The Rossi Brothers II — Adriano

Daisy.

“No,” I said, swallowing down nothing.

My hand shook beside me as I stared into the eye of the man I feared—but not today. I wasn’t going to do what he asked today because I was done being a toy.

The smile on his face vanished, replaced by the scowl I had grown used to.

“What did you say?” he asked, but I couldn’t bring myself to repeat what I had just said.

Damn it! Why must I cower before him? I should say something. I promised myself I wasn’t going to let him control my life again, so what the hell was I doing?

“I thought as much,” he smirked, relaxing back in his chair. His massive frame filled the chair, making the tiny object squeak in protest.

At times, I wondered how such a tiny object could carry such weight. My uncle was a large man—this wasn’t an insult; it was simply a fact. He knew it, and everyone around him knew it was a liability. I bet he wouldn’t be able to run when trouble came knocking at his door.

“You will get dressed, act like you want this, and then meet him tomorrow.” He went on and on about an event that wasn’t going to happen.

I wasn’t going to let it happen.

“Is that clear, Alex?” he demanded.

But I wasn’t really there; all I could think about was how to plan my escape.

A week ago, the very idea of running away would have seemed unthinkable—a fantasy I could only imagine in my head. But now, I had changed my mind.

With my head bowed dutifully, the way he always liked to be respected, I said, “Yes, Uncle.” He nodded once, and that was all I needed to leave his office.

I wanted to lash out at him, to let him know how I was feeling, but I knew that doing so would result in me getting hurt. And that was the last thing I needed.

With a scowl that could rival my uncle’s, I walked past the bodyguards he had placed around the house like obedient dogs and made my way to my room. My room was at the farthest part of the house, exactly where he wanted me to stay—away from him and everyone else in the family. He thought isolating me would break me, that punishing me for every slight mistake would shatter my spirit. But I was stronger than he thought.

After everything I had been through at his hands and those of his little family, this was the last straw.

I marched into my room, and like always, I was welcomed with how empty it looked. Aside from the bed I created myself, a small broken desk, and a small wooden chair, I didn't have any other furniture in it. To put it simply, my room was plain.

I locked the door behind me, and turned off the lights. The one thing my uncle didn’t know was that I was aware of the cameras he had placed in my room. Quickly, I grabbed a pack of chewing gum from my desk, opened all of them, and threw four pieces into my mouth, chewing hastily before spitting them back out.

Using the piece of furniture I had in my room, I was able to block the cameras. Once I was certain I wouldn’t be seen, I sprang into action. I grabbed my small bag and filled it with the important things I would need: my passport and the only item I had left of my parents.

I didn’t leave my room until I was sure everyone had gone to bed. Yes, I was sick enough to know when everyone was asleep—you learn to do that after staying in this prison for so long.

When I was certain it was clear to move, I walked over to my neatly made bed, pulled the pillow up, and retrieved the kitchen knife I had stolen some days ago. I kept it for my protection; you might wonder from whom, but I couldn’t answer that now, as no one had ever come close to doing anything bad to me.

My fist clenched around the knife tightly, turning my hand red. I had to do this. I kept telling myself as I inched toward the window. Slowly, I pushed the curtains aside and peeked outside. Just like always, three guards were standing near the gates, and the other four were scattered around the building—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pass them.

I knew I could.

I walked toward the door, held the handle, let out a deep breath, and pushed it open, stepping out.

The next thing I remember is running from some men behind me.

“You can’t run away from me, Alex! You can’t run away from this!” my uncle yelled behind me, but I couldn’t stop.

My legs kept going and going. I had made up my mind to leave this place today, and nothing was going to stop me.

Oh, how I wished everything had gone according to plan.

Before I knew it, someone grabbed my arm, tugging and pulling me back to the house. My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. I couldn’t hear myself anymore. Everything spun in circles, so quickly that I couldn’t grasp anything.

I shut my eyes, and when I opened them again, all I could see was blood. Slowly, I looked around, searching for the source, and the clarity of it made me want to throw up.

“Look at what you’ve done, Alex!” a voice shouted.

My eyes couldn’t look away from the body before me. I felt immobile as I lay there.

“You did this, Alex.” My head shook, but I didn’t know why.

I didn’t know if I tried to tell myself I wasn’t the cause of this or if I was simply in denial.

“And now you’ll pay for it!”

“No!”

****

I let out a strained sound as my eyes opened, waking up with a start. Panic gripped me as I pushed myself up in bed. I exhaled loudly, looking around to figure out where I was. My heart kept racing until my eyes connected with the familiar flowery wallpaper in my room.

Only after seeing that did I finally begin to breathe normally again.

“You’re okay. Everything is fine. They can’t come for you,” I whispered to myself repeatedly until my racing heart calmed down, and I felt ready to get out of bed.

Once I regained my bearings, I heard the loud music coming from the next room. I groaned and grasped my hair tightly. I was so sick of this—loud music and moaning every single day—but, as always, I felt powerless to do anything about it.

I walked into my bathroom, still grumbling, and stared at myself in the broken mirror. I sighed.

I looked terrible.

My hair was dry and unruly; just by looking at it, it practically screamed for a wash. My eyes were red and tired, and the dark circles beneath them did nothing to conceal my fatigue.

I was a mess.

But there was nothing I could do about it.