But the ultimate question that confused me more than any other—why, after his family killed my father, after everything he had put me through, did I not hate him? How could I look at him, the man that starved me, had me beaten and humiliated, and still desire him more than anything else?
I closed my eyes and tried my best to focus on the pain that lingered throughout my body. It was the only way to stop the memories from storming back into my mind.
Vico’s belt.
Nicollo’s vile breath while he spewed threatening promises of how he would violate my body.
Castello’s mother’s eyes as she stared at me with so much hate I could feel it inside my bones.
And then seeing my dad bleed, witnessing the last breath escaping his body. It was tiny pieces of hell I relived over and over inside my mind. I tried my best not to think of it. But then again, thinking of Castello wasn’t helping either. All it did was confuse me more, making my mind spin out of control.
He locked the fucking door, and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that it didn’t bother me…it did. This all started with me as his prisoner. Would it ultimately end with me at his feet as his slave?
Along with the satiated ache between my legs and the burn on my skin, I could feel the darkness trying to claw me in. Confusion, grief, heartache, angst—it all churned deep inside me, simmering, boiling, threatening to erupt. Unless…unless I found a way to let it all out.
Pain.
Pain had always been my cure. It purged me from things I wasn’t strong enough to deal with. It had been a part of me for so long. It calmed me, soothed me, and kept me in control.
I got up from the bed and glanced at the door, thinking of the lock, and the key Castello walked around with, probably in his jacket pocket. The more I thought about it, the more memories started to flood through my mind.
The sound of gunshots.
The screams.
The blood.
Death.
Pain.
I shook my head, biting back tears. I knew I needed to mourn the loss of my father. I knew I needed to work through what had happened to me during the last few weeks. I knew that no woman who had been through what I have would still be sane. I needed to give myself time to heal. I’d been to enough psychologists to have known all these things.
But unfortunately, I didn’t have that time. I didn’t have the luxury of mourning or dealing with the pile of shit I had been through.No. Not in this world. Not inhisworld. And that was where I was. His world. My world no longer existed, and by the sound of the door locking, no longer didours.
I looked down and stared at the scars that formed white lines across my thighs. Two of those scars were still red. It was fresher than the rest, the two marks Castello made when I was held captive at the Fattore mansion. I remember the ecstasy I felt when he sliced the blade across my skin, pushing me over the edge. To finally embrace the dark desires that lurked inside me for so long by letting him have all control over me was liberating, and the pleasure was indescribable.
Now, as I stood alone in a locked room with memories I wished I could forget, I knew I needed to experience that again. The relief of letting go. But it had been too long since I’d bled by Castello’s hand, which was why I needed to do it myself.
With one final glance at the door, I started to search the room. I went through every cupboard and every drawer but found nothing sharp enough to help me get rid of the whirlpool of emotions that was wreaking havoc inside my mind.
When I searched through the bathroom cabinet, I finally found what I was looking for—my cure.
I took the small white-framed hand mirror and stared at my reflection for a few moments. My eyes were teary, blue circles framing them from lack of sleep. How could I sleep when demons of the past surrounded me the second I closed my eyes?
Just by the shape of my cheeks I could see I had lost weight.You were starved for fuck knows how long.
Unable to stare at myself for one second longer, I dropped the mirror to the ground and watched as it shattered into pieces. I could already feel the blackness of anticipation as it moved up my body, coating me, slowly squeezing the unwanted emotions out of me.
I bent down on my knees, picked up the sharpest piece, and stared at a part of my thigh that was unblemished, unscarred—the perfect canvas.
While I kept the broken piece of glass in my hand, something inside tried to pull me away from the temptation, willing me to fight the urge slowly creeping up my spine. It had been years since I last marred my own body. Years since I allowed myself to give in, to let my corrupt soul take control of my actions. But today, right now, I had a choice—my only choice. Either give in and allow myself this one escape that would give me the strength to get through whatever my future held in store or let my emotions weaken my chances at survival. And God knew, I needed every ounce of strength if I wanted to survive Castello Fattore.
I placed the sharp edge of the broken piece against my thigh, closed my eyes, and allowed the one memory I hated the most to enter my mind. All I saw were pools of crimson, blood and life draining out of my father’s body while Vico smiled like the devil.
The pain that shocked through me like a thousand volts right at that moment, just like it did on that fateful day, caused me to flick my wrist and slice through my skin. The burning relief instantly consumed me, and I felt my soul relax. I’d never used drugs before, but I was pretty sure this was how it felt. All the heaviness of the cruelty I carried lifted off my shoulders, and my mind was nothing but holes of emptiness. For a few brief seconds, my soul was light, unscarred, and all the bad had escaped through the cut, softly tricking down my thigh. It was only when I heard Castello’s voice roar through the room that everything came back like a giant boulder of chaos.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”