Chapter Eight
Chiara
I can’t remember when I was taken.
How long has it been now?
Days?
Weeks?
Months?
I’m losing track of everything. Every single moment spent in this place only feels like another step into madness. I don’t know what to think any more. I don’t know how to feel.
They haven’t harmed me, and they’ve been good to me.
But how can I believe the goodness in their actions?
They’ve taken me from everything I’ve ever known, and now, they’re playing a sick game of love.
Love.
The word haunts me.
They’ve done a good job at forcing it onto me, ruining me from the inside out.
I know what love is supposed to feel like.
Warm.
Safe.
Happy.
This is nothing like that.
Love isn’t being forced into a cage.
Love isn’t being watched every second of the day.
Love isn’t being turned into a possession.
Bile rises in my throat as I swallow it away.
They’ve said they want to love me. They’ve said they want to keep me.
Why don’t they understand that this isn’t love?
They’ve stolen my freedom. They’ve stolen my peace.
Yet somehow, they claim that they’re doing it out of some form of twisted affection.
I have no idea how they believe it. I sure as hell don’t.
The longer that I’ll stay here, the worse my mind will spiral. My emotions are already so tangled, I have no idea what I’m even feeling any more.
I should be angry, terrified, and I am.
But there’s also something there too; helplessness, and pity for this situation I’ve found myself in.
At first, they were always so tense, a constant coldness in their eyes. But now…now, things are different. There’s a gentleness in their expressions whenever they’re near me.
And when they touch me, when they speak to me. When they treat me like I’m their equal, making it so easy for me to forget who I truly am; their captive.
I hate it.
I hate the way they’re able to manipulate me so well.
I hate the way I’m now beginning to care about the smallest of things.
Like the way they watch me, and the way they love. Like how they make me feel so small, so trapped in this place of theirs, but also, so desired in a way I never thought would be possible in a situation like this.
It disgusts me.
I will never allow myself to want them.
I will never give in to the trap they’ve set up for me.
Every day, I think of my family; my mother, my father, my brother. I think of home, the place Papa moved us to so we would be safe. Although it wasn’t Italy, England soon became mine, and it created a new sense of normalcy for me.
But now, that world seems so far away. It all feels like a distant memory.
I wonder what my family would think if they saw me now, trapped in only a small room, surrounded by two men more dangerous than I could ever have imagined.
Will they fight for me?
Will they come charging into here, guns blazing, ready to take me back?
Or is it too late?
A sense of dread fills me with that question in mind.
There’s no doubt about it; my father will rescue me, and so will my brother. They won’t let me suffer like this.
I shake my head, not wanting to think about this any more. I can’t think about them right now, because even if I do fight back, there’s no use.
I’m completely powerless here.
I can’t run.
I can’t escape.
I’m a captive in this place.
I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve tried pushing back. It makes no difference to them. They’re amused, pleased by my acts of defiance.
It’s suffocating to spend each and every day like this.
At least they haven’t done much yet.
Yes, they watch me.
And yes, they talk to me.
But it’s never clear.
No explanation is provided, and no other information is given.
Though there’s no physical abuse, the mental toll is becoming unbearable.
They watch me, and wait for me too. They humiliate me in so many ways, like when their eyes are always on me, even when I’m using the bathroom.
They hover over me like shadows in the doorway, waiting for me to mess up, so they can step in, and take action.
And now, they’re telling me to bathe in front of them.
I shiver at that thought, this feeling more humiliating than anything else that’s happened to me in this place.
How is this even real?
It’s madness. All of it is.
I stand in the bathroom, my feet cold against the tiles on the floor. The sound of the water filling the tub barely registers as my mind continues spinning.
What are they doing?
What do they want from me?
It doesn't make sense to want me. They don’t even know me. And if they were hoping to use me against the Italians, well, they haven’t done that yet. They’ve been keeping me quiet, forcing me to escape into my mind, sending me spiralling.
Suddenly, the bathroom door creaks open. My heart races as I stiffen, my arms going around me as my fingers tremble against my bare flesh. Their presence fills the room as they both take another step inside.
Nikolai. Mikhail.
There’s no escape for me.
I hear both sets of breathing sharpen, then a low whistle fills the room.
Mikhail.
My stomach clenches at that sound, and my body begins to shake.
Without saying anything, they both move towards me.
Nikolai reaches out, running his fingertips along my waist before he pulls away, moving behind me as he adjusts the water tap. Mikhail is closer now, his breathing heavy, as he drags his eyes across my naked form.
I don’t want to look at either one of them. I don’t want to be here, exposed like this, but I know there’s no choice.
“You’re here to stay, darling.” Nikolai’s voice is low as he speaks, and I feel him returning from the bathtub to stand by my side. “It’s better that you grow comfortable around us.”
I hug myself tighter, swallowing down on a sob.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I wasn’t supposed to be here.
I was supposed to be safe with my family.
And now…
“Why are you doing this to me?”
I whisper quietly, hating myself for sounding so weak, but it’s the best I can do.
They both move in closer towards me, and they both touch me. The back of their hands brush against my bare skin as I wince slightly, feeling my heart rate pick up.
“Relax.” Mikhail says softly, his fingertips rising higher so he can brush them across the sides of my ribs. “We’re not going to hurt you, beauty. We only want to see you happy.”
A shiver goes through my body.
I don’t believe him. I don’t believe any of his words.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath in, I try my best to steady myself, but nothing seems to work.
Together, they both take a hold of me, causing me to gasp, as both sets of eyes dart down to my lips.
I feel my face turning red as I look down, staring at the chipped white paint on my toenail, wondering how long it’s been since I last got a pedicure done.
As both brothers guide me towards the bath, I can’t shake away the feeling of entrapment.
The madness of this entire situation is so heavy that I feel like I can no longer breathe.
Shallow gasps escape me as I close my eyes, submerging my body into the warm water, praying that I’ll wake up any second now, back in my new place, with my family by my side.
But when I open my eyes again, they’re still here, watching me.
I zone out as I think back to Papa, and to Dario. I wonder whether they’ll ever find me. I wonder whether I’ll ever go back home to them. My heart aches with the loss of my family.
I have no idea how much longer I’ll be able to hold onto myself before I become something else—someone my captors want me to become. This madness will never end, and I don’t know how much more I can bear.
They’re still here, and I’m still trapped.
I’m still theirs.
As they switch the tap off, they both dip their hands into the water, pouring it onto me, getting every single inch of my body wet. I shiver against the warmth of the water, and neither one of them misses it.
As their hands trail all over my body, their breathing becomes heavy.
I try my best to control my own as their palms swipe all over me—down my neck, across my breasts, lower towards my stomach, inside my inner thighs—but I fail miserably.
A small smirk plays on Mikhail’s lips as he pulls away from me, unbuttoning his shirt before he throws it to the floor, flashing his pearly whites at me.
“It’s only fun if one of us is getting wet, beauty.”
I curl my bottom lip into my mouth, feeling my throat close up.
Beside him, Nikolai shakes his head as he reaches out for a new bottle they’ve brought in today, and after he’s squeezed a small amount of it onto his palm, he rubs it into my hair. My eyes flutter shut as he works the shampoo into my roots, then I open them again to look over at him.
“I need more.” I tell him quietly, then I bite down almost immediately when I realise how that must sound to their ears.
And considering the way Mikhail chuckles, and the way his tattooed fingertips inch closer and closer to me down there, I know what he’s thinking.
I ignore him though. “The shampoo; it’s not enough. ”
Nikolai’s eyes meet mine, a small dip appearing between his brows.
“This is how much I use when showering.”
My throat begins to feel a little tight but I force myself to continue speaking.
“My hair is longer though. If you had long hair like me, then you would need more too.”
Nikolai’s lips part as if he finally understands what I’m saying, and he nods his head at me.
Mikhail thinks this is the perfect time to butt in too.
“Give our lady what she wants.”
My breathing speeds up as Nikolai does as Mikhail says, squeezing some more shampoo into his palm as he runs it through my hair.
His fingers work in my hair, massaging my scalp as he makes sure to spread it evenly all around my head.
I sigh heavily as I close my eyes, tipping my head backward a little, finally feeling relaxed after spending so many days on edge here.
Mikhail’s fingers grow more daring. They inch further down my inner thighs, practically touching me there.
I take a sharp breath in, feeling a faint throbbing sensation between my legs, as he drags his fingertips along my slit.
I keep my eyes squeezed shut as Mikhail slips one finger through my folds, dragging it upward until he has his knuckle pressed to my clit.
I squirm.
Another hand creeps higher to my breast, a single digit now swirling along my tight nipple.
The fingertip draws small circles on my hard nub, and the sensation of it goes straight to my core.
The same attention is given to my other breast too, and since there’s now four hands in total all over my naked body.
My breathing turns heavy as my lips part open, and I find myself gasping with pleasure now.
They pinch my nipples, tug on them too, as they cup my breasts in their palms. My legs are spread apart, and more fingers are on me now. They rub my clit, small circles and pinches which make me gasp, and a finger slips inside me too, stretching me wide open for more.
“Look at her.” One brother says. “How beautiful does she look like this?”
I whimper at his words, losing myself to the darkness behind my eyelids, and their touches too.
A soft murmur of words are passed between them, now Russian, then they both laugh softly.
“What do you think?” The other brother asks. “Should we let her come?”
My eyes fly open as he says that, my bare chest heaving.
I roll my hips against his fingers, a small moan escaping my lips at how good he feels against me there.
The expressions on both of their faces darken, but I don’t care. They started this, so now, they’ll need to end it too.
“Yes!” I cry out, my hands going to either one of their wrists, my fingers tightening around them. “Let me come!”
Nikolai pinches my nipple hard, and I moan out in pain.
Mikhail rubs the pad of his thumb against my clit, and I suddenly feel so lightheaded, so ready to break for them both.
“Tell us that you’re ours.”
Mikhail says, a dark look in his eyes.
“Admit that you belong to us.”
Nikolai adds, his expression hard.
I breathe out through my mouth as I shake my head, knowing that I’ll never utter those words.
“Never.”
Together, their breathing changes too, and as if something inside me has snapped, I realise how big of a mistake I’m making.
I push them both away from me, forcing them to remove their hands from my naked body.
Luckily for me, they don’t make it hard.
I blink, breathing heavy, my eyes darting between both of them.
Was I really going to…?
I shake my head, ignoring that question. Ignoring all of it.
As I ignore the look on their faces—the shock, the surprise, the smirks—I pull the plug, and I let the water drain. I begin to run the bath again, but only so I can wash the shampoo that’s been left in my hair.
I don’t really need to do much at all. Because as soon as I’ve even tried to, they’re there.
Together, they help me clean up.
They speak to me in a mix of both English and Russian, and I shudder each time they glance over at me, offering me nothing but secret smiles on their identical faces.
My mouth becomes dry as I squeeze my legs together.
What is happening to me?