𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧.
ꙬꙬꙬꙬ
All that Yara Morello was told all her life was that she was the shame of the family. She was a mistake that was never supposed to happen, a disgrace to be shunned and cast...
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My nightmares were evolving.
Most nights, it was the same dark terror that had haunted me since I turned eighteen, an endless loop of fear that kept me trapped in the past. But lately, the nightmares had shifted, morphed into something different, something darker. Now, some nights, I dreamed of Emilio. He'd take me with a savage intensity, owning every inch of my body, his dark eyes glaring down at me, fierce and unyielding.
Those dreams were different, leaving a different kind of mark on me. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, my heart racing, my body alive with a confusing blend of fear and desire. His touch in those dreams was both a punishment and a plea, a desperate need that left me breathless and trembling.
Sometimes, I'd wake up with a gasp, the sheets twisted around my legs, damp with sweat, and sometimes more. Those nights, I could feel the wetness between my thighs, the undeniable evidence of how his presence, even in my dreams, could unravel me completely. It terrified me, how much I craved his touch, even in the darkest corners of my mind. How he could make me feel alive and powerless all at once.
A week ago, Emilio revealed a side of himself that made me question my own sanity—a darkness that was as seductive as it was terrifying. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, the slow-healing cut on my nipple was always there, a brutal reminder of just how real it all was. Not some fever dream or twisted fantasy, but cold, hard reality etched into my skin.
It's a sickness, this thing I feel. This dark, consuming need that drives me to the edge of hysteria. I try to convince myself that it's just physical, that I'm drawn to him because he's attractive, because he makes me feel things I've never felt before. But deep down, I know it's more than that.
Maybe I wanted him to take me the way he did in my dreams—rough, relentless, with no room for mercy. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted more than that. I wanted him to own me, to push me to my limits and then drag me beyond them.
Maybe I am the one who's insane.
"Hello? Earth to Yara." Jolina's perfectly manicured fingers snapped in front of my face, jolting me back to reality.
I took a deep breath, my mind clawing its way out of the fog that had settled over me. Jolina's face was inches from mine, her eyes a mix of concern and curiosity.
Emilio had taken away my freedom, locking me in that house like I was some kind of prisoner. Jolina, in her infinite wisdom, had offered to "babysit" me. She probably thought it would help, but I couldn't stand another second in that place. So, she brought me to the mafia's base after I made her swear on her overpriced handbag collection that Emilio wouldn't be there.
She had convinced me with the promise that the mafia base had faster WiFi and that she could eat anything she wanted from the kitchen for free. I had to admit, the free food was a tempting offer, and being cooped up in that house was driving me crazy.
