CHAPTER 3
I’m exhausted, miserable. My body aches as if I’ve been beaten to a pulp, and though it might have happened yesterday, I’m emotionally drained.
I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to hear Finn crying. I’m hungry, cold, and tired. I just want to rest. I want to call my mum or my sister.
Maybe the better option would have been to shoot me instead of letting me humiliate myself in front of him... but I can’t leave Finn. He only has me.
I’ve regretted having him every day since we came back from the hospital.
It’s not that I don’t love him—I do, so much that I know he does not deserve this kind of life.
I regret every day I didn’t give him to the nurses, or to Daniel, the guy who was with me at labour.
I still don’t know what he was doing there, but I can’t be thankful enough.
I was all alone, yet he stayed with me anyway.
I tried so hard to get an abortion, even if it killed me, but this little monster wanted to come out no matter the cost.
The car stops. I open my eyes as Dante opens the door and extends his hand to me.
“Welcome, ragnetta.”
My jaw drops when I stare at the house in front of me. It’s huge and cosy—I’d even say it looks like a family home, the opposite of what I would expect from a psycho who, less than two years ago, lived alone in a room barely big enough for a bed.
Unlike his flat, this house feels full of life. The grounds are lined with bushes and trees, flowers I don't recognise, a stable, a huge pool, and a vegetable garden.
Is it his? Or does he have someone else working for him? I don’t plan to ask, yet I can't help but wonder how someone as lethal as him could have a house so… normal? Cosy? Ordinary?
I get out of the car with Finn in my arms, refusing to take Dante’s hand. Alonso starts the engine and drives away.
I stand there, not knowing what to do. Leaving is not an option.
I can’t risk it right now, but I don’t want to go there and get locked in either.
I couldn’t climb the high fences surrounding the grounds fast enough, even without Finn in my arms. At the entrance are two thugs who make my hair stand on end.
They don’t resemble the people who hurt me so long ago, but they could very well do the same. If it were not for the vines and bushes outside, the entrance would look like a prison… and in a way, it is.
My stomach growls, and I curse on the inside. I can’t think when I’m starving.
“I’ll send food to your bedroom.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’d rather starve to death, thank you.”
He exhales and makes a small gesture with his hand. “Ladies first.”
I obey. I don’t care what happens to me, but I will not wake the monster, for Finn’s sake.
I stop in front of the door. Dante’s hand presses against my lower back, and a shiver runs through me. The butterflies, the jitters I once felt when I first met him, are long gone. He nudges me towards the stairs, and I focus on not being sick.
Once in the room, I stare at the bed. Would he be capable of forcing himself on me with Finn in my arms?
Is it wrong to think that, if he does, it would be better if he took me to another room?
If he tries something, I’ll suggest it. I’ll let him use me however he wants—as long as Finn isn’t harmed.
“Make yourself at home,” Dante says, nudging me inside.
“It would be better if—” He slams the door in my face before I can continue; I snort.
At least he didn’t force himself on you.
“Yet,” I reply to my conscience.
I reach out to lock the door, but he does it from the outside.
Bastard. He can come and go as he pleases. Even if I lock up from the inside, I won’t be safe. He’s trapping me just like my father did… though at least I can unlock the door.
Maybe he’s doing it to show me he doesn’t want to hurt me...
Yeah, right. He’s not that kind of person. He’s vile. He must be playing some kind of trick.
I hate that voice sometimes, though it helped to keep me sane (or something like that) all these months with Stefan.
A black blanket with reddish and golden details covers the bed. Beneath it lies a carpet in the same shades. Against one wall stands a table with two elegant, cushioned chairs. The room is a blend of black and dark brown. Then there’s the wardrobe, and beside it, the bathroom door.
Next to the bed, there is a co-sleeping cot with small stuffed animals and a baby mobile. It’s the only bright spot in the room.
My heart shrinks in disappointment. There was a time when I longed for this, but now it feels like part of a nightmare I can’t wake from.
I head to the bathroom for a towel, not pausing to take in what’s inside. I soak it in water and carry it back to the bed. Stripping Finn completely, I clean him with careful strokes. Once finished, I move to the wardrobe to see if there’s anything that fits him …
My chest tightens when I find clothes for a newborn. Even a little blanket that would’ve covered him perfectly.
Did he plan this from the moment I gave birth to Finn?… or are they from one of his victims?
Whatever was the reason, it is not something good! We must get out!
I shake my head and keep searching for clothes.
I find a pair of pyjamas with planes. According to the label, they’re for ten months old. He’s already too big for that size, but I don’t think twice—I dress him in it and lay him in the cot.
I undress and tie my hair into a bun before taking him back into my arms. I don’t want to stain him with… his father’s blood.
God, what kind of twisted mess has he dragged us into?
Finn reaches for my breast to feed, and I sigh. I wanted a quick bath, but it will have to wait.
My eyelids grow heavy, my body is numb, my throat sore. I want to sleep, but I refuse to surrender. The traitor could come in, take Finn, and I wouldn’t know until it’s too late.
As his hands trail over my body, I clutch my son tight. Whenever I’m with him, he doesn’t touch me or hit me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t order taking Finn away.
“You know you’re supposed to train that little bastard when he grows up?” he whispers against my ear. My stomach clenches, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’ll have to make him fuck you. I won’t rest until—”
“What do you want?”
He laughs, nudging at my entrance.
“Take him away until I’m done with you. If you keep snapping like that, I’ll fuck you in front of him.”
I obey. I place Finn in his cot, and he stays there, asleep.
Is this what my mum used to endure with us? Was this her life? Or worse? Is this how I’ll have to live the rest of mine?
“Hurry up!”
I close my eyes. It never gets any better. I wish I could stay with my baby all day, with no one bothering.
When I return to the room, Stefan rises and yanks my hair as he pulls me closer.
I hiss in pain.
“You didn’t make my dinner, you lazy whore.”
Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” I cry out. “Finn was hungry; I fell asleep. I’m doing the best I—”
He slaps me and I fall to the floor. He straddles me and hits my chest and ribs over and over. Then, he spits on my face and rips my dress.
This is his favourite thing to do.
“Thank me for not using you in front of our kid.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Again.”
He thrust into me, pinning my hands over my head. When I don’t respond, he bites my breast. They’re so tender from Finn that he tears the flesh.
“Thank you! Thank you for not using me… in front of Finn.”
“That’s better.”
He keeps torturing me, and I have to keep my mouth shut so my son won’t wake up.
I won’t let him hear me like I heard my mum.
“He wants him. He’ll do the same things daddy used to do to you. So be good and stay fucking still.”
Tears fall from my face. I want to throw up.
“I’ll be good, just please, don’t hurt him,” I plead.
He kisses my neck, moving over my body, touching me wherever he wants.
“You promise?”
You promise.
I asked Dante the same thing. He told me I would be safe, that I would be his… and his promise was just a lie.
I will never lie for my son.
“I promise. Do anything with m-me. Anything.”
His sick smile presses against my breasts. I hate to feel his skin against mine. I hate to feel all of him on me.
“If you insist…”
I jump awake to the knocking on the door. I look around, agitated, until I find Finn sleeping on my arm.
I let out a sigh of relief.
Someone knocks again. “I bring dinner.”
Dante’s voice churns my stomach.
He must have poisoned the food or put a sleeping pill in it so he can come and use you. Sick bastard.
Right. He could have done anything to carry on with his plans.
“I’m not going to eat.”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m naked.”
His deep laugh sends a shiver down my spine. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Oh. God.
My body betrays me, reacting to his words. I shouldn’t feel anything for him! He betrayed me. He lost me. Our past doesn’t exist. None of it. The only thing I know about him is that he’s a liar…
Right?
Yes. He left us!
“No,” I shout. “You can’t come in, and I’m not going to eat anything you give me. Leave me alone.”
He snorts. “As you wish.”
When I hear him walking down the stairs, I let out a heavy sigh. I am starving; I haven’t eaten since breakfast.
The clock on the table reads two a.m. Does he really intend to feed me now?
I leave Finn in the cot and rush into the bathroom.
I scrub again and again until my skin turns bright red. I use the cold water, so I don’t relax. If I do, I’ll fall asleep again, and I can’t let that happen.
He’ll take Finn. We need to keep him safe.
My stomach growls once more, and I moan in frustration.
There was food at home. It could have been my last meal, and it’s something I didn’t even like. I cooked it for Stefan—Shit, did I put out the fire? The house will burn down.
I stop. The water continues to fall on me.
Will I ever come back? Will I ever get my things back?
No. I’ve lost everything I had. I should be asking myself is whether I’m going to make it out of here. I can’t spend the rest of my life as a prisoner in this room. Dante will get bored at some point… and when that happens, he’ll either kill me or let me go.
I hope he’ll let me go.
After I finish washing, I look for pyjamas that will cover me… but I can only find lingerie and short silk dresses to sleep in. There’s nothing to cover my legs or arms.
This prick wants me wandering around the house naked for his entertainment. If he thinks this is going to stay like this, he’s wrong; I won’t fall for his dirty tricks. The only way he’s going to get anything from me is by forcing it.
I walk over to the bed and lie down next to Finn, stroking his hair and his soft little face.
How will I take care of him alone? What will happen to my life now? Stefan helped me all these months with him. He was a good father—or tried to be. He didn’t beat him; he bought him everything he needed and even spent time with him.
What am I supposed to do now when he was all the support I had?
I have nothing to give Finn in case we get out. I’ll be on the street, and I can’t even think about what I will do if I need money. I’ll ignore that until I’m dealing with the situation.
I must go to my parents. They will know what to do and how to help me.
Mum can take care of Finn while I go and earn some money any way I can.
My father might do things I hate again, but my son would be safe.
I don’t care how much I will have to endure, as long as he is safe.
We can keep it a secret. I’ll be more compliant.
Maybe that way, he’ll be more willing to do things for me. Maybe I can—
I shake my head. Why am I thinking like that? What have they done?
Am I really that desperate that I’m willing to be my father’s toy again? To just give myself up to my worst nightmare?
Am I really that desperate to just give up and let him win?
You could tie the bedsheets to the bed, toss them through the window, and climb down.
What about Finn?
Hold him or wrap him in something so he’ll be on your chest. Think, dammit!
I groan in frustration and drop my head back onto the bed. It’s risky, and I won’t hurt him.
Finn pats me, and it makes me smile. Every plan that comes to my mind has a “but”. All related to him. I can’t put him in danger, but neither can I stay here and risk something happening to him.
A knocking on the door startles me.
I snatch Finn up and reach for a pair of scissors lying around, pointing them at the door.
I haven’t gone back to sleep. I won’t take the chance of them taking Finn away from me. Over my dead body! I’m in a murderer’s house, with a murderer, and I don’t know how long it will be before he loses his mind and comes to kill us.
When that happens, you won’t go down without a fight!
“Hello?” a woman’s voice asks behind the door.
“Stay away!”
The door opens. A lady in her fifties is holding a tray of food. She has an awkward smile on her face and keeps a key in her apron. “I’m not armed; I just bring colazione7.”
With every step she takes, I take one back until I reach the bathroom door. She mumbles some Italian words, so I can't understand her.
She inches towards the small table, positioning the tray on top of it.
“I’m not hungry.”
My stomach growls at that very moment. I grimace, but she pays me no attention.
“One of the bowls is for il bambino8.” Her accent is thicker than Dante’s. “I’m Greta. I’m—”
“Thank you,” I reply through gritted teeth, still pointing the scissors at her.
“If you need me to look after him, I can—”
“I said, ‘Thank you.’”
She sighs, nods, and leaves, closing the door behind her.
I run to lock it again. They might come in, but they will not catch me off guard.
I stare at the food on the tray. It has toast, juice, and two bowls of cut and peeled fruit. Is it wrong for me to be so sceptical that I don’t want to eat any of it? Maybe she poisoned the food. It would not be a surprise if everyone in this house were out of their minds.
I move closer and bite into the banana. It tastes the same as always. Reluctantly, I hand it to Finn.
It’s poisoned!
It’s not. Now you’re not helping!
Whether I want it or not, we need to eat. My milk may not be enough to feed him properly at this point, and if he’s going to survive, I won’t starve him to death.
I don’t care what Dante has to say; I don’t care if he wants me to go downstairs.
I won’t get out of this room without a plan.
Notes:
7. Breakfast
8. The child.