Chapter 48: Just Another Slave

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-Your P.O.V-

"I really am sorry y/n. Just...let me try and work on our trust,okay" Riley cried.

I didn't respond, only sat there watching his eyes. They were tear filled, regretful, and sad. It shocked me. Riley pulled me into a long hug, burying his head into the crook of my shoulder.

It made me stiffen, remembering about my cuts.

I had never comforted a man in my life before. He looked vulnerable and completely lost. This was not the egotistical gang leader I was used to.

The hardest thing for me to do was not pull away. I didn't want a broken wrist and I didn't want to make things worse. If I acted like I liked it, I might get on his good side, and freedoms were earned with that, like out of town trips, and opportunities to escape.

"I can't handle this" he whispered.

"What" I was literally so confused. Why was he breaking down and telling me, his so called "simple slave" about his stresses and worries in life.

"My cousin. He's terrible, and he's always been the one with money, power, and looks, or so he claims. That's why I hate it when he comes. It seems like I never get a real answer or comment from him. Having him as a guest is as stressful as it gets."

I stood, kind of in shock. Somebody more powerful and worse than Riley, I wasn't sure existed, but then, I hadn't met every gang leader out there. I could be dead in the hands of another gang.

"It's okay",I finally got out,"I may not forgive you, but I'm here in case you need to tell me anything like this."

-5 days later-

Riley has not told me anything about his cousin so far except that he's coming for dinner in three days, and I was not eagerly waiting. It was obvious his cousin was coming for a reason, but nobody was certain what it was.

To my displeasure, he hadn't talked to me since 4 nights earlier where he had confessed his stress. Maze everyday had given me winks as he passed me by. Riley also had given me a room within the servants quarters for myself along with the forced to where slutty maid dress again.

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