(exucse any errors, it has not been edited
Rosaline POV
Finding my way out of the Italian Mafias area range was harder than I had thought it would be. When I had made my choice blind-mindedly, I thought i'd be back home in less than a day or so. And here I was still making my way through the forest that was behind the Estate.
The branches from the trees had found their home in my hair and were continuously cutting into my skin. It didn't bother me much, because I had been beat so many times, that the branches scratching at my skin felt like nothing. Almost.
The cool morning air was piercing my skin. Leaving goose bumps in its wake. Not only did I not plan my leaving smartly, nor did I face the fact that it did get cold. So, here I was with scratches and bruises planted on my skin, wearing nothing but the white gown I had worn before.
The earpiece I once had in my ear, so many weeks ago, was no longer in contact. Not that I cared much about the piece of shit. I honestly didnt. Why would I? Those got damn fools brought Tuhuni to the Italian Mafia to check up on me.
The first thing I vowed to do when I first made my way back to my Mafia House was to put Tuhuni and whoever assigned him to come there, in chains. To whip the hell out of them, until there blood left a stain on the tiled floor. A stain that would always have a meaning somewhere in my mind.
I didn't ponder on my violent fantasy as my thoughts strayed somewhere else. My body feeling something different. I felt it everywhere in my body. An emotion that I had only felt when Miguel would beat me endlessly. I felt Betrayal.
Something at the House was different and I knew it had something to do with my position as the Boss.
I finally came into sight with the French Mafia House. The golden had never looked so polished since my father had been Boss. I had never been let outside long enough to admire the golden decorative piece surrounding the house.
If I were ever to be let outside it would be so that Miguel could have a different view of my beatings. But, I didn't just tell the person whipping me to stop so that I could take a nice view of the exterior of the House.
That was not the only thing that caught my eye. In the center of the lot of a statue the size of Liberty, only instead of her was my uncle. He had a glass of wine in his hand and a typical crown on his balding head. The gold looked clearly out of place, against the darker goldens.
My mouth hangs open as I register what the statue symbolizes. My uncle decided to take it upon himself to crown himself the new boss of the mafia. Which I assume was the result of my unanswerered suspicion.
Walking up to the golden double doors, avoiding the slight limp in my leg, I push them open. Almost immediately the room falls into silence. Ropora sits on the throne with men bowing before him.
A smile falls upon his lips as he registers my presence, "Ha! Looks who has finally decided to join us, for what do we owe this amazing pleasure, sweet cheeks?"
I'm flashed with a memory.
The cold floor pierces my body, as i shove a piece of rye bread into my mouth. Not bothering to use the little strength i have to sit against the metal wall behind me. The bed in the corner of the room, looking out of place.
The distinct smell of blood, metalic, making its way into my nose.
Slowly closing my eyes, i let the pain of my earlier beating take me unconscious.
The ring of keys rattling wakes me with a startle. Before me is a man in all black, a mask covering his mouth. In his hand is a golden sheet, with my fathers name on it in fine black.
"Please, give me mercy," I mule, only causing his eyes to brighten up. He kneels on top of me forcing my panties off of my legs. Closing my eyes, I silently beg for god to help me. I begin to push up against him, only making him laugh. A dark devilish sound.
The sound of his zipper being pulled down, makes me start flinch against him. Grabbing both of my hands he puts it in one of his, while positioning himself. Then he's inside of me.
"Oh, sweet cheeks" He moans, taking my earlobe into his mouth.
"You sick bastard!" I scream, my face most likely turning a dark red.
My own uncle raped me. He raped me and laughed about it. He raped me every night after that. There was nothing i could do. Not with the little strength that i had, after getting whipped.
For the first time, in almost 4 months i felt broken. I felt betrayed. But i sure as hell wouldn't show my weakness to my uncle. Not today, not ever.
So, straightening my back, i say.
"Whether or not it's today, tomorrow. Or 20 years from now. Uncle Ropora, I will be the next person to call you sweet cheeks and i will give you your very own platter on the floor. I will torture the fuck out of you. When i'm finished you'll ask for my forgiveness, you will willingly bow down before me. And worship me like i deserve. You are in fact nothing but a lazy excuse of a man. What americans would call you; a pussy," I say quietly, loud enough for him to hear me.
"Now, guards, please do what Ropora says and you will also be treated like i will treat him. You can beat me day and night, rape me for hours, days, months, but i will get my revenge. Please, keep that in mind," I finish, look at every man surrounding Ropora. Guarding the man that thinks it is okay, to force himself on a weak woman.
"Cowards, is the last thing that i will say to you. You all are some cowards," I scream, grabbing the nearest glass and throwing it at the guard before Ropora. Immediatly, chaos surrounds me. The last thing i see before a wine bottle hits the side of my head is horror in Roporas eyes. Bringing a ghost of a smile on my lips. Then I'm out.
When i finally gain my consciousness i find myself in a dark room. My arms suspended above my head, the thick rope tied tightly against my thin skin. My head beating with pain, where the bottle hit.
"Ahh," I groan as i try to move my legs. The both of them on white rice. The grains digging painfully into the bottoms of my feet. I struggle against the ropes around my wrist, twisting my body.
"Please," I groan.
Pain travels through my body, as a whip comes into contact with my naked back. Moaning i arch my back, deciding not to show my pain.
"Oh, you're not going to cry are you," A deep voice whispers.
"Oh don't worry, Rosaline, we have all night," He says, humor etched tightly in his words. The room illuminates. I almost puke on myself at what's in front of me. Before me is a dead Miguel tied the same way i am, only he's covered in both cuts and blood.
"Ah, you see that is Miguel, right?" The voice, that whipped me, says. His voice echoing around the dark room. Keeping my mouth closed, i shut my eyes as well. Hoping that just maybe he'll leave and think i've passed out.
"ANSWER ME DAMMIT" He roars, causing me to scream a weak yes.
The sound of his boots hitting the ground doesn't end until he's in front of me. Refusing to open my eyes.
"Ah, sweet cheeks, come on open your eyes," he says, stretching the skin beneath my eye.
Sweet cheeks.
Opening my eyes, i stare at the spitting image of Miguel.
HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!
It's been 2 whole months since i last updated, which is rude of me. So please forgive me and yes i do know it may be getting a little confusing and crazy, but hang in there.2 miguels? What?! Oh, no.
~amiraxamira
YOU ARE READING
His Amour
Storie d'amore"Only you, Rosaline, have the power to destroy me" I advise you not to read if you are not of age. There will be mature parts, as well as language. Read at your own risk.
