but you can choose how to face it."

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't want this," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want any of it."

He reached out to me, his touch ached me with anger. He took me away from my almost perfect life, a life I never got to finish. Just to take me in, in to face this 'reality' A reality I didn't want. "I promise you, Nessa, you won't be alone in this," he assured me. "We'll train you, protect you, guide you every step of the way."

But his words were rubbish to me. How did he expect me to trust him? Trust him after he kidnapped me, took me away, hurt me? How did he expect me to trust him? 

"Absolutely not," I insisted, my voice firm with defiance. "How could you expect me to trust you so easily? You've abducted me, torn me away from my nearly perfect life, all to thrust me into this chaos? To confront my father? Never! He abandoned us years ago. He's dead to me, and I want no part of your world. The only thing I desire is to see you gone, buried deep beneath the earth's surface. Take me back home."

"Welcome home," he chuckled darkly, his tone dripping with sinister amusement, as if my protests were nothing but entertainment to him.

Tears streamed down my frustrated face, mixing with the overwhelming sense of helplessness. "This is not my home!" I screamed, my voice raw with emotion. "Let me go!" My heart pounded in my chest as the two women reached for their guns, sending shock coursing through me. The man's cold gaze met mine, and with a silent command, they retreated from the room, leaving me alone with him.

"You. Have. No. Choice. No. Say. No. Input," he stated matter-of-factly, his words like a chilling verdict. "Should I spell that out for you to understand?" Anger surged within me, a fiery rebellion against his control. Without a second thought, I clenched my fists and delivered a powerful blow to his perfect face. He recoiled in pain, and in that fleeting moment of vulnerability, I seized my chance to escape.

I darted out of the room, his enraged shouts echoing behind me. "Code red!" he bellowed, setting off a chain reaction of chaos within the asylum. The lights flashed crimson, the blaring siren adding to the pandemonium. I sprinted through the corridors, my lungs burning with exertion, every fiber of my being focused on one goal: freedom.

The doors began to seal shut, a grim reminder of the prison closing in around me. Guards and accomplices pursued me, their shouts blending with the cacophony of gunshots ringing out in the air. Dodging bullets and obstacles, I pushed my body to its limits, desperate to reclaim the life that had been stolen from me.

Finally, I saw it—the exit, tantalizingly close, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. I sprinted towards it, my muscles screaming in protest, each step bringing me closer to salvation. But as I reached out to grasp the freedom within my reach, the door began to close, the gap narrowing with each passing second.

A gunshot pierced the air, narrowly missing me as I dove forward. With a gut-wrenching finality, the door slammed shut, sealing me inside the asylum once more. Defeat washed over me like a suffocating tide, the weight of my failed escape crushing my spirit. 

The voice behind me sent shivers down my spine, and I trembled in fear as I slowly raised my hands, tears streaming down my face. "Please... let me go," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Not my choice, lovely," came the chilling response, devoid of any compassion or remorse. With that, I was whisked away, my resistance futile against the overwhelming force that held me captive.

Once again, I found myself confined to the same room, its sterile white walls closing in on me like suffocating tendrils. The bed with its pristine sheets mocked me, a stark contrast to the chaos and despair raging within me. The floor, once rusted and worn, seemed to leech the vitality from my very soul, leaving me feeling drained and hollow.

I pressed myself against the cold walls, desperate for some semblance of comfort in this barren place that threatened to consume me whole. But no matter how hard I tried to escape, I remained trapped within the confines of my own mind, tormented by the emptiness that surrounded me.