His thick palm seizes my throat, his lips curling as he lifts me up to his height, suspending me on the tips of my toes. Instinctively, I claw at his hand, and I assure myself that if I die here and now and Zade finds my body, he’ll know exactly who was responsible based on the skin caked beneath my nails.
Rocco doesn’t flinch, despite how deeply my nails bite into his skin. The edges of my vision darken as my body depletes of oxygen, steadily emptying from my lungs while stars burst across my eyes.
“Don’t kill her. She’s valuable,” Francesca snaps, though her voice sounds far away, like I’m trapped in a vortex.
Snarling, he swings me around and tosses me to the floor like a wadded-up gum wrapper.
I grunt from the impact, landing awkwardly on my right wrist, but before I can lift myself up, he’s climbing on me, his weight suffocating.
Survival instincts immediately kick in, and my fight or flight activates-namely my fight. I twist beneath him and swing my elbows towards his head. But I miss, a weak attempt at knocking out a two-hundred-pound-plus man from on top of me.
“Get off me!” I screech, bucking my hips, desperate to dislodge him. So desperate that I’ve become rabid. I will tear the flesh from my bones with my teeth if it means getting out from beneath him. I will do anything-absolutely anything-to escape.
“Rocco,” Francesca warns, cutting through the sheer panic that has consumed my mind. “She needs to heal.”
“She needs to learn her place. It doesn’t have to hurt,” he argues, breathless from wrangling my struggling body into compliance. He’s failing-but so am I. I’m weak and still in pain, and he’s so much stronger.
He’s going to win.
“Right, diamond? This could be quick and painless. A little lesson to teach you to keep your fucking mouth shut.”
He bashes my face into the wooden floor, dirt and dust grinding into my face as he rips at my joggers. The fabric tears, the loud ripping noise sending another shot of horror into my system as his excited breathing escalates.
“No!” I shout as he tears at my underwear next. He ignores me and unfastens his jeans, the bite of his zipper coming undone his only response. Rivulets of tears stream down my cheeks as I feel his flesh against my backside.
I try to twist again, but one punch to the back of my head deters me, my world exploding. Pain has been a constant companion this last week, but it’s nowhere to be found now. My mind feels as if I could run a mile, yet my body physically cannot stop this man from defiling me.
“Don’t hit her!” Francesca snaps, more worried about him bruising the apple. But how can that be when I’m going to be fucking rotten by the time he’s done?
In one thrust, he buries himself inside me, and I scream. Loud and piercing, the pitch matching the shrill ringing in my head.
“Goddammit, Rocco, you’re not wearing a condom,” Francesca shouts, and there’s a soft whisper in my head, wondering how she can stand to watch this. Just stand there, angry that her brother isn’t wearing a condom as he rapes a girl.
He grunts and then laughs as he repeatedly drives himself inside me.
“Feels fucking incredible, too.”
There’s nothing I can do to stop him, and the defeat that coats my skin like hot oil fucking burns.
I try to crawl away from him, my nails digging into the wood and anchoring me as I try to pull myself out from beneath him. They bend and break from the pressure, tearing from my skin as he drags me back down, scratches gouging the floor.
He slams into me once, twice more before pulling out and finishing on me. Ribbons of his seed spurt across my back, and I can’t help but gag.
He growls, his palm crashing into the side of my face.
“Rocco!” A heel stomps into the wood in a fit of rage, the vibrations traveling to my bleeding hands.
“Fucking bitch,” he mutters, ignoring her. I gag again, the feel of his essence seeping into my flesh nauseating.
Francesca sighs, rushes over to me, and grabs me roughly by the arm.
“Get up,” she spits, hauling me to my feet. I’m so angry, so distraught from what he just did that I react. As soon as I’m on my feet, I twist at the waist and send my fist flying into his nose. He howls in response, gearing up to charge at me, but Francesca steps between us and blocks him.
“Stay down! You’ve done enough,” she snarls, then drags me out of the room. I’m still naked from the waist down, with blood smudged between my thighs. My body was unaccepting of what he was doing, making the intrusion raw and extremely painful.
She pushes me into my room and slaps me across the face, causing me to stumble. The door slams, and then, “Why did you do that, stupid, stupid girl?”
She slaps me again, and my ears ring from the pain. I grab my cheek, continuing to scramble away from her as she backs me against the wall.
You’re bruising the apple, Francesca.
Her hands grip either side of my face, and her manicured talons dig into my reddened cheeks.
Putting her face in mine, she snarls lowly, “You keep your mouth shut, do you hear me? The men in this house will do everything to make your life hell until you’ve been paid for. And you sure as fuck don’t hit them!”
She shakes me, “Tell me you understand,” she whisper-shouts, keeping her voice quiet.
“I understand,” I cry, my cheeks hot and wet from the constant tears.
Francesca releases me angrily, tearing herself away and shooting a heated glare over her shoulder as she paces the room. I slide down the wall, no longer capable of holding myself up as sobs rack my body. A streak of blood follows me down, and I realize Rocco ripped open the stitches on my back. Spearing my hands through my hair, I grip the strands tight, willing myself to calm.
Deep breaths, Addie. Deep breaths.
Just breathe.
Breathe, little mouse…
Chapter 9
The Diamond
It seems when my life turns upside down, I always have a diary to offer me escape.
I’m not sure how she managed to get a hold of a journal, but I find comfort in Molly’s angry words. A young girl that was stolen from her life just as I was. And groomed by Francesca, no less.
My mouth dropped when I read that Francesca has been doing this for at least thirteen years now. How many girls has she watched be raped, tortured, and sold off to demented people? How many did she hurt herself?
My stomach rolls, and my throat thickens with disgust as I take in the words of a broken girl. She was full of life in a world that was determined to take it from her, and through each entry, I fall more in love with her. I feel her in every stroke of the pen, so I brush my trembling fingers across them and mold myself into her harsh lines.
She’s everything I want to be.
When I come to the last page, my heart breaks, and millions of questions arise. As quickly as I had found some form of comfort, I’m now left desolate and empty once more.
Tears line the edges of my lids as I tear through pages, frantic and in need of more of her words. But I find nothing but blank pages.
Did she ever make it out? Did she make it back to Layla and take her away to find a new life? A better life?
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.