LIKE IT OR NOT, YOU'RE MINE; A Don's obsession

~~Ines~~

I thought the worst days of my life were the ones when my mother forced me to eat seafood, even though she knew I was allergic to it all because my sister couldn't eat it and they didn't want to waste it.

Or the days she made me scrub the floors until my knees hurt while my sister sat around, enjoying her place as the perfect daughter.

But I was wrong.

The worst day of my life started on a Thursday night, after my boss had worked me to the bone with a double shift.

By the time I got home, my feet were aching inside my shoes and my back felt like it had been carrying a sack of stones all day.

I pushed open the front door, already preparing myself for the usual noise from my family.

Instead, silence greeted me.

I stopped in the doorway, my hand still wrapped around the handle as I stared into the apartment.

“Uh…”

Had I somehow walked into the wrong house?

On a normal night, my father would be sitting in the living room, watching the news with the volume loud enough for the whole building to hear. My mother would be nearby, painting her nails or crocheting one of her handbags, while Karla would be in her room doing whatever the hell she did in there.

Tonight, though, there was nothing.

My brows pulled together as I stepped inside, slowly closing the door behind me.

The apartment looked exactly the way I had left it that morning. The furniture was in place, the floors were clean, and the cushions on the sofa were arranged so neatly that it looked like nobody had sat on them all day.

The lights were off, leaving the room washed in the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains.

“Mom?” I called, dropping my bag onto the sofa. “Dad? Karla?”

My voice sounded strangely loud in the quiet apartment.

“Anyone home?”

I waited but no one answered.

I rubbed my tired face, wondering if they had all gone out without telling me.

That wouldn't have been unusual. My family had a way of making plans as if I didn't exist, so maybe they had decided to go somewhere and simply forgotten to inform the family disappointment.

Still, something about the silence bothered me.

I walked toward my parents' bedroom, my slippers dragging against the floor as I pushed the door open.

“Mom?”

The room was empty.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the neatly made bed.

My mother never made the bed.

She considered that my job, along with scrubbing the floors, washing the dishes, and apparently making sure the entire apartment didn't collapse under the weight of her laziness.

I took a step inside, my eyes moving around the room.

Then I noticed it my mother's suitcase was gone. So was my father's.

I walked closer to the wardrobe and pulled one of the doors open and all I saw was emptiness.

My stomach tightened.

Where the hell had they gone?

I rushed back into Karla's room and saw it was empty too.

My tired brain struggled to put the pieces together, but every explanation I came up with made less sense than the last.

My eyes moved toward the front door and a cold feeling crawled up my back.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time.

11:47 p.m.

I had worked a double shift, dragged myself home half-dead, and now I was standing in an empty apartment with no idea where my family had gone.

Were they all playing some kind of hide-and-seek with me?

Were they kidnapped overnight?

Or had they really decided to leave without me?

I shook my head quickly.

“No. No, that doesn't make sense.”

I pressed both hands against my temples, trying to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming.

Then, I hurried out of the apartment, barely remembering to lock the door behind me.

Mrs. Gigi lived next door.

She was an elderly woman who spent most of her time at home, looking after her cat and keeping an eye on everyone in the neighborhood.

If something had happened to my family, she would know.

I rushed up her front porch and pressed the doorbell.

A few seconds later, the door opened.

Mrs. Gigi stood there in her dressing gown, her grey hair tied loosely behind her head.

She looked like she had been waiting for someone.

But the moment her eyes landed on me, her expression changed.

Her lips parted and the color drained from her face.

She stared at me from head to toe, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

“Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed, her unmistakable British accent cutting through the quiet night. “Ines? What in the world are you doing here? I thought you left with them yesterday night!”