11. Elena
Chapter eleven
Elena
My eyes snap open to a beeping sound.
I reach out to grab my phone from the nightstand, my eyes squinting at the sudden brightness.
It’s a text from Maya. “Hi Elena, trust you’re doing well?
About the incident with Louis, please don’t worry, you or your bodyguard are not in any trouble of any sort, especially since we’ve had several complaints about Louis from other clients.
I hope we can collaborate on other jobs in tranquility. Ciao!”
Sighing, I’m about to toss the phone away from me and return to sleep when another message notification pops up.
I’LL FIND YOU, AND WHEN I DO, I’LL COME FOR YOUR LIFE, PRETTY ROSSI. TICK TOCK…
Sweat rolls down my back as I immediately sit up and forward the message to Adrian. All my fucking life, I’ve been a victim of one thing or another. When does it fucking end?
My heart sinks, and I hold back tears as I think of when it all began.
It began with my father’s friends, who started showing interest in me when I was a pre-teen.
His favorite partner and one of the fiercest drug dealers in all of New York, Salvatore, was an ugly ogre who leered and whistled every single time he set eyes on me.
He once told my father that he wanted me for himself.
I didn’t understand what that meant until I turned twelve.
He’d come to the house and order me onto his lap. My boobs had just begun flourishing, and whenever he arrived, they were the first things he commented on. Father knew, yet he’d find a way to draw me out so I could greet his friend.
On my fourteenth birthday, Salvatore gifted me the most absurd gift a girl my age could receive. A pair of lingerie.
Of course, my father was only thinking of his empire and did absolutely nothing about it. But Melanie, my stepmother—mind you, she wasn’t the kindest person either—got so upset that she tossed it into the fireplace that night, but that did absolutely nothing to deter the bastard.
Soon, my father began sending me to Salvatore’s office after school with gifts. Salvatore would receive the gifts gladly, shut the blinds, and then pull out his dick.
He’d hand me a large lollipop and ask me to suck on it while he followed the same rhythm, touching himself until some white liquid spurted out.
The way his face would contort and his large palms would tug on his dick feverishly, I can never take that image out of my head.
One time when I was sixteen, Salvatore spanked me multiple times because Father had told him that I returned unusually late from school two days before.
Father implied I was having sexual relations at school, but I just wanted time alone.
Later in secret, Salvatore spanked me and said it was the punishment for my actions.
A tear slips down my cheek. Wiping it off, I take in deep breaths, but they do absolutely nothing to clear those gruesome memories. Maybe I should talk to Annora.
Picking up my phone from the nightstand, I dial her number, watching it ring until it drops straight to voicemail.
Puddles whimpers softly from his dog bed, climbing into mine to cuddle. I run a hand through his fur, suddenly feeling guilty for dialing Annora. After all, she has her own shit to deal with.
The only other option is to go for a run, but the last thing I want is for Adrian to be a couple of feet behind me when I’m trying to clear my mind.
He’d insulted me with the one word I hate. I should be fucking mad. And I mean, I am… but why the heck do I keep replaying the vulnerability in his eyes when he stroked my face…
Maybe because I’ve never seen him reveal that kind of emotion... Or maybe you’re simply going insane.
Heading to the bathroom, I take some mouthwash into my mouth, rinse, and splash some water on my face.
I hate that I have to listen to him, but I’m going to run within the villa. It is safer.
Giving Puddles one last pat on his head, I slip my feet out of my flip-flops and into my sneakers. He whimpers behind me as I walk through the door, but I quickly whisper to him that I’ll be back.
It’s only six in the morning, but the sun outside has already cast a glow over the villa. I close my eyes, breaking into a jog as those memories return to my head.
If I think about them when I run, I can imagine leaving them behind and running into a new world where I never have to whimper in pain as Salvatore romances my breasts and ass.
My father gained both respect and deadly connections because Salvatore was pleased with him, and we all benefited from it. But one day, when I found the courage to say no at sixteen, things suddenly changed.
My legs increase their pace as the events of that day come rushing back to me. I’d just returned home from school and met Salvatore in the living room as usual. He spread his arms out for me to come into his embrace, but I shook my head and stormed up the stairs.
My ass was still sore from where he hit me a few days ago, and somehow I knew that if I indulged him, he’d want to touch me again, so I simply walked away.
That night, Father stormed into my room and lashed me with his belt on my back, saying I had no right to ruin the relationship he’d built.
And from then on, that became his pattern.
If I didn’t do his bidding or tried to run to Bella for solace, he’d hit me on my back and tell me to do the only thing my beauty was useful for.
He didn’t care if they harassed or raped me.
Or maybe he told them to do anything but rape.
Thankfully, they never did, and I adapted. I had to.
At eighteen, I knew how to play with the men.
I knew the words to say, how to put them on a leash…
how to restrain them, but sometimes even that didn’t work.
Then I resorted to alcohol and partying to drown my sorrows.
Melanie couldn’t help me, and Father wouldn’t let me interact with my twin sister either.
He’d threaten me… threaten to hurt her if I ever interacted with her.
My hands suddenly flail out in front of me as I catch my foot on a thick, exposed tree root twisting through the garden path. I lose my footing, the sudden impact snapping the side strap of my shoe completely and ripping the fabric wide open.
“Ouch!”
“Miss Rossi!” One of the guards nearby rushes to my side, lifting me to my feet. “Easy.”
When I take in his face, my breath almost catches. Jet-black hair and a slightly crooked nose that gives him this nerdy handsomeness. I’ve seen more handsome people, but I’ve never seen a guard this fine… considering all the ones in New York look like Satan.
He eases his foot out of his shoe, helping me into it. Oh, and his shoes are unique, too.
“Wow. I’ve never seen sneakers in peach. I love them.”
“Get your fucking hands off her!” The guard is suddenly thrown off his feet. Adrian crashes on top of him, sending his fists into the guy’s face, yet again.
“Stop! He was trying to help,” I shriek, pounding my fists on Adrian’s back to stop him. It’s almost like hitting a rock. “Adrian, enough!”
His fist hangs in the air, his chest rising and falling rapidly like an angry beast.
“What the hell is your problem? Get a hold of your fucking temper!” I yell as the guard rises to his feet, scrambling away from us with his bloodied nose.
“No one touches you. That’s a fucking order.” His voice is low and shaking with fury.
My eyes narrow, fingers curling into fists. This man is insane.
“Enough with that controlling bullshit. It’s not like you own me. You’re just a bodyguard.”
“Exactly. For now, your survival lies in my hands,” he says, his voice chillingly low now. “And I’ll protect you in whatever way I deem fit. Conventional or not.”
I gasp when I see the expression in his eyes. Dark with something deadly swimming in them. Something that dares me to defy him.
Everything seems to be still as he trains an intense gaze on me.
“You need help.” That’s the only thing I can mutter.
Almost immediately, he closes the distance between us. We’re a hair’s breadth away from each other now, his eyes leaning down into mine, forehead touching mine lightly.
“Say that again, and I’ll bend you over and give these men a fucking show.”
My legs quake at the thought. Somehow, I know he’s not bluffing.
His face inches further into mine, and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips on mine. Instead, I feel his hot breath on my ear. And god, it’s even better.
My pussy leaks with moisture as he growls, “Take those ridiculous shoes off.”
My eyes snap open. “What!?”
“Now.”
“You arrogant piece of shit, I…” I suddenly feel myself lifted off the ground, and the shoes yanked off my feet. “What are you… put me down! Now!”
The smack on my ass shuts me up, heat flushing my cheeks.
“You were saying?” He snarls. I can hear the amusement in his voice, and just like that, I lose my ability to speak. “Words, Elena.”
“Just… just get me to the house.”
He carries me quietly to my suite, laying me gently on the bed like I’m some delicate chinaware.
“Get some sleep,” he says, walking out. It’s not until hours later that I open my eyes. I fell asleep all through the day like that.
Stretching my arms, I probe my feet around for my flip-flops when I hit something solid. Peeking down at it, my mouth falls open.
There are boxes of shoes in every color lining my room. A small note is taped to the first box. I pick it up, and it reads, “Every color you could ever want. So you never notice another man for any reason again.”