𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑴 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑬 | 𝐎𝐂 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐈

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I nervously scanned the length of the school hallway, anxious about the possibility of encountering Luciano Moriel. The son of the principal and nephew of a billionaire, Luciano and his family were notorious for their arrogance and disdain for anyone they deemed beneath them—like me.

As I turned around, the echo of footsteps grew louder behind me, sending my heart racing. My breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts as I tried to suppress any sound. With each step, I focused on maintaining my composure, though my anxiety was palpable. Suddenly, I felt a firm, almost predatory grip on my shoulder. The unmistakable chill of silver rings pressed against my skin confirmed it was Luciano, his presence as oppressive as his reputation.

"Where do you think you're going, doll?" he murmured into my ear, his breath hot and unsettling against my skin. I shivered involuntarily as he pressed his hand over my mouth, the roughness of his grip a stark contrast to the softness of his words. My eyes stung with tears, the fear making them well up despite my efforts to stay composed. He clicked his tongue, an exaggerated sound meant to mimic sympathy, and leaned closer. His lips curled into a mock pout, the feigned concern evident in his voice. "Oh, babydoll, don't cry," he cooed, the insincerity clear as he continued to hold me in place, his expression a carefully crafted facade of empathy.

He shoved me roughly into a cramped closet, the narrow space pressing in on me as I stumbled. With a sharp click, he locked the door behind him, the key disappearing into his back pocket. The only light came from a dim, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling, its frail glow casting long, jittery shadows that danced across the walls as his tall frame bumped into it.
I pressed myself against the cold, uneven stone wall, its chill seeping through my clothes and making my skin prickle. My mouth felt dry, the fear and panic tightening my throat. Warm tears began to stream down my cheeks, each drop a painful reminder of my helplessness.
His irritation grew palpable. "Fuck! Stop crying!" he snapped, his voice echoing harshly in the confined space. He slammed his fist into the stone wall with a loud thud that reverberated through the small room. The sound made me flinch, my body jerking in response. I quickly scrubbed at my tears with shaking hands, trying to stifle the sobs that were escaping despite my efforts to remain silent.
"sorry..." I stuttered out, even in the darkness I saw he was bleeding, "are you bleeding?" I asked worriedly. He just smirked and reached behind into his back pocket pulling out a butterfly knife, I gasped trying to back up more but the stone wall scraped against my back. "I'm going to make you mine," he said, his voice low and husky. He brought the knife to my shirt, ripping it to Shreds. I covered my mouth to hide the sound of my shock, he threw the scraps of the shirt to the side, his breathing suddenly got rougher and deeper. He whispered a curse under his breath before taking the butterfly knife and lowered it to my stomach. I shut my eyes, scared of what he was going to do. "Please no" I pleaded, scared of the pain. He started carving something into my skin, his hand started shaking then he stopped and slapped my cheek, which was a way of telling me to open my eyes. I opened them, my hand shaking as I sat myself up, looking down at my stomach seeing the red blood bleeding down my lower belly. In bold letters

'𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬' written in bold letters over my stomach. I looked up at him but I didn't see any pain or discomfort, just proudness written all over his face. "Why" I whimpered out, he just chuckled before taking off his hoodie and throwing it over my almost bare form. "Put this on" he demanded, I whimpered as I got up to put the hoodie on my stomach aching, he watched me as I struggled to put it over my stomach. He quickly pulled it down his fingers grazing over my fresh cuts, he stood up and watched me struggle to get up, my hand grabbed onto a nearby table, I got up finally. Luciano towering over me I couldn't fully see his face as the dim light that shadowed his face, the only thing visible was his lips, which he licked and then bite the inside of.

"Can I go now?" My voice trembled with a mixture of exhaustion and desperation as I crossed my arms tightly against my chest. He pulled the key from his back pocket with a deliberate, slow movement, his fingers lingering on the metal as he turned to unlock the closet door. The soft click of the lock being undone felt like a weight lifting from my shoulders.

I let out a deep sigh of relief as I stepped past him and emerged from the closet, the cramped space having felt like a prison for far too long. As I walked away, I glanced down at the hoodie he had given me. It hung heavily from my shoulders, its fabric a little too large but comforting. The scent of his cologne, a mix of musk and cedar, clung to the garment, intensifying with each breath I took. It was both soothing and disconcerting, a reminder of his presence even as I made my way to my class.