Forbidden Lover

Natalia’s POV:

My heart thumped rapidly against my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I shoved a hoodie into my duffel bag. Sweat beaded on my forehead with each fast movement I made. I needed to escape. It was now or never. 

BANG!!

My heart skipped a beat as a shiver ran down my spine at the sound of the living room door being slammed. I knew what the sound was, it was HIM again. No doubt already drunk even though the day was just starting. 

Quickly, I  pushed my little sister, Ava, into the closet.  “Don’t come out until I come to get you, okay?” 

She nodded, her big brown eyes glistened with tears as the fear on her face mirrored mine. 

I placed a kiss on her forehead. “I won't let him hurt you. I promise.” 

Liar, you can't even protect yourself.  The voice in my head mocked and I squashed it, shutting the closet door, and headed for the living room as my heart raced with a familiar dread. 

He wasn't supposed to be home, he was usually off at some bar drinking until evening. So I planned my escape properly, it had to be during the day, and I’ve been planning this for years. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as I approached the living room. If he found out what I was up to… I’d be dead meat. 

My stomach churned at the memories of dad beating me up simply because he felt like it.  When I was much younger, he’d lock me in the closet and starve me for days… If I cried while he beat me up he'd say, “It doesn't even hurt! It only hurts because you think it does, you've always been an annoying child.”

One time, he broke my arm because I ‘cried’  after he had starved me for three days. I've lived in nothing but pain since I was old enough to walk. My skin was littered with bruises and scars from over the years. 

Several times, I've tried to escape but I knew I’d end up in foster care. And then, Ava came along.  My monster of a father got a teenager pregnant and the girl had dumped the baby with him. 

I’d started rebelling for Ava’s sake, he could use me as his punching bag all he wanted as long as he didn't go near her. I had been waiting for the right time to escape with Ava. I had just turned eighteen and it was my high school graduation ceremony today. I knew today was the right time to escape. Or so I thought, fate was hardly ever on my side, I always felt like I was cursed…

I moved cautiously into the living room, expecting another round of beating like last night when he used his special belt on my back, but my fear quickly morphed into terror and confusion when I got to the living room. 

The man before me looked battered beyond recognition. “Dad,” I gasped. 

My dad was on his knees. Blood oozed from his temple, his lips, and his nose—which seemed broken. He seemed to be in pain ‘cause he was clutching at his middle.

But he wasn't alone. Three men stood over him and one near the doorway they had just broken into. But it was the man seated in the armchair that caught attention and not in a good way. 

He was handsome, no doubt. I don't think I've ever seen a man as handsome as he was. But he seemed… dangerous. His aura gave off immense power like he was in control of everyone else. It was clear he was in charge of the other men and they were probably his guards. 

Dad groaned in pain and I tried to rush to his aid but the men glared at me, causing me to flinch.

“What is going on here?” I asked when I finally found my voice. “Look, if my dad owes you… I'd hate to break it to you, but we don't have any money,” I said, hoping my voice was firm and not shaky like I felt on the inside. 

The leader’s eyes drifted over my face and down my body as if I were a product he was considering purchasing. Tingles broke out along my skin wherever he looked, but I couldn't tell if it was from fear or…

“She’s perfect. She’ll do.”

His accent was thick with an unmistakable Italian accent and my heart thumped in my chest. These men weren't from here. 

Wait… She’ll do? 

Unease settled in my gut as I turned to dad who kept groaning in pain. “What is he talking about, dad?” My tone was exasperated. The day had just started, I was already late and I needed to be in school for my graduation ceremony. 

My father lifted his eyes to mine, they were filled with fear. “I’m sorry…” he said. 

I felt like I was in another world. Dad has never apologized to me, not when he starved me, beat me, or forced me to pay his debts, and certainly not when he'd broken my arm. 

Dread pooled in my stomach. “Why…why are you sorry dad?”

“I—” Dad started. 

“Enough!” The man said in a low growl, cutting dad off. “Get your things ready, we leave for Sicily tonight, the wedding is in four days.”

Sicily? As in Italy? And wait…

“A wedding?!” I yelled before I could stop myself. “Who the hell is getting married?”

 “Go and get your things ready, you have a few hours to get whatever it is you need.”

“No,” I shook my head, suddenly feeling brave. “Is this some sort of sick joke? You broke into my house and now you're demanding I leave with you? I’m calling the cops.” 

Why hadn't I thought to call them sooner? Well, never too late. I turned to get my phone when I heard a strangled gasp from dad.

When I looked, the man was standing now. With a gun pointed at dad’s forehead.

My eyes drifted to the man—the devil, who had my dad’s life at his mercy. His grey-blue eyes were cold and hard.

“You move an inch and I put a nice hole through this bastard’s skull.”