Alessandra

As soon as Dimitri throws me on the floor, he exits the room and shuts the door. And I hear a click sound—indicating that he has locked the door.

Not only am I being engulfed by the wedding dress I'm wearing, but the darkness and silence engulfs and swallows me into a world of unknown.

Deciding I've had enough, I strip out of the puffy dress—remaining only in my bra and panties. Removing the heels, my feet are pierced and numbed by the sudden coldness of the floor.

I leave the dress lying on the floor and don't bother to fold it up neatly, because it just reminds me of this entire marriage that I had no say in.

Seating on the cold floor, I remember Dimitri's threatening and taunting words.

This place better be clean by the time I come back or else.

I roll my eyes in annoyance. I don't want to be here in the first place. Now I'm being ordered to clean like I'm a maid?

As degrading as that might sound, it's the truth. I'm not a maid. I don't dust, mop or sweep. I don't do things for people, and even if I do—a 'thank you' is always required.

Being the daughter of a Mafia Don not only means that I go for training, or go for gala's and balls. It also means I get spoiled too.

Rotten.

Yes, I'm admitting it. I live; used to live that is, a very privileged life. I've had maids do the cleaning and the cooking for me—its normal to me. The only chore I ever did was doing my own room. But that was because I hate people touching my stuff.

But now, I'm being forced to become accustomed to a life I know nothing about. A life I've never lived. And I life I did not plan to live.

So I refuse to clean. Not because I don't know how to, or because Dimitri told me to do it therefore I wont. But I refuse because I am now making it my mission to piss everyone in this damn house the fuck off.

I then curl up in a ball and take the wedding dress to use as a pillow. The pain in my neck begins to resurface, but this time—ten times worse.

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to suppress the pain. My eyes are shut so tightly together tears begin to splash the corners of my eyes.

Or maybe it's just me crying—but not because of the pain in my neck.

I begin rocking my body back and forth. Whimpering. And my torso is most probably going to be black and blue because of the stone floor I'm rocking on.

I bring my arm up, and place my hand onto my neck. My fingers graze over my bruised skin; and I can feel popped up bulging veins and my swollen lymphs nodes.

It's going to be okay.

I'll be fine.

I'll find a way to escape.

I repeat that over and over again in my head. My breathing becomes shallow and once again the black dots appear.

It's going to be okay...I'll be fine... I'll find a way to escape...

I-I'll b-be f-fine...

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First off my Shmittypadders! Thank you so so much for 200+ reads in just two weeks. I love every one of you silent readers. Second; what do you think of this chapter and oof—Alessandra is in so much pain.

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And I oop!