Back into Darkness

Belle Rose

“Isabella!” My father’s voice echoes through my room, his entrance as abrupt as a bull charging into a china shop.

Caught in the act of changing for bed, I’m standing in my underwear, my arms instinctively crossing over my body as I back away.

I recognize this mood. It’s one I’ve seen too often since my mother’s death.

He strides towards me, his hand reaching out to grip my neck, pushing me against the nearest wall.

His other hand toys with the edge of my panties, pulling them back and letting them snap against my hips.

I can feel his arousal pressing against me, and I squirm in his hold, fear rising at what he might want this time.

But as he senses my panic, he steps back, releasing his grip on my neck.

That’s going to leave a mark. Not that anyone cares. The only people who see me are here to hurt me or use me. But now he stands here, wanting me, wanting my body, for himself.

He’s aroused by his own daughter and the thought makes me sick. He unbuckles his belt and I know what’s coming.

Sometimes he punishes me for no reason, just to see the pain he can inflict. He’s always careful with others, calculating every move.

But with me, he knows he can do whatever he wants. I’m his property. He can sell me, beat me, use me, however he pleases.

The belt strikes my backside hard, and I bite my lip to stifle the cry of pain. Tears threaten to fall, but I hold them back.

This has happened too many times for me to cry. It’s a regular occurrence. I shouldn’t cry. I should be used to it. Nothing is going to change.

I’m his plaything for as long as he lives, and as long as I live. There’s nothing I can do about it. I just have to accept it. Then maybe the tears will stop.

I scream as his belt strikes my pussy, and I crumple to the floor in pain. I try to push through it, but the pain radiates through my body.

His hand grips my jaw, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, he unbuttons his pants and pulls down the zipper.

He releases his erect member, and I stare in disbelief at my father, the man who should be protecting me.

“Suck me off,” he commands, his voice as cold as ice. His daughter, kneeling before him, knowing she has to obey.

I take him in my mouth and his groan fills the room…

***

I bolt upright, panting, my heart pounding. It was just a nightmare. Or rather, a memory. A terrible memory.

My father used me to secure his business deals. He climbed the ranks, using my body as a stepping stone. He had an army of men behind him, and he was essentially a mob boss.

From protection rackets to prostitution to drug trafficking to gambling, he was in charge of it all. He was the king, but I was no princess. I was just a tool.

He never let his men touch me, though they tried. He sold my body to powerful men, who he later had killed.

I’m sweating, my chest tight as I try to calm myself down from the horrifying memory. I take a cold shower, letting the water wash away the heat.

I’m drowning again, I can feel it.

I change into my uniform, one of many identical ones in the wardrobe. Once I’ve composed myself, I open the door to find Ranger looking concerned.

But he just starts walking, indicating that I should follow.

“I know the way to the kitchens,” I mumble.

“I know.” His voice is flat, emotionless.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurt out, feeling oddly at ease around him.

“You’re different from the other girls here. I’ve never seen you cry,” he says, his voice still monotone.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I’ve heard you having nightmares, whimpering in your sleep. But you still don’t cry. What do you dream about?” he asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“I don’t remember,” I lie, walking on.

“Liar,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s good to have secrets. It keeps you interesting. He likes interesting.”

“Who?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer. I assume he’s talking about Enzo. I’m wearing blue, his men were told not to touch me, he even made me say that I’m his. What does he want from me? He hasn’t touched me yet, but it’s probably only a matter of time. He just wants to use me, like everyone else. “Why am I wearing blue?”

“To protect you.”

“From what?” I ask.

“Everything,” he replies.

As we enter the kitchen, he nods to Marissa and his hand brushes against mine before he leaves.

Someone bumps into me from behind, and I turn to see the tall girl from before, sneering at me as she holds a laundry basket.

“Stick with Sofia,” Marissa advises, raising her eyebrows. I nod and hurry over to Sofia, who’s chopping onions.

“Who is she?” I ask Sofia, nodding towards the girl.

“Giovanna. She goes by Gia. She used to sleep with the boss, but he’s lost interest in her,” she explains, her eyes watering from the onions.

“Who was the guy you were with yesterday?”

“Luca. He’s the boss’ brother. The second oldest. I’d warn you about his other brothers, Leo and Rafael, but, well, you’re... you know,” she trails off, continuing to chop.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the boss’s girl. His crew wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you,” she explains.

“Why? Why am I his?”

“He’s taken a liking to you,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He kidnaps the ones he likes, locks me in some dark room, turns me into his plaything. He likes me like a toy, like something he can use and discard. Men like him are all cut from the same cloth—power-hungry, entitled, they can have anything they want. And they never change. People don’t change. “Gia, though, she’s really into him.”

“She’s into a ruthless mafia boss?”

“I know, it’s weird. He just used her anyway. Men like him and Luca, they don’t do relationships, or love, unless it’s a marriage of convenience. Even then, love isn’t part of the equation.”

“Luca? He treats you like that too?” She gives a humorless laugh and looks up at me.

“All three of them do. And the rest of the crew. The boss picks certain girls that only he can touch.”

“So that’s me? You said girls?”

“Yeah, he usually has a few but gets bored and moves on.”

“Moves on?” I ask, my eyes wide.

“He doesn’t kill them. He just lets them go, or lets the other guys have them,” Gia says, joining me in the chopping. This guy is ruthless. He’s the boss. His word is law. “Just a heads up. Once he’s done playing with you, he’ll toss you aside. And judging by the looks of you, you’re not that interesting now. He’ll get bored fast,” she sneers, flashing me a fake smile and rolling her eyes. “He’s really good in bed, though.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I retort. I nick my finger on the knife and quickly rinse it under water. After wrapping it in a paper towel, I go back to chopping.

“You wouldn’t know what?” Sofia asks, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“If he’s good in bed,” I reply.

Gia whirls around to face me, her knife slamming down on the table in surprise. “He hasn’t fucked you yet?”

“No,” I answer.

“Belle,” Ranger calls out, rushing into the kitchen. The other girls fall silent, their eyes glued to their feet. He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the knife and around the counter.

“What’s going on?” Marissa asks him, her face twisted into a scowl. “She needs to help.”

“Boss wants her,” he replies. And the boss is the boss. His word is law. If he wants me to go to him, everyone here will make it happen. Marissa steps aside and I let Ranger guide me out. He squeezes my hand and leads me down the hall.

“This isn’t the way to his office?” I ask, confused by his hurried pace.

“I know.”

“Then where are we going?”

“You’re getting out. I’m getting you out of here.”