CHAPTER FIVE.

SABINE'S POINT OF VIEW

The ride is silent, save for the sound of my breathing as we move on the road. He barely acknowledges my presence, his eyes on his phone as he furrows his brows in concentration.

I don't speak. I couldn't dare to. His stony face scares me.

The sound of the gunshot from earlier, and the ear-piercing scream from my mother as my father fell, clutching his knee and shoulder, fills my ears again. The feel of his guard's rough hands as he lifted me onto his shoulders like a sack of rice.

The car stops before a building, and I am hauled out roughly, his firm, rough hands on my wrists as he pulls me out of the car, and onto his shoulders.

These people need to stop treating me like cargo.

"Let me go!" I scream, fighting against my restraints, as I kick against his broad, firm chest.

"Stop moving." He orders.

Next thing I know, I feel a harsh smack on my ass.

Did this man just-?

"Stop that!" I whimper, shame coating my cheeks as He moves into the building. 

A few steps later, he stops in front of a door, turns the lock, and places me on the bed harshly. I bounce off it and rush to the door.

I'm too late.

The sound of the door locking fills the room, and the click reverberates through me.

"No! open the door!" I yell as I pound my fists against the door.

No one comes, not even as I keep pounding, standing there for what feels like hours.

Slowly, hopelessness creeps in as I fall to the floor, exhaustion and fear filling me.

Is this how it's to be?

What is to become of me?

Different questions fill my mind, as my eyes fill with tears.

What do I do?

Just as fear and hopelessness fill me, it is replaced with determination.

I rise to my feet, wipe my tears, and move to search the room for whatever I can use in my defence.

I find nothing.

What am I to do?

I ask myself as I look around, and suddenly, the image from a movie I watched comes to mind.

The curtains!

I dash forward, pulling the curtain from the wall, and I throw it over the balcony. 

I ran back inside, yanked the curtains down, and tied them together quickly. Silently. I looped them over the rail and climbed down, hand over hand, heart thudding in my ears.

By the time my feet hit the grass, I could see lights ahead. The garden, maybe..

I do not hesitate as I duck behind hedges, out of sight.

Then, I hear it, loud and clear as someone screams as loudly as possible into the silent night.“She’s escaping!”

My adrenaline pushes me forward as I run, propelled by fear, and the sheer need to be out of here.'

As far from his hold as possible. His stormy grey eyes fill my vision as I move, the anger, the pain, the void in them could suck anyone in like a black hole, leaving the victim to fins their way out.

He is a devil.

I didn’t think, just moved. My feet push me closer to the fountain, and I dash past it, heading for the gate, heading toward freedom.

But just before I reached it

A strong arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me back like a rag doll.

My breath caught.

The scent hit me first. Spicy, familiar.

Dominic.

His voice ghosted against my ear.

“Trying to run, dolcezza?”

The way he said it, low and lethal, made something sharp twist in my stomach.

“I told you to let me go!” I screamed, fighting against his hold.

“You scream like that again and you’ll tear your throat,” he said casually. “But maybe you like it rough.”

“I’ll do anything to escape you,” I spat, hatred and fear clawing at me.

His voice dropped. Cold. Final.

“If you try this again, your parents will suffer. I tried to do this the easy way—but you don’t listen.”

That’s when I saw it.

The sharp end of a needle.

The syringe sits in his hand, lethally, evilly, as his smirk fills my vision, bathed in the moonlight, and the garden lights from the different parts of the mansion.

My eyes widened. “What are you doing? No, please, I’ll be good, I swear. I’ll stay, just please, no.”

“You wasted your chance at mercy,” he said, gripping my arm.

The sting of the needle cut through me like betrayal.

My last thought before the darkness took me?

Please don’t let me wake up in one of his clubs. Please, God.