“You're my greatest obsession, Lucy…” “If I can't have you, neither will they. It's as simple as that…” “My brothers have always had everything they wanted. I can't let them have you too…” “Choosing me is the safest option. For one, I won't ever put you through hell…” **** Growing up with an extremely abusive Father, Lucy never experienced care, love, support and attention. But then everything changed in a blink of an eye and now she has four Mafia brothers vying for her attention, willing to kill for her, putting everything they have on the line for her.
view more“How dare you try to stop me, you ungrateful bitch?!”
That voice. That yell. The dangerous anger behind it made Lucy abruptly halt in her tracks.
She knew the voice. It was her Father's. And the low whimpering, shushed voice in the background of that chaos was her mother's.
Tears welled up in Lucy's eyes as she stared at her house. Going inside would mean being on the receiving end of her Father's abuse too.
She's been receiving it since she was five. Lucy wasn't sure if it began earlier, but as far as her memory went, he began hurting her when she was five.
One time, he smacked her face so hard that he made her lose two teeth forcefully. It was one hell of an excruciating pain for a five-year-old.
She recalled crying every night and her mother would hold her convulsing body so tightly.
And from then on, it got worse. She got punched, hit with a belt, stomped on, and had her hair yanked so bad. All by her Father.
She couldn't hate him back then. Because her Mother would always make excuses for him.
He has a gambling problem, Lucy. He's not in his right senses, but that doesn't mean he hates us.
Learn to understand your father, Lucy. He's not great at handling his anger.
Countless excuses for a wretched beast who thrived on humiliating and punishing his family.
Lucy was appalled whenever she remembered all those dumb excuses. Even worse, when she realized how weak her mother was.
Stockholm syndrome, Lucy concluded. That had to be her mother's problem. Because why else would she wanna stay with a man like her Father?
Why else was she okay with being turned into a punching bag for over a decade?
Why else does she insist that she loved a man who'd crush her in a breath?
“You're still talking?!” Her Father barked and then the female whimpering increased by a notch.
Lucy dried her tears harshly and willed herself to walk into the house. If she stayed outside, her Father might just end up killing her mother tonight and that would be the most irreparable pain she'd have to deal with.
“I'm begging you, Mark. Don't take the last savings I have.” Her mother was on the floor, bleeding from her nose and mouth, whilst holding his leg and begging.
Her Father kicked her hand and snorted. “What belongs to you also belongs to me. You should already know that by now.”
“Yes, of course I've known that for so long. And I've never held anything from you. Back when you took all the money I got from my parents' little building that I sold. Or when you gambled away Lucy's college tuition f*e and now she's stuck juggling part-time jobs. I never blamed you for it. I never got angry…”
Lucy wiped at the flood of tears rolling down her face as she listened to her mother's heart-wrenching confession.
“...but this is different, Mark. I need this money. I'm…I'm sick.”
“I don't care if you're dead and buried. I'll never care about that.”
“I’m not asking you to care. But I need to stay alive for Lucy. I'm the only reason she's yet to break down from all the toxicity she's faced from this family. Please, don't take me away from my daughter. Give me back the money. I need to get treated.”
“Get your hand off my leg, woman!!” Her Father growled, kicking her hand off. He put the money deep into his pocket with a satisfied and wicked grin.
“That's enough, Father!” Lucy finally stepped forward, standing in front of her Father.
The man's face twisted in disgust. And also anger.
“What the hell did you just say to me, you little tramp?!”
“I said, that's enough,” Lucy repeated. Her voice had dropped a notch now, but she still sounded firm.
She felt her Mother's weak hands reaching for hers, but she ignored them.
“Are you out of your mind?” Her Father asked in a brewing anger. “Or do you want me to give you a face reconstruction?”
Lucy inhaled a shaky breath. “Go ahead, Father. I dare you. But know this, once your hand touches my face, I'll go straight to the police and report you.”
The threat was already out of her lips before she realized how heavy it was. And she immediately regretted saying it. But it was too late, she couldn't take it back.
Her Father had already become rigid, turning into a whole different monster.
Lucy's legs shook terribly. His fists were tight and she knew what was coming.
A punch. A lethal punch that'd make her head spin and leave her out of breath.
But to her shock, something else came. The chaotic ringtone from her Father's phone.
He picked it up, keeping his enraged eyes on her.
“What is it?” He replied harshly into the phone.
Lucy was distracted, as she glanced at her whimpering Mother who was still squirming on the floor.
When she looked at her Father again, the man looked pale and distorted.
“What did you just say?!” He yelled, running out of the house like his ass was on fire.
Lucy watched his abrupt exit with a curious but grateful heart.
“Lucy, dear. Why did you do that?” Her mother sobbed.
Lucy crouched next to her, hugging her so tightly. “We need to get away from him, Mother. Or he might kill you. And if that happens…if that happens…”
Tears wouldn't let her finish. She hugged her mother tightly again, as they both bawled their eyes out.
That night, her Father didn't return to the house. For the next three days, there wasn't any sign of him.
Lucy wasn't worried. She was more relieved. Her mother's new bruises were healing. If her Father were here, they wouldn't heal. He wouldn't let them heal.
Clocking out work by 7 pm, Lucy shopped for some groceries.
She came home at exactly 9 p.m., exhausted. She pushed the door open, walking inside.
The living room light was turned off. Weird. They never turn it off.
“Mother?”
Lucy took off her jacket, as she waited for her mother's reply.
When none came, it aroused a little fear inside her. She headed to the kitchen with her bag of groceries.
“Mum?!”
The kitchen light was turned off too. Lucy searched for the switch and turned it on.
She gasped at the sight of three buff men, leaning against the kitchen table and counter.
Her mother was tied to a chair, gagged.
“Mo…mother?” She took a step but one of the men stood in front of her mother, pinning a dagger to her Mother's neck, as if warning Lucy not to come an inch close.
Lucy had already dropped her bag of groceries in shock. Now her trembling hands were fisting her dress, while she fought back her tears.
“Who…who are you guys?”
The heavy footsteps behind her made her turn around. It was a man, one she's never seen before.
“We were waiting for you, Lucy Davis.” The man said with a cocky grin.
The whips landed hard on her bare thighs, and she cried out again. She was tied to a chair and was being viciously whipped in a cold, single-lit room. The lashes came harder on her thighs, leaving bloodied lines. She was exhausted and every part of her body ached. But there wasn't an end to her misery. There didn't seem to be. The door opened and two figures walked inside. Three more lashes landed on her thighs and then they stopped. Her eyes were weakly shut and her breathing was very laboured. At this point, she feared she might die. “Is she ready to speak?” The calm, reverberating baritone spiked up something inside her. She forced her eyes open, staring at the figures. And then slowly the taller one came closer, until the light shone on him. Lucy couldn't believe her eyes. It was him — the man at the balcony. He still had the shades on. “I’ll take it that you're ready to speak.” He said, looking right at her. “How long have you been working here?”“Th…three days.”“Right.
The ache in Lucy's back and shoulders increased as she wiped the already sparkling floor harder. “Is that all you got?!” The woman yelled again. She sent her whip flying and it landed hard on Lucy's back. The pain stung like hell, almost knocking her breath away. She collapsed on the floor, squirming in pain.“Get serious!” The woman yelled. Lucy shoved down the pain and began scrubbing the floor even harder. After her awful ordeal with the creepy man who wanted to sleep with her, she was brought here. It was a castle-like mansion. She was turned into a maid who barely had time to eat, sleep, or catch her breath. It's been two days of endless torture from Ma'am Nicole, the woman who owned the voice in that room that day. She was pained by the money she lost that night. And she was taking it out on Lucy. Growing up with a Father who physically abused her made Lucy kinda tough to some of the beatings. But not the whips. Those things had a special kind of spine-busting pain. Tear
The tension in the room was because of the presence of the man whose name was feared to be mentioned by men of his calibre. Commoners wouldn't dare utter the name, but they'd piss their pants when they hear it. He was feared, dreaded, obeyed to a fault, and worshipped. “What exactly are we looking for, Boss?” His right-hand man, Locke, asked as he flipped the pages of the ledger. Domenico Stone was standing close to the window, basking in the warm breeze of the summer. The dark shades on his eyes concealed the fact that those eyes were useless. He was blind; that was his only disadvantage in life. “Proof that Blaze is embezzling the L.A casino's funds.” Domenico replied with an edgy voice. His Italian accent gets thicker by the day. He was the only Italian amongst the Stone brothers. Half-Italian. But he loved leaning more into his Italian side than his American side. That was one of the reasons the Italian mafia was backing him up in his fight to become the official Don of the
Lucy found herself staring a bit longer at the man who'd just walked in. His intimidating height and unnerving aura brewed an intense panic inside her. But it wasn't just that, it was the outfit. It was the hilt of a dagger in his belt and the gun next to it. It was the menacing black attire that all four of the men wore. But the one who walked in behind her had a rich, fur coat over his, making him somewhat superior. She could see the tattoos across his left breast because he'd left the buttons of his inner shirt open. The letters and the cross symbol rested firmly on his shirt. Lucy knew to be terrified. They weren't ordinary men. Those symbols…she'd seen them once in the papers. They belonged to the Stone Brotherhood, the most ruthless gangsters of the century. “What took you so long?” The man asked with a smile that would pass for charming if he didn't have a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes. He brushed past her, leaving behind the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Lucy in
“How dare you try to stop me, you ungrateful bitch?!”That voice. That yell. The dangerous anger behind it made Lucy abruptly halt in her tracks. She knew the voice. It was her Father's. And the low whimpering, shushed voice in the background of that chaos was her mother's. Tears welled up in Lucy's eyes as she stared at her house. Going inside would mean being on the receiving end of her Father's abuse too.She's been receiving it since she was five. Lucy wasn't sure if it began earlier, but as far as her memory went, he began hurting her when she was five.One time, he smacked her face so hard that he made her lose two teeth forcefully. It was one hell of an excruciating pain for a five-year-old. She recalled crying every night and her mother would hold her convulsing body so tightly. And from then on, it got worse. She got punched, hit with a belt, stomped on, and had her hair yanked so bad. All by her Father. She couldn't hate him back then. Because her Mother would always ma
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