10

Amara’s POV

I stepped out of the shower, shivering as I wrapped a towel around my damp skin.

It was already 9:00 PM. I moved through the room, closing the windows and preparing for bed, when a sudden, heavy knock thudded against the door.

"Who the hell is it?" I yelled.

"It’s your damn boyfriend," I heard Tom’s voice growl from the hallway.

I sighed and pulled the door open. He didn't even wait for me to close it behind him before he grabbed me, hoisting me into his arms. He kissed me hungrily, his hands roaming over me before I could even get a word out.

He threw me onto the couch and ripped the towel away. I could see the desperate throb in his trousers as he tore his shirt off and began to squeeze my breasts.

"Tom, stop! We can’t do this now," I managed to gasp. He pulled back, looking at me with narrow, frustrated eyes.

"What? Why not?"

"I’m on my period," I said, shifting my legs so he could see.

He hissed through his teeth and reached for his belt. "I can just use protection."

"No. Impossible. I told you, I’m never doing that while I'm on my period. I'm sorry."

"Fine," he muttered, hovering over me.

"I’ll settle for your boobs and your mouth, then."

He didn't wait for an answer, and I didn't give him one. He was my boyfriend, my everything; I loved him too much to say no.

Forty minutes later, we were both lying back, breathing hard. My skin felt raw from his touch.

"Are you satisfied now?" I asked, glancing at him.

"Not entirely, but at least the ache is gone," he sighed. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before adding, "Hey, I saw your friend Diana today. Is she now mad?"

I sat bolt upright. "What do you mean, 'mad'?"

"I saw her running down the road. No shoes, hair like a bird's nest, wearing nothing but a hospital gown."

My heart hammered against my ribs. Alessandro’s men had taken her. I assumed she’d be safe—there was always a part of me that thought Alessandro had a soft spot for her.

"Are you sure it was her?" I pressed.

"I know what she looks like, Amara. It was her."

"Oh my God... I just hope her 'condition' hasn't finally driven her over the edge."

"What condition?" Tom asked, his curiosity piqued.

I hesitated. Should I tell him? He has warned me to stop watching p**n.

"I'm talking to you, Amara."

"Okay, okay! There's was a day we were watching p**n together with her? It happened then." I lied, making it sound like an old story so he wouldn't get angry.

"We were watching, and the moment the man unzipped his trousers, Diana started choking. She started slamming her head against the wall, convulsing... spitting. It was a full seizure."

I looked at Tom’s shocked face. "It seems like a trigger. It only happens when she sees... well, a man's cock. I think it’s trauma from her past."

"What happened to her?"

"I can't tell you that, Tom. She told me in secret, and I promised I’d never repeat it."

"Shut up. I'm your boyfriend, Amara."

"I wouldn't tell you even if you were my husband," I snapped.

"Amara, Amara, Amara—" He started to lecture me, but we both froze as a voice shrieked from outside.

“Ayla! Ayla!”

"Diana?" I scrambled to stand up, but Tom grabbed my arm, pulling me back down.

"You’re naked, and I told you, she's gone crazy."

"I’m not crazy, Tom," Diana rasped. She was standing in the doorway, looking like a ghost. Her eyes were sunken and desperate. "Amara... where is Ayla?"

"Ayla? She’s not here."

Diana collapsed onto the floor, a broken sob escaping her. I tried to go to her, but Tom’s grip on my hand tightened. He gave me a warning look, telling me to stay put.

"I thought maybe you’d hidden her," Diana wept.

"The day you was captured, I saw her entering the hotel, shouting your name. I tried to follow her, but she vanished. I asked everyone... no one saw a child. It’s like she disappeared into thin air."

I looked at her with pity. "Girl, what happened? Didn't you just let Alessandro have his way? You’d be in a much better position right now if you had."

"Why would I do that?" Diana spat. "I don't want anything to do with sex. Not ever. That’s why I never married."

I knew the truth—men didn't want to marry Diana; they just wanted to use her, and she refused to be a toy.

"But Alessandro is gorgeous, Diana. Hot, powerful... and I’m sure he’s huge down there."

Tom pinched my nipple hard. "Ouch! Tom!"

"Then why don't you go let him fuck you?" Diana said bitterly.

"Watch your tongue, Diana!" Tom barked.

"Tell your girlfriend to watch hers first!"

The two of them started shouting, their old rivalry flaring up instantly.

"Enough!" I yelled. They both went quiet.

I turned back to Diana. "Did you ask Alessandro if he took Ayla?"

Diana froze. "What do you mean?"

"There was a time," I whispered. "He once targeted a student who was new to the country. He wanted her, but she wouldn't cooperate. He didn't force her—he just killed her. But then he went to another woman's room... a lady with a nine-year-old child."

"He had his men take the child away, and then he slept with the mother."

"You mean he raped her," Tom interjected bitterly.

"I don't think so," I argued. "In this city, everyone knows: Alessandro is cruel, but he doesn't rape. He’d rather kill you than force you. He wants them to want him."

"And how do you know so much?" Tom asked suspiciously.

"Because I used to be his cook! I know his habits. He doesn't touch the staff, and he doesn't take what isn't offered."

"I still call that rape," Tom muttered.

"Call it what you want, but the women usually change their minds the second they see him naked," I said. Diana looked lost in thought, her face pale. "But there are two things I found weird while I worked there."

"What?" Diana asked.

"All those ladies who go missing? I think they're in that house, but I searched every corner and couldn't find them. It's like they're hidden in the walls. And the second thing... as his cook, I only made him heavy meals—meat, eggs, fries—at midnight everyday. But during the day, from 7:00 AM to 11:00 PM? All he consumes is milk. Bottles and bottles of it. Alex brings it to me to serve him."

"Isn't that strange?" I looked at Tom.

"Does that mean he killed Ayla?" Diana whispered, her voice trembling.

"No. He doesn't kill kids. He takes them to 'better places.' That other woman's child? He put him in an expensive school and bought him everything he wanted."

Before I could finish the sentence, Diana bolted out of the room.

"Diana! Wait! Where are you going?"

She didn't answer. She just ran back into the night.