Page 18 of Merciless Queen
It would be easy to kill myself and end the constant screaming in my head, to silence the demons that would haunt me forever, but Lizzy was the only reason I was not going to attempt it. I told her I would be strong, but fuck, was it harder than I thought. Surviving was fucking hard, and I was so goddamn tired already. It’d only been four days since I’d been brought here, and tonight was the first full day that I was awake.
But this was just the beginning.
The water turned to ice, and I finally peeled myself off of the shower tile and got out, wrapping a fluffy, white towel around my body. I still felt revolting, but it was a feeling that wouldn’t leave with a simple shower, no matter how long I scrubbed my skin. I was trapped for ten excruciatingly long years, deprived of basic human necessities because Vincenzo had a sordid obsession and fucked-up fantasy life involving me.
I would never have a normal life, and I would never forgive my father for ruining our lives. Why couldn’t he deal with his own consequences instead of involving us? Better yet, why couldn’t he not get involved in the first place? I wished I could go back in time and kill my father before all of this happened, but this was reality, and I had to live with my father’s actions so my life could go on the correct path.
This was not the future I spent years obsessing over. I had goals, aspirations, and plans on how my life would go. Detailed vision boards about art and teaching with the best colleges in highest paying states. I knew the future I wanted, but like my innocence, it was ripped from my hands.
Tired of my self-loathing, I rewrapped my wound carefully and got ready for bed. After sliding into a baggy nightgown that draped down to my ankles, I crawled back into bed. I’d slept for almost two days, but I felt like fatigue had embedded itself into my very core, making me numb. Everyone kept saying I would be okay, but their words fell on deaf ears. I was lost in a fog ofdespair, struggling to imagine a future where my life was better, but that felt like a distant dream.
I pulled the comforter tightly around me, enveloping myself in heavy, blanketing warmth. The weight was constricting, yet comforting like a cocoon. I’d like to pretend I could sleep peacefully, but that was like wishing for a snowstorm in a desert. The quiet was a battlefield, and the only reason I slept as long as I did was because of the blood loss. My mind was a constant warzone trampled with restless thoughts and screaming demons, leaving me searching for elusive peace.
His footsteps were a dreadful cadence of sounds. There was no escape. I was trapped. I was a defenseless pawn in his sadistic games. He would find me. He would always find me.
“Did you think you could escape me, you fucking whore?” His presence was suffocating. Excruciating pain shot through my scalp like a thousand tiny needles. As he closed in, the lingering darkness swallowed all hope as the cold grip of terror consumed me. “You belong to me. Every part of you is mine.”
No one escaped.
Why did I think she could save me from him? What Vincenzo wanted, he got. I would never be free. This was my life, trapped in the chains of my tormentor, no matter where I went or who tried to save me.
He dragged me through glass and who knows what else, the sharp debris tearing into the skin of my legs and back. “Vincenzo, please. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll show you how sorry you’re going to be.”
No, no, no!
Vincenzo!
Stop. Please!
I screamed, my eyes flying open and meeting pools of green.
CHAPTER 13
Caterina
As I scrunched my curls,letting them cascade down my back like an onyx waterfall, I stared into the mirror and couldn’t help but see my mother’s reflection looking back at me. She was a piece of me, and that was the greatest gut-wrenching punch because it was a constant reminder of how much I missed her. She never would have wanted this life for me, and my desire for revenge was screaming louder than her tainted memory. My mother, Savina Rossi, was the perfect wife. A spitfire, according to my father, but she was obedient, loyal, and beautiful. My mother stood proudly by my father’s side and ruled as an equal, not just his wife. Others thought it made him weak, brainwashed in the female gaze, but my mother wasn’t afraid to kill someone if it meant protecting the family.
Savina Rossi evoked fear, making even the strongest men fall to their knees, until she had me, and then she took her seat as homemaker. My mom didn’t like the stereotypes put in place for women and girls in the mafia, but she wanted me to have a perfect life. My thoughts drifted back to Harlow. This woman was supposed to be my vengeance, and here I was, letting her sleep in my house. I could kill her if I truly wanted to since heseemed to be attached to her, but she didn’t choose this life. From what Elizabeth told me, she and her mother were both taken as a debt because of the girl’s father.
Men.
Always ruining everything because they thought they were all powerful.
I pulled on a long t-shirt that reached mid-thigh and swept my damp curls over my shoulder. The day had drained me, and the thought of tomorrow promised worse. Tomorrow I was telling Harlow she would marry me, which was taking the control she needed to regain for herself, but it was the only way to keep her safe. I was being selfish—I could admit that. I should’ve let her go, let her live the life she’d been deprived of, but I’d never been a selfless woman. This was for my own gain, but she would be protected regardless.
A scream echoed down the hallway, and I rushed to her door, kicking it open. Adrenaline pumping through my veins, ready to kill someone. But when I burst into the room with such force, the door ricocheted back and I found Harlow alone, tangled in her blanket and struggling to free herself. Her pale face was flushed with fear, but there was no real danger—only her fighting her sheets, attempting to escape a nightmare.
“Stop, Vincenzo. I’m sorry!” An ear-shattering scream escaped her lips, and she jolted up out of her bed, sobbing. It alerted the entire floor, and I had men running to my side with guns drawn. I lifted my hands, and they dropped them. She heard the commotion and looked at us, instantly covering her chest. “I-I’m sorry...”
“Go back to your rooms. I can handle this,” I told them as I stepped into her room, closing her door. “It’s fine. They heard you scream, and they were ready to fight. Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “Am I ever going to be okay?” Her voice was weak, but snappy. She frowned, her brows furrowing. “I-I’m sorry.”
“No apology needed. Do you need anything?”She looked at me, her big, chestnut-brown eyes filled with fear. There was a question on the tip of her tongue, but she was afraid to ask. “What is it?”
“Can you stay?” she asked, her voice breaking and her cheeks turning a light pink. “I-I’m scared.” She wiped a tear that fell from her eyes. “Y-You don’t have to. I don’t know why I asked.” Harlow sounded defeated.How could she trust me when I wanted to kill her?
