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Penelope's p.o.v:

I woke up to a dark room, I could tell it was old by the texture of the floor being rusty. I couldn't see anything because I had a blindfold on. I had an agonizingly painful headache due to having a gun hit on my head by that man.

I gasped, "that man!!", where the hell am i? I asked myself in my head. "It's okay babygirl, let me help you", he said as I felt him walk closer to me.

"NO DONT YOU DARE TOUCH ME", I screamed backing away not really sure where I was going. I felt something brush up against my back. I screamed taking my blindfold off. I turned around and realized that me and that random guy weren't the only two in this room. There was another guy with blue eyes and blonde hair staring down at me smirking with fascination.

"Good job Harry, I didn't expect you to actually pull it off, we were all worried that you wouldn't make it kidnapping Jay Styles's daughter.", the guy with the blue eyes told Harry now knowing the name of my kidnapper. I've heard that name before but where is the question?

Harry continued to walk towards me, once he reached towards me, he pulled me up swiftly and harshly said "Who the fuck are you screaming at Penelope?". I hated the way he said my name, it reminded me of how my father would say it when I was in trouble with him and that would end up with me smacked in the face or in his office reorganizing his shelves as a punishment even though he had maids for that.

I flinched as he held his hand in the air but soon realized he was just waving the other guy that was also in the room with us to come over to him. He noticed that I flinched and smirked knowing that he had that power over me but little did he know that it's an automatic reaction that I have to live with for the rest of my life because of my abusive father.
He hurts everyone that loves him. He beats my mom, acting like I don't hear the arguing and my mothers screams at night and my fathers yells for her to "shut the fuck up or it will be worse!!"

I snap out of it and realized that I was with the blue eyed guy now and he was taking me upstairs I think. I was terrified to speak to him so I decided not to question things and just kept quiet. He didn't pull as hard as Harry does but he still kept a grip Incase I tried to runaway. But I could tell he was nicer by the way he kept looking back and giving me a small soft smile.

I finally got the courage to ask him where he was taking me, "excuse me?" My voice was little, "where are you taking me sir?". He did not say anything and just kept walking speeding up the pace trying to get me there as soon as possible as I struggle to keep up with his pace as we were on the last step and in a long hallway with 4 doors. "Sir, I said excuse m-," he cut me off.

"For Christ sake, shut up we're here", he answered. He took out a key from his pocket and opened the door. I was scared to walk inside but the man grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. It was a room with cream colored walls with a queen sized bed, with a vanity, and a mirror. There was a restroom and I'm assuming attached in the restroom was a closet because there wasn't one inside the room. There wasn't any windows. Looks like I'm out of luck.

"My name is Niall, Harry sent me up here to show you your room that you will be living in until further notice and if you ever and I mean ever try to escape, you don't want to imagine what Harry would do to you babygirl." he told me with a wink.

I looked at him with tears surrounding my eyes. "Please help me, I want to go home." I told him. I really didn't want to go home but I sure didn't want to be here. "But the show hasn't even started yet darling." He made a pity face obviously fake as soon as he smirked. "We want your father dead Penelope, and his whole mafia, and Harry will do anything for that to happen." That was the last think he said before he told me to sit on the bed and don't move until Harry comes up here.

I was terrified to move, I was living in the house with a man who wants my father dead. What was so bad that my father has done that Harry wanted him dead.

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