I step out of the shower, wrap the towel around my body, and notice the room is foggy. I turn on the fan and wait for the fog to dissipate, killing time before I am forced to pay the price of returning to this hellhole.
I sigh, my gaze is drawn to the white little dress with a thin lacy thong that Ace has left on the basin sink for me. I pat myself dry, my legs aching from running, and pull the dress over my torso, wincing as it comes into contact with the cut on my arm. I turn my head to look down at the long, bloody scar on my porcelain skin and blow on it.
I wince, fighting back the tears that are threatening to fall; just because I understand why I'm being forced to wear this dress, which wraps around my body like a second skin and leaves little to the imagination, does not mean I'm thrilled.
I stare back at myself, after wiping the cloudy mirror with my shaking hand, the young carefree woman with so much ambition has vanished.
Allowing tears to well up in my eyes serves as a reminder that I am human and that it is perfectly normal to feel as though you are drowning in a sea of despair.
This is where I belong; I am now their property as a result of my voluntary return; last night was truly the final night of my liberty, and I'm glad I lived it to the fullest, even though the guy turned out to be a full-blown prick.
I'm sitting on the bed, waiting to be summoned, the chandelier lights on despite the fact that the room is bright with the morning sunlight peeking through the blacked-out curtains that disguise the outdoor scenery. A location that I will no longer be able to visit independently.
An indulgence I took for granted.
A clicking sound draws my attention; I watch as two of the large wooden door's three silver locks turn and the door is pushed open. I stand with my head bowed and my wet hair cascading down the sides of my face, watching as Aces expensive dress shoes enter my field of vision.
"Look at me." He makes a rough demand.
I snap my head up, my eyes locked on his poo brown eyes that glare back at me. "You brought chaos to our door." As he squeezes his fingers around my chin, they dig into my skin, causing a burning sensation.
"I'm sorry."
"You will be after today, Tesoro." He smirks and gently releases me.
He begins walking around me, circling me slowly like a predator scouting for prey. I straighten my back, gulping, and when his hand clutches my arm above my elbow, I hiss as a throbbing sensation runs up my arm and I narrow my eyes at him.
"Do you realise the implications of your actions, Tesoro?" He sighs and titters.
(Treasure)
"You make it sound like I've committed a crime," I retort hastily.
"But you did." He laughs. "You murdered a man, Mila." He stands in front of me, his lips drawn into a thin line as he casts a suspicious glance at me. "You killed a man and then came back to me as your saviour while wearing another man's shirt."
I hiss as pain radiates from the side of my face where his hand slapped me; I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, so I raise my hand to my face, touching it in the hopes that the coolness of my fingertips will relieve the burning sensation he's caused.
"Who is he?" He makes a sneering noise as a deep growl vibrates from his chest.
**Silence**
I hiss a second time as he slaps me across the face with the back of his hand, huffing. "Mila, don't make me ask you a third time! Who is he?"
"I'm not sure... Fuucckk!!" He pulls my hair and yanks my head back.
"Tesoro, I didn't quite hear you." He grinds out.
(Treasure)
"I got drunk..." I blurt out through gritted teeth.
He shoves me forward, and I stumble, slamming my hip into the corner of the dressing table.
"It's time to head downstairs; Trent is waiting." He says, running his hand through his ash blonde hair, his eyes clouded with desire as he looks me up and down when I turn to face him once again.
I raise my hands and wrap them around my torso as I begin to feel naked in front of him and shame washes over me like a tsunami crashing into the shorelines, obliterating everything in its path.
I turn around and descend the stairs, leaving the room with trembling limbs. Trent is Aces' leader, the Mafia King who controls eight different cities and 24 districts, as well as moving anything and everything through the dark web, including teenage girls.
He's a sick motherfucker who gets his kicks by humiliating his prey first, and my steps falter as I walk into the office with him at the head of the table and his goons surrounding him.
"Move it, tesoro!" Ace mumbles as he propels me forward and I stumble, trying to regain my footing.
As I approach the large mahogany table that takes up most of the room, Theo steps forward and extends his hand.
I cast a glance at him, then at Trent and Ace, before returning my gaze to his hand.
Trent stands from the table, pushes Theo aside and takes my hand in his, pulling me up against his body and pushing my wet hair to one side. "Mila, get on the table, lie down on your back, and spread your legs, show us that sweet little pussy you so easily gave up last night." He demands in a husky tone, his smoke aroma breath caressing my ears and his hand slipping under my dress, brushing his fingertips along my pussy.
I break free from his embrace and look around the room; there are at least 30 men, all of whom have their hands on their dicks. When I turn to leave, I am met with a gun pointed at my head.
I stare down the barrel of the weapon, my bottom lip trembling as I close my eyes and a single tear slides down my cheek.
"Tesoro, get on the damn table and do what Trent says." Ace growls and cocks the gun, pressing it against my temple.
(Treasure)
I turn to face Trent. "Why?" I dared to ask him, striving to keep my voice firm and strong. "Why am I being forced to spread my legs in front of you bastards?" I cross my arms in a defiant stance.His face contorts into an asymmetrical smirk. "Because it makes my dick ultra-hard and because, well..." He reaches out, playing with the tips of my wet hair between his fingers. "I said so and whatever I say in this house is law."I chew on the inside of my corner top lip, scanning the room, looking at the sick pricks with their hands on their crotches before my gaze lands on his. "Have you considered seeking professional help? You're a fucking perve."He chuckles, "You have no idea," he winks at me, extending his hand for me to take."I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of humiliating me." I hiss as I brush past him and climb onto the table without any help.Wriggling my skirt up to my hips, I shut my eyes and spread my legs wide open for them to
Six weeks later... "Do it, tesoro, (Treasure)" Ace snarls, and I shake my head with dread. "Now!" He expresses quietly as he tries to dissuade the salesman from pressing the large, rounded red button beneath the glass display cabinets, which would alert the police. My rapid breathing causes the visor of my helmet to fog up, obscuring my vision and the extra padding inside impairs my hearing. My gaze flits between the store's entrance door and Ace, who is pointing a gun at the elderly salesman, who has his hands covering his head and his body trembles. I gulp and raise the hammer above my head; a breath later, I let it slip between my fingers, watching as it shatters the glass window on the stand and I turn my head away due to shards of glass flying through the air. I reach inside the display cabinet, picking out the large pieces of glass, trying not to slice my fingers through my gloves and stuff as much jewellery as I can into the pillowcase within o
A few agonising weeks later..... BAAAANNNGG!!!! The furious crackling sound rips through the room, and I watch as the man who stood before me, pleading for mercy on his soul, collapses to the ground. The office doors burst open, men flood in one by one, angry expressions marring their features. When I turn to face them, the gun I'm holding slips from my grasp due to my trembling fingers, landing with an echoing thud on the floorboards. I raise my hands, covering my mouth as I try to muffle my cries of shock, and I turn back around to face the poor man I've just killed. His lifeless blue eyes peering back at me, his face contorted with a pleading expression and blood pooling around his head. My heinous crime is on full display in front of Trent's army of goons. "I...I..I. you." I stammer, my eyes overflowing with tears as I look at Trent. "Indeed, Mila, the gun was loaded, and you have just assassinated th
Five days later... With my anxiety taking over, I am powerless to keep my nails from digging into the wooden armrests of my chair, small splinters embedding themselves deeply beneath my nails as I loudly swallow back the nausea that has been coaxing the back of my throat for several weeks and my focus is solely on the man sitting in front of me. "You are, in fact, pregnant, Ms Starkk." As he examines my file, the doctor makes an announcement. "P..pre.." I stutter, the words refusing to leave my lips as my body begins to burn up. "Yes, pregnant," he says, looking at me through his concerned hazel green eyes as he slides his pair of glasses down the bridge of his nose. "I...I..I. Shiiit..." I mutter, removing my hands from the chair, I grip my purse violently that lays on my knees, turning my knuckles white as I try to figure out what I'm going to do. "With the information you have given us, you're about twelve weeks
Twenty-Four Weeks Pregnant...I look down at my swelling belly, which is about the size of a well-inflated basketball, and I allow my hands to rub across the surface of my abdomen, where I can feel my baby's small movements beneath my fingertips."What's taking them so long?" Ace mutters as he examines his watch, his brows furrowed with impatience as he glares at the door every few seconds."We literally just walked into the room." I scowl at him with annoyance and roll my eyes heavenward; his attitude has really started to get on my nerves lately and the last thing I want is for him to sit here whining like a three-year child.I was practically begging him not to come with me this morning before we left the Mansion, I just really wanted some peace and harmony and after listening to him bitch most of the night about chaperoning me to another appointment had me screaming inwardly as I pictured myself tearing out my hair. The appointments appear to be too time-consuming for him when he
Ace brings the Jeep to a complete standstill when the traffic lights turn red. The roads surrounding us are clear, which is unusual for 11 a.m. on a Thursday morning. "Something is wrong," Ace says, pulling up the handbrake as he opens his glove box and pulls out a gun.'My thoughts precisely,' I think to myself, and my entire body is suddenly overwhelmed by fearThe palms of my hands become sweaty and damp, the deafening sound of my heart pounds loudly in my ears, and my jittery eyes incessantly scan the streets.Seconds later, five black sedans enter my field of vision, approaching us from the front of the Jeep. Their cars' tyres screech to a halt, the doors fly open, and guys dressed entirely in black begin to file out, one by one."Shit! It's the bloodthirsty Irishmen." Ace curses as he cocks his gun and reaches over to my side of the car, popping open the dash's hidden compartment.I watch with wide eyes as sixteen men charge towards us, their faces contorted with wrath as they r
We enter the mansion through the large iron gates, looking exactly how we feel: sore, tired, and in desperate need of a hot shower. My kneecaps are grazed, the soles of my feet are cut up and my clothes look like I've been attacked by a grizzly bear. All while, Ace doesn't have a strand of hair out of place or a spec of dirt staining his clothes. Trent comes into our line of vision as the front door yanks open, his arms crossed against his broad chest, preventing us from entering. "How did you two get so fucked up?" He spits out with a scowl on his face and his words are heavily coated with interest. "We were targeted on our way home from the hospital, which resulted in a shootout with the Irishmen." He draws me in closer to his body, pressing mine flush against his. "And this beauty right here eliminated the majority of them." His voice is brimming with pride. My eyes meet Trent's and I catch him looking me up and down with a smirk on his face and his tongue running along the
One week later... I sit sandwiched between Ace and Jacob at a large rounded table at the 'Le Fleur' restaurant, the aromas of rich food and cigars linger in the atmosphere. Tonight is auction night, a four-monthly gathering of wealthy bastards with sick fetishes for the girls Trent has trafficked into the country intending to sell them to the highest bidder. 60% of the girls are between the ages of 15 and16, and it makes me sick to my stomach to watch them walk onto the stage blindfolded and wearing nothing but sexy lingerie, with a spotlight highlighting their greatest assets and flaws for their audience to see while they are sexually objectified and then purchased like livestock. I take a sip from the icy glass of bottled water; I used to enjoy coming here when Ace first introduced me to this place, but now it's a place I despise and wish to never return for multiple reasons. One of those reasons occurred two years ago when I witnessed my first shooting, met Trent and learned A