Sweet Misery

1. Arianna

1

ARIANNA

A cold chill touched my skin, making me shiver as I sat on my lumpy twin bed in my dorm room on the Farris University campus. I stared down at the open textbook in front of me. I hadn’t done anything but stare at it for what felt like ages. Something just didn’t feel right. None of the words were sticking in my head. It seemed pointless to continue when it clearly wasn’t working.

Sighing, snapped the book closed before I reached out and grabbed my thin blanket to pull it around me. My gaze drifted to the photo frame on the nightstand. A picture of me with my mom stared back at me. Old and crinkled, but it was the only thing I had left of her aside from the locket I wore around my neck she’d given me as a birthday gift when I’d turned eight. Inside was that same photo, albeit a lot smaller. In the photo, she looked so content. So healthy. So… alive. She was always happy. But now she was gone, taken by a drunk driver on my eighth birthday.

It had been fourteen years since I’d lost her. Fourteen long years since I’d been sent to live with my father, a man who was little more than a stranger back then. Sometimes, I wondered if it would have been easier if she’d lived long enough to warn me about him. Not that it would have changed much—when you’re eight, you don’t get a choice no matter how much you hate the circumstances.

I picked up the picture and examined it, letting my fingers brush along the crinkles on the paper, hoping that maybe if I focused hard enough, I could bring the past back to life.

"I miss you," I whispered in a choked voice. “I wish you were here instead of him.”

My father had been absent for most of my life. He only visited when he needed money or didn’t have anyone smaller to slap around. He’d stagger into the home I shared with my mom drunk out of his mind. I’d run to my room and close the door on Mom’s instruction, and then listen while she cried around the crashes and slaps that sounded out. Sometimes I’d hear him groan before her sobs would grow louder. It wasn’t until I was older and she was gone did I know he would rape her after taking all the money she had to fund his alcohol and gambling addictions. I knew he’d hit her because she’d cover her bruises with her makeup and fix a smile onto her face.

When Mom died, I tried running away as a way to avoid being forced to live with him. I’d been found within hours and shoved into the backseat of a social worker’s sedan and hauled right back to him. Each time I’d tried leaving after that would end in a severe beating. I finally gave in and never ran again.

I’d had the silly hope that he’d change. Maybe my mom had that hope too, but it quickly faded as each hit made contact. Before long, I accepted this was my life. I worked hard to get scholarships to get away from him and go to Farris. It had worked, and I only went home when he called and demanded it of me. When he needed money. Alcohol. The ugly memories of what he’d do to my mother had me handing over anything he wanted, even though I barely had anything as a struggling college student. I’d go without if it meant not suffering the beatings. At least he’d never raped me like he had her. For that I was grateful. But it had turned into a nightmare, so I’d come home just so he’d stay away from the Farris campus. Now I was at Eaton University in my hometown, having transferred in because he vowed to beat down my door daily at Farris if I didn’t. Fear and embarrassment had me transferring back my final year.

I’d left everything behind to get away from him, even a budding romantic relationship with my only friend in the world. Severo Saconne. He’d kissed me the night of our high school graduation party. One of the elite had thrown it, and I was just a scholarship kid, but he insisted I go. So I had. He’d kissed me beneath the stars, and I told him I wanted him as much as he wanted me. Then I’d gone home to get beaten by my father before I ran one last time as a means to survive. It was just as well. I knew keeping a relationship with Sever would only hurt him, and it was the last thing I wanted to do because he suffered like I did. I was doing us both a favor. I missed him though. My only friend in the world, and I’d abandoned him.

The vibrating buzz of my phone tore me away from my morose thoughts. I glanced at the screen to see my father’s name.

My guts churned as I stared down at the device. He didn’t call me often since I’d returned, and when he did, it usually meant trouble. Knowing this, I still answered.

“Arianna.” His words came out in a sharp slur. “I need you to come home. Now.”

I hesitated, knowing I didn’t have enough money to give him. “It’s late, Dad. I-I have classes tomorrow?—”

“Get your fucking ass home or I’ll come there and drag you out. Do you understand? I’m sure you wouldn’t want all your little friends seeing your punishment for disobeying your father.”

My hands shook, and I swallowed my fear as I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was just past nine at night. There was no escaping him, so trying would only end in him showing up on campus and causing a stir. He’d done it before to me when I was in high school too. Being constantly tormented by the rich assholes already took its toll, but it was only made worse by my father showing up and shoving me around for everyone to see. One would think it would light a fire with the administration to get me help, but they’d simply turned the other cheek. To them, I was just another stain marring their prestigious school and should be grateful I got to attend. My mother’s life insurance had paid for most of my education until I graduated high school. She hadn’t had much, but it was enough to get me that education. Had my father been able to touch that, I knew I’d have ended up at the local public school instead and he’d had squandered the money that was rightfully mine. In fact, the little bit left over after my high school education was paid was quickly used by him within the same week it became available. It didn’t surprise me, but it did hurt me.

“I’ll be there soon,” I replied, my voice wobbling. I ended the call without saying goodbye.

My dad didn’t live far from the campus, but I took my time getting there. My old car barely had life in it, and the life it did have left, I didn’t want to waste going to visit him, yet there was I was, listening to the familiar rattle of the rusted out fenders whenever I hit a pothole. The emergency fifty I kept was in my pocket since I knew he’d ask for money in addition to my presence.

Eventually, I couldn’t keep driving below the speed limit and doing extra laps around the block, so I pulled into the driveway of the neglected home I’d spend most of my adolescence in. Peeling paint, broken shutters, boarded up windows and missing shingles. It wasn’t the place one would want to call home, but it’s where I grew up and really all I had unless I counted my cramped dorm room.

Sighing, I parked my car and got out. The old wooden steps creaked under my feet, sagging beneath what little I weighed. The very real fear of the entire thing collapsing and breaking my ankle weighed heavily on me so I made haste getting to the front door, avoiding a rotted out board along the way.

Reaching out, I pushed the door open only to be greeted by the smell of stale alcohol and a musky scent like that of an old basement. This was just because the place was a disgusting mess since I’d moved into the dorms. He never cleaned. He simply let the beer cans and bottles of booze pile up right next to the old takeout boxes.

“Dad?” I called out, stepping around a bag of trash that hadn’t made it to the curb.

“You took your time getting here,” he muttered, standing too quickly and swaying on his feet. The stains on his dirty white shirt made me look away. I could smell him from where I stood.

I stepped deeper into the small living room. “What’s going on? Is everything OK?”

He stared me down for a moment before speaking. “I need some money.”

Briefly, I closed my eyes and hung my head before I dug into the pocket in my skirt and took out the fifty I had. I was short this month and knew I’d need it to eat, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. I held my hand out with the money and he wasted no time coming to me and snatching it before stuffing it into his pocket.

“I’ll pay you back,” he said, stepping around me. I stared at the wall in front of me. He always said that but never did unless I counted him hitting me whenever he needed a punching bag. So in that manner, he gave me a lesson if nothing else.

“Come on,” he continued, pulling open the front door. “We’re leaving.”

“Where?” I frowned, not moving forward to follow. We never went anywhere together. For a moment, my heart lifted, thinking maybe he wanted to talk. Form a bond. Be a father.

“Shut your fucking mouth and get into the goddamn car.” He came back and struck me hard across the face, sending me to my knees before he fisted my long dark braid and gave it a shake. His fingers dug deep and tore several strands from the tight braid. I cried out at the pain as some of the hair splintered from my scalp. The moment he tugged me to my feet, he shoved me roughly, sending me careening against the doorframe. I caught myself before I went down, tears stinging my eyes.

“Get in the fucking car,” he snarled, storming past me.

With shaking hands, I closed the front door and followed him out to my car as he got into the passenger side. I slid in behind the wheel and waited for instructions on where we were going.

“Head outside of town. East side,” he grunted.

I started the engine without a word and pulled out of the driveway.

I didn’t know where we were going, but I wished wherever it was, he wasn’t there.

The drive was silent with the exception of him grunting out directions to me. Eventually, familiarity left, and I stared out the window, watching the streets grow darker and more unfamiliar the further we traveled. The leaves had fallen from the trees long ago and snow flurries fluttered through the night sky as I drove. I hated the cold. In fact, I hated winter, Christmas, and the holidays completely. They hadn’t been good since my mom died. I was glad they were over for another year and spring was approaching.

Finally, we turned down a road with no houses on it on the edge of the city where all the large estates were. The neighbors were few and far between due to how much the rich owned. I guess they had the luxury of space.

Wish I did.

My guts twisted when he instructed me to turn down a long paved driveway that wound its way deep beyond a forest. The gates opened as we approached, and I swallowed thickly. Whatever we were doing here couldn’t be good.

A mansion broke through the trees. I’d never seen such a large house before. Five stories. Massive windows. Manicured, sweeping lawns. Pillars. Towers. Bricks and stone making up the monstrosity.

And cold.

A place that peeled life away from anyone dumb enough to visit.

“Where are we?” I whispered, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he opened his door and got out, barking at me to follow.

Nervously, I did, walking behind him as he went up the stone stairs to the front door that was guarded by two large men dressed in black.

“I’m Arnold Day. I’m here to see?—”

“We know who you are. He’s waiting for you.” One of the men stepped aside, letting us pass. I kept my eyes down, not wanting to upset anyone.

“Dad?” I called out uncertainly.

He finally turned to me as we stepped into the hall, his expression hard and unreadable. “Don’t talk unless you’re spoken to. Don’t disobey. Don’t fuck this up you little bitch or so help me, I’ll kill you where you stand and rid the world of you. You’ve never been much good to me, but maybe now you’ll be fucking useful.”

My heart cracked at his words, unable to believe this was the man who had given me life. I’d spent my entire life wanting to have a father, a real one, I could love and who loved me back. All I got was him though.

“In here.” A guard came out and directed us into an office. We stepped inside, my throat tight.

Nothing good would come from tonight. I could feel it all the way to my soul.

“Don Saccone,” my father called out, his voice holding a slight tremble to it as a large, muscular middle-aged man rose from his seat behind a desk. Four other men stepped into the room and surrounded us.

“I-I’ve brought my daughter. Arianna.”

I stared past my father to the man called Don Saccone. I knew him. Not personally, but he was always on the news. He was mafia. The biggest crime boss in the U.S. and hell, the world. He made international headlines often. And he was Sever’s father.

I’d never met him, but I knew who he was. I’d never gone to Sever’s house. We always hung out after school in the park beneath an old oak tree. We’d walk the trail through the woods there and just talk. We had an unspoken understanding that neither or us wanted to drag the other into our nightmare, so we stayed on neutral ground. I knew Sever’s father was just as bad as mine with his violence, maybe worse since he killed for a living.

Don Saconne’s dark eyes swept over me with calculating cruelty which made my skin crawl and had me wanting to run screaming into the night.

“S-She’s pure. Young. Intelligent,” my father continued, his voice still shaking.

Don Saconne continued to stare at me as I shrank away.

“Remove your shirt,” Don Sacoone commanded, disregarding my father.

I blinked at his words, unsure if he were being serious.

“Arianna,” I whispered.

“I-I…no,” I choked out, realizing this wasn’t some joke. The man really wanted me to take my shirt off.

Don Saconne nodded his head. I was seized roughly from behind by a guard. I cried out, my heart pounding hard.

“Since your daughter is unwilling to obey, please.” Saconne nodded from my father to me. “Remove her shirt for us.”

My father’s eyes widened as he stared back at me. If he’d clean himself up, he’d have been a handsome man, but as he stood, he was a drunk mess.

“Take the girl’s shirt off, or I kill you and fuck her over your corpse,” Saconne snarled.

My father shuffled over to me and slowly unbuttoned my blouse, his hands shaking.

“Dad, please,” I choked out. “Don’t. Don’t let him do this. Please. ”

“Slap her,” Saconne commanded. “Have you not taught her discipline?”

My father’s eyes locked on mine briefly as my shirt fell open before his hand connected with my face. I let out another cry at the impact, my ears ringing.

The guard holding me tightened his grip as I fell against him. Roughly, he jerked me back upright, forcing me to stand.

Saconne let out a soft laugh at the abuse before the room went quiet. I watched as he walked over, towering over me by at least a foot and looking every bit of terrifying as his eyes suggested he was.

He shoved my shirt back and stared down at my chest before he reached out and pulled my breasts out from the bra cups. My face heated, embarrassment and shame rolling through my body. I’d never been with anyone before. No one had ever seen my body. Having my father there to witness the humiliation only made it worse.

Saconne’s hands kneaded and squeezed my breasts painfully before he pinched my nipples, making me bite back the scream that was threatening to rip from my throat.

He looked to my father, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“What do you think, Arnold? Does your daughter have beautiful tits?”

My father visibly swallowed and mumbled an answer while looking away. Saconne reached out and gripped my father’s chin and forced him to look at me.

“She weeps. Look at the tears,” he whispered as he shook my father’s face, forcing him to continue to look at me. “Her skin is flushed with embarrassment. Tell me, Arnold. Have you ever touched her tits before? They’re quite large and perfect, really. Best set I’ve seen in a long time. And real.” Saconne swept a hungry look over me. “That body too. How did such a beauty come from such a shit stain such as yourself?”

My father shook where he stood, his breathing ragged.

“Touch them.” Saconne released my father and backed away.

“What? You said if I paid my debt, I’d be free?—”

“You’re correct. This is part of that freedom. I want to see you touch her. Do it or die.”

No. No. NO!

With shaky hands, my father reached out and squeezed my breasts. I gagged as he gently kneaded them, the sickness tearing through my guts. He ran his fingers along my nipples, his eyes growing darker with each caress.

“There nice, aren’t they?” Saconne called out softly.

“Yes,” my father answered thickly.

“They make your dick hard?”

My father nodded mutely, his hands still traversing my chest. I wept silently, sending up silent prayers for it to be over.

“Taste them,” Saconne said. “It’ll be the last time you see them after tonight. Get your fill. Let go for a moment and walk away a free man. Do what you’ve thought about since you had to buy her that first bra.”

My father visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Please,” I rasped. “No?—”

His lip descended on my breasts, sucking and kissing them. Bile burned my throat, my body ice cold inside.

I wanted him dead. He had to die. I was going to kill him. So help me god, I would kill him for this.

Saconne let out a booming laugh before striking my father and sending him to the ground.

“You’re really a disgusting piece of shit, aren’t you?” Saconne kicked him in the ribs amid my father’s cries. “Touching your daughter and leaving her to me for a debt you incurred? Your cock so hard as you hope I let you fuck her before you go.” Another kick. My father cried out again, begging for him to stop.

“That’s fine. She’ll make a good toy for my sons.” Another kick. “Her pussy belongs to the Saconne’s now.” One more kick. My father collapsed onto the floor completely before Saconne walked away and went back to his desk where he pulled out a cigar.

“Get him out of here,” was all he said before lighting his cigar. My father was dragged from the room, sobbing softly, leaving me alone with the monster and two guards.

“You really do have perfect tits,” Saconne said as I stood trembling before him, still exposed. “My sons will enjoy you. And wouldn’t you know it. They just lost their last toy. Are you a virgin, Arianna?”

I swallowed, my body trembling.

“Y-Yes.”

Saconne smirked. “Even better. A shiny new toy. They broke the last one. It was a used one though.”

Before I could beg for my life, a black bag was pulled over my face and a sharp pinch met my neck.

And that was it.

I was gone.