Page 46 of The Last Hope

It had been two months since our first meeting, and ever since, he hadn’t left me alone. Texts and calls at all hours, insistently asking to see me—I didn’t even know how he got my number. The man was insane.

I didn’t like him. He exuded danger, something that sent chills down my spine. He wouldn’t stop sending flowers every day, showing up at the hospital unannounced just to see me.

I had refused him every time, making up the most ridiculous excuses, but he was like a relentless Doberman, never letting go.

By the time he reached me, his usual smug smile was already in place.

“Selina, you’re as breathtaking as the first time I laid eyes on you,” he said, reaching up to touch the end of my braid resting on my shoulder. I pulled back instinctively, avoiding his touch.

“What are you doing here ?” I asked, my eyes darting around the empty lot, searching for anyone who could help me if things went south. But there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“You haven’t been answering my messages,” he said simply, as if that justified his presence.

Anger simmered beneath my skin. I clenched my fists, my patience wearing thin.

“Listen, Mr. Rasili, like I told you the first time you asked, I have no interest in seeing you for any reason. If you continue harassing me like this, I will call the police.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his eyes gleaming with something sinister. My stomach twisted as dread settled deep inside me. I was about to take a step back when, in an instant, my body slammed against a parked truck.

My bag and keys slipped from my hands.

His fingers tightened around my throat, cutting off my air.

“Ah, Selina… I can’t wait to own you,” he whispered, his lips brushing from my temple down to my cheek as I struggled against his grip. Black spots danced in my vision as I fought to breathe.

“You will belong to me, Cara mia. Your body and your soul. You’ll be mine.”

His lips inched closer to mine.

No.

A scream—one I barely recognized as my own—ripped from my throat as I drove my knee upward, striking him between the legs with every ounce of strength I had left.

A groan of pain left him as he staggered back, his hands clutching his groin.

I grabbed my things and ran, my breath ragged, my chest burning. The hospital entrance was my only goal.

But then, behind me, a chilling laugh echoed in the darkness.

And I felt the monster’s breath at my nape.

The cold water did nothing to rid me of the filth I felt clinging to my skin.

Rafael had finally fallen back asleep after I sang to him, holding him close.

I turned off the water, but my son’s words replayed in my mind like a haunting melody.

“He won’t use his belt on Mamma anymore, right ? She won’t scream?”

A choked sob escaped before I could stop it. I clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling the sound.

My baby.

He had witnessed too much, suffered too much. And I didn’t know how to help him forget.

I exhaled slowly, reaching for a towel and drying myself quickly before slipping on a pair of underwear, then a loose paire of shorts, and a tank top that belonged to Elif. It was too tight around my chest, but I didn’t care.

Wiping away the steam on the mirror, I grimaced at my reflection. Red-rimmed eyes, fading bruises, a swollen lip—I was a walking disaster.

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