Chapter 1 – The Genesis
Everything began like a crazy dream… Picture this..
I have just returned home from my stressful evening shift at the local diner where I work as a waitress who earns the stupidest amount you could ever think of. My leg aches, my stomach hurts. I just don’t feel good at all. It’s one of those crazily long days where all I want to do is get back to my apartment, take a cold shower and cry my eyes out about how shitty my life is. Might sound crazy, but somehow, these crying sessions always help me feel better enough to continue working the next day.
Now I’m already at my front door and the most unexpected thing happens. Just as I reach into my bag for my keys, I feel a hand over my nose and mouth. It happens so fast…. my brain can’t even catch up. It is the kind of situation that one would struggle to remember moments after, but not remember a thing.
I wake up to find my self in a moving van. I look around in confusion although my vision is very much blurry… maybe due to the throbbing ache I feel in my head. The floor of the van smells like diesel spilled on it, and I can also perceive the presence of dirty old clothes. The smell is so terrible that I can’t even breathe properly, and I’m thinking I just might pass out again. I’m not even trying to scream. I mean.. how could I with a duct tape across my mouth that tastes like glue and terror? A million and one thoughts are running through my mind as we drive into the darkness….”Are they organ harvesters”? “s*x traffickers, maybe”? I can literally feel my heart beating hard and unsteady against my chest.
The van finally comes to a halt, and I find myself in an estate that looks more like a fortress than a home. I have never seen anything like it in my entire 24 years of living. Just as the driver parks, a hand grabs the back of my shirt, lifting me up like a sack of grain and drags me like I weigh nothing. I stumble, my knees hitting the driveway which is leveled with gravel.
"She’s small," a male voice mutters.
"She’s the one," another one replies.
I am trying to not move at all, but they’re not having it. These men literally push me through a set of mighty oak doors, dragging my feet across marble floors that cost more than my whole life. They force me into a room lined with books and shadows and I’m just looking around like “where the f**k am I?” I fall onto a Persian rug, my chest feeling heavy as I stare at the complex designs on the floor.
"Leave us."
The voice was like velvet over a rock. Very deep, yet so quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you want to disappear into the floor.
The men who brought me storm out of the room and the heavy doors click shut behind them.
I can’t even look up, I am so frightened, and my head is still banging. With my peripheral vision, I see a pair of leather shoes walk towards me slowly. I squeeze my eyes shut, my entire body is trembling so hard, I can hear my teeth rattling. Then I feel “him” bend to my level. He slowly hooks a finger under the tape at the corner of my mouth.
“Hey”….
I gasp, feeling a shudder of cold and heat run through my skin at the same time. I don’t open my eyes… yet. I am so scared to my bones, I can’t even imagine what I would see if I open them. Then suddenly, a loud and agonizing sob breaks out of my throat. I start to fidget like a mouse caught in a trap.
"Look at me." He commands.
I keep my head down, with my chin tucked into my chest.
He grabs me by my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin, forcing my head up. I wince, my eyes watering as they meet his.
I look up, and God! He is beautiful. Beautiful in a way that feels dangerous. His cheekbones are sharp, he has blue eyes like the color of a sea at winter, and a mouth that looks like it hasn’t smiled since forever.
This is Dante Donovan, the only son of the Old Don “Romero Donovan”. This story is about me, and him, so sit tight while I tell you about how much of an asshole Dante is…...
He looks at me sharply, scanning my face, my trembling lips, and the tears that tracked through the dirt on my cheeks. Then he suddenly lets go of my face and stands up, wiping his hand on a silk handkerchief, as if he is disgusted by my sight.
"Pathetic," he says, flinging the handkerchief into a wastebasket.
“So this is what my father spent so much time looking for?. This bloody thing that looks like a broken toy."
I am trying to find my voice, but it was is behind all the tears in my throat. "Please, I don't... I don't know who you are." I whisper, with a cracked voice.
He steps closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. He leans down, leaving his face inches from mine, and the smell of his expensive perfume, tobacco and something cold hit me.
"I'm the man who owns you now, Selene," he says, his eyes going darker. "And by the look of those shaking hands, you’re going to be an annoyingly long project."
He reaches out, his thumb catching a stray tear on my cheek. Now I’m thinking “he’s going to wipe the tears away gently”, but instead, he smears it into my skin.
"Welcome home, Princess," he says with a wicked smile sitting on one side of his face. …..
