ROMAN'S P.O.V
I knew it was coming before it did, so I was able to school my face into a mask of impassiveness at the pain that followed.
“Stupid, useless boy,” Elio growled, his voice raspy from too much smoking.
I kept mute, talking in such a time would only make my situation more precarious, he wanted me to be immune to beatings and harsh words, thus my everyday of training, and the slightest, most smallest f**k up? I was either faced with whipping, hunger, or verbal abuse.
The latter was the worst, because Elio's form of verbal abuse was the worst thing a man, let alone a fourteen-year-old child, should experience.
His belt landed on my bruised ribs. Okay, that hurt. A shaky sound escaped my throat. Elio towered before me, looking bigger than life, one day, just one day, I promi
