I'm a Prostitute, Not a Substitute

HAZEL

I don’t want to go downstairs....

Especially not to have dinner with my captor.

Because that’s what he is, isn’t he? My captor. A man who took me one night brought me to this house and never let me leave. He locked me in and threw away the keys.

But I don’t have a choice. I never do. Not here.

So I go. I walk down the staircase, my feet brushing against the cold marble. The halls are too quiet, the kind of quiet that listens. His men stand like shadows, watching me. The maids pretend to be busy themselves, but I feel their eyes too, judging, whispering.

I am just another foolish girl who thought she could play with fire and not get burned.

But that's not who I am.That's not who I want to be. I don't want to this, any of this....

You see, when I came into this house, it wasn’t by choice. I had a life. I had a boyfriend. Someone I loved. Someone who loved me back. I had plans, laughter, friends, and a future. And then my captor decided to take all that away.

He took me. Brought me here. Choose a room as my new cell and left me to rot inside this mansion, dressed up like paradise.

There are rules here, too. Rules that make no sense except to remind me who’s in charge. One of them: I have to have dinner with him every night.

I don’t even know why.

We don’t talk.

He doesn’t answer my questions.

Half the time, I’m not sure he even hears me.

I have no idea what Axel Morelli wants from me....

By the time I reach the dining room, my heart is already pounding. I pause at the door, take a deep breath, and walk in.

And there he is. Always already there. Always waiting. Always on time.

Axel Morelli, the man whose name makes grown men lower their voices. The man who stole me from my world and built this golden cage around me. He sits at the head of the table, perfect and unreadable. When he looks up, his gaze hits like a punch... sharp, assessing and all-consuming. It fills me with warmth, dread, and something else I hate myself for feeling.

I walk toward my usual seat, the one on his right, because that’s where he wants me and sit down.

Angela, the house manager, enters with her perfect smile, placing our plates in front of us. “Dinner is served,” she says softly before slipping out, closing the door behind her.

And then it’s just us. Again. With the Silence that screams. I focus on my food rather than the man next to me, but it tastes bitter; everything tastes bitter these days.

I could be with Harris right now. We could probably be window shopping, waiting for the day we finally get our lives together. Maybe we’d be laughing with friends, maybe we’d be lazing away somewhere, maybe we’d just be… living.

Whatever it is, I can’t help but wonder what’s going on with him now. Has he moved on? Is he still looking for me?

But most of all ... is he still alive?

I know I’ve asked this question countless times, and it always ends badly between me and Axel. He promised me Harris is still alive. But I don’t trust him.....hence, I don’t believe him.

How could I? The last time I saw Harris, Axel had a gun pointed at his head.

But I know bringing it up again won’t bear any fruit. It always ends the same....same words, same lines, so repetitive it’s become mundane, boring even. Still, whenever I think about Harris, my sweet, loving, carefree boyfriend.....

I get so mad, furious. He doesn't get to just sit there and have a nice peaceful evening… I want to ruin Axel’s mood. I want to ruin his appetite.He eats like he’s savoring something exquisite, so focused and calm, it irritates me.

“Kill anyone interesting today?” I ask, my tongue thick with sarcasm as I stare at him.

“No one of importance,” he answers flatly, as if we were discussing the weather.

Right. That’s the kind of man holding me prisoner.

“So you did kill someone, at least? Anyone who has someone they love waiting for them at home perhaps?” I press, leaning forward like a challenge.

Axel doesn't react, he doesn't even lose a beat. He acts as if he hadn't heard me or doesn't care much to give a reaction.

“Kill anyone's boyfriend today just for the sake of it?” I add, narrowing my eyes at him.

He sets his utensils down calmly and stares at me. I never know what Axel sees when he looks at me.....there’s always that coldness, that darkness in his eyes.

He doesn’t look like a man capable of warmth, capable of human feelings. That’s why I stopped begging him to let me go, long ago.

He stands, fixes his jacket smooth and composed without a word. He pulls his chair back and, without another glance in my direction, he turns and walks out of the dining room. No goodnight. No explanation.

I don't know why Axel keeps me in this stupid ridiculous house that's so big, but still so hard to breathe in. I don't know why he does any of the things he does to be honest.... He probably just gets a kick out of having power over me and my life.

I don't know who I am or what role I play in this house...... It’s not like he wants me. He’s never tried to touch me, never even hinted at it. I know he doesn't want me. Not like that....

He’s arrogant, cold and detached towards me. He probably just enjoys watching me suffer. That must be it. Because if it's not, then what the hell is it?

As I sit there, lost in thought, I watch Angela clearing the dishes. Something in me snaps

“How do I get out of here?” I ask suddenly, my voice sharper than I intend.

She pauses, her back still turned, then slowly looks over her shoulder at me. We’ve never really talked, not properly. At first I had begged everyone I could talk to alone to help me out of here, but I soon realised they were all under Axel's control and wouldn't defy him.

Angela's always polite, distant, cautious. But right now, I’m desperate. Tired of being trapped in this house with no answers.

Angela gives me a small, knowing smile.

“Don’t worry yourself, Hazel,” she says softly, her tone laced with something I can’t quite place. “It’s hard to keep Mr. Morelli’s interest. He gets bored with women quickly after they have fulfilled their purpose. He’ll do the same with you.”

I stare at her, unsure how to take that.

Is that supposed to comfort me?

Or is it a warning?

I know what she thinks of me. What all of them think..... I’m just another one of their boss's toys. Something he’ll play with, then toss aside when he’s done.

But It’s been three months. Three months of silent dinners and that cold stare watching me like I’m some puzzle he’s trying to solve.

When is he ever going to let me go?