OCEANE
Heaving in short and fast breaths, I lean against a wall, my fingers digging into my chest. It hurts so bad. My head, my chest, my legs—every part of me is in dire pain.I think I lost him. Finally.I’ve been running for so long—too long that I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’ve been running for so long that even the night has caught up with me.“Just a little bit longer.” I encourage myself. Shutting my eyes tightly, I drag in a long breath, exhaling shakily. I spin on my heels to begin walking when I bump into something rigid. Something hard. Something with a heartbeat. Something with a pulse.Realization hit me. It’s not a something, but a someone.“Did you have a swell time?” He questions, his cold eyes trained intently on me, his lips stretched into a grin.My bones wobble.I almost scream out a series of curse words but force myself to silently take whatever life throws at me. I know it in the back of my mind how much I’ve tested this man’s patience, but here I am, still breathing.Alive and unwell. Still, alive.When there’s life, there’s hope.Angioletto leans his shoulder against the wall, his eyes, narrowed, glistening with mischievous excitement, looking down at me. “I would never have guessed these tiny legs would turn out to be this fast.” He jests, chuckling through each word.“Do you want to go again? I had so much fun chasing you through the woods. And I must say, I’ve never felt so alive in such a long time.”“How are you not even tired?” I ask through heavy breaths.“Easy. I’ve worked so hard on building my stamina. My hard work is finally paying off, don’t you think?”I roll my eyes, proclaiming. “I’ll kill you one day.” It’s my way of expressing my hatred towards the brooding young man.Does he care that I hate him? The look of amusement that marries his features is all the answer I need. Angioletto’s response to my soft spoken threat, is a snorted laugh. “So? What do you say we keep going?”“You’ll give me a head start?” I quirk a questioning brow at him and he nods.“Mmhmm.”I nod. “Count to ten.” My tone of voice commanding. The brooding man surprisingly obeys, scoffing before turning around to begin the countdown.“One.”“Two.”“Three.”“Four. . .”I quietly dash towards the opposite direction, making sure my breathing is at a controlled pace and my feet patters light against the ground.I almost silence my own self in order to get away from this monster.My chest hurts, my throat is dry, my feet are aching, burning from the several scratches, but I don’t stop running.I run as though my life depends on how fast my legs move. I run with one purpose and one purpose only. To get away from Angioletto.Fear eats at my soul, but I run.I feel his shadow catching up to me, but I run even faster.This act, as painful as it is, provides me with the calmness my soul craves.By the time I make my way out of the jungle and into the road, I decide against running anymore. This is no longer fun.Cold chills course through my bones when I take in my surroundings. It’s dark, eerily quiet, without a single breathing soul in sight.Tears sting at the corners of my eyes.He’s nowhere to be seen, the man who hunts me but I feel him in my soul. I can feel him lurking in the shadows. I almost scream at him to come out and put me out of my misery. But I don’t.Again, this is no fun.I’m tired, hungry, and my feet hurt.Leaning my back against a wall, I shut my eyes and calm myself, allowing the nightly breeze cascade through my skin while I enjoy my freedom.My short lived freedom.It’s not until five minutes later that I hear the deep rumble of his voice, his breathing calm and sharp, his hum soothing, and his chuckle taunting.He found you. My head voice singsongs, causing my lips to stretch into a smile.I had hoped he’d find me.I don’t open my eyes nor acknowledge his presence. I stay silent and unmoving.I’m almost at the verge of sleep when I feel him lift me off the ground fireman style. “So fragile.” I hear the deep rumble of his voice and that is all I remember before I drift into the realm of unconsciousness.. . .“She requires your presence.” I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me. I whip my head to the side so fast that my neck almost snaps in half.She’s covered in blood and sweat.I run. I run so fast and I don’t stop until I’m kneeling by my mother.“Did you make your father angry again?” She breathes out. I don’t answer. I’m too focused on how weak she looks to even provide her an answer.“Oceane.” She whispers.“Oceane.”“Oceane.”“Miss!”I jump awake, screaming, panting, clawing at my neck. I look to the side only to be met by a startled look thrown my way.It’s a young girl. Not as young as me, but young.Is she a maid?“It’s time for a bath, Miss.” Her voice slightly escapes a whisper. I shake my head in disagreement. “It’s an order from the boss. Plus, whatever activity you indulged in last night left you looking all filthy. Very unladylike if you ask me.”True.I shoot her a glare. The lady gulps thickly, as if afraid of what I might do to her. She shifts from one foot to another when she continues speaking. “Your dresses will be laid out by the time you finish in the bathroom. You can take your pick.”“Okay.” It’s a tiny whisper of my voice. I limp into the bathroom and begin discarding my clothes when I hear my door creak open. The knowing that the monster who took me hostage is walking into my private space without as much seeking permission aggravates me.Discarding my dress and undergarments, I gently get into the bathtub, sighing in relief at the feel of the water against my bare skin.This feels good.Knock. Knock. Knock.Three soft knocks resound from the other side of the bathroom’s door.I don’t speak.“Hurry up in there, munchkin, your breakfast will get cold.”“Go away!” I bellow.I hear him chuckle. “Why so grumpy this morning, huh?” He taunts and for some reason, tears brim my eyes.Dealing with this man has become so infuriating. So nerve wracking. It drives me out of my mind.His mind games are beginning to get to me and it’s scary. He talks when I don’t want him talking, laughs at everything my mouth elicits. He mocks me. Makes a joke of my existence.I loathe it.Dragging in sniffle, I say, “please leave me alone. I’m so tired.” My voice gives me away, cracking through each word. I let go, allowing the tears at the brim of my eyes flow.Rope after rope of sorrow, pain and hatred. I let it flow.The need to feel something forces me to submerge myself underneath the bubbling water.I submerge myself and stay underneath for long minutes until I’m at the edge of passing out.And when I rise, I’m met with complete silence, except, I know he’s still by that door. He doesn’t speak, but I hear the uneasiness of his breathing. I feel the tension radiating off him.“I got you a book.” He finally breaks the silence, causing my lips to stretch into a smile.“You did?” I giggle and a deep rumble of a hum reverberates from him.“Thank you.”“You’re welcome.”Another wave of silence encases us, but this time, the silence is calming to the soul. So relaxing.I scoff.He breaks the silence again. “What would you like to do today?”“Uhm. . . I’ll read the book you got me.”I hear him chuckle. “I have a place, a penthouse, it’s quiet and serene. Would you like to come with me? It’ll just be the two of us and I’ll be working the whole time.”I contemplate for a few minutes before answering. “Okay.”“Good. I wasn’t asking anyway.” He replies.I groan.Who’s this man?“Could you step out of the room? I need to be out and you’re not allowed to see me.”He doesn’t say a word when he throws the door open, slamming it behind him.Is he angry?. . .Minutes after I’ve finished dressing up, the door is pushed open, Angioletto walking in with a food tray in hand.He has his eyes trained on mine as he lowers the tray onto the table.“You should eat, or would you like me to feed you?” He suggests. I stare at him blankly, wondering what goes through his head most of the time.My tone of voice whispery when I answer, “You have to leave, sir, give me some privacy. I don’t perform well around strangers and it doesn’t help that you make me so nervous.”His demeanor changes. He takes a couple of steps forward. I back away, unable to say anything to keep him away considering how stubborn he can be. He moves forward again, and I back away. Perfectly arched brows shoot up as if challenging me when he takes the third step forward. Fearful of what he might do to me, I don’t make a mistake of moving. I quietly let him close the distance between us until he’s standing toe to toe with me.“I make you nervous, sí?” He breathes almost angrily. I hum in response. “How’s that? How do I make you nervous, my sweet, little, Oceane?”“I don’t know. . .” I stutter, pursing my lips nervously. Angioletto takes a step forward, his lips stretched into a curious smile. Exhaling a breath through my lips, I take a step backwards, creating some sort of distance between the both of us.“Just because I’m your hostage and no matter how good you treat me, I still find that being around you unsettles me.” I explain. My words, perhaps funny to the gentleman, draws an amused chuckle from him.“Is that what you want? For me to give you space? You want me to stay away, munchkin?”I nod, “Yes.”He shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with me. “And you think I’d agree to this?”“Just please, Mr. Angioletto. I’m so tired, so stressed out. Everything here is so different and infuriating. I just want to be by myself.”“What does that even mean?”“It means I’m living amongst strangers!” I scream, causing his eyes to darken.He drawls his question. “Again Oceane, is this what you really want?”I puff out an exhausted breath. “Why do you keep asking this?”“Because I’m giving you the freedom to choose.”Mockery filled laughter ripples out of my throat. “Do you really care about what I want or are you just desperate to get a reaction out of me? Is this one of your numerous mind games? Does my pain and misery bring you so much joy?”“Watch your tone, munchkin.” His voice a monotone, warning laced in his tone of voice.I breathe exasperatedly. “Or what?! What are you gonna do? My life was already bad as it was before you came in and took me away from my family, forcefully might I add! What do you expect from me?” Tears stream down my face. “Do you expect me to be grateful for your generosity? You’re still my captor and no good deed from you would ever change what you truly are! So if it’s my suffering that brings you peace, then go ahead and make me suffer! I’m all yours!”If I thought his eyes were ice cold and dark before, then I haven’t met this side of him. It’s as though my words snapped something in him. His jaw is clenched tight, teeth grinding, nose flaring, eyes twitching irritatedly.He’s so different. Strange. Scary.I back away from him the slightest bit. Again.“If I were desperate to get a reaction out of you, if I were desperate to see you suffer, munchkin, I’d lock you up in a dark room with my dog and I’ll watch as he rips you apart piece by piece. Little by little. On my command.” He growls in my face. “And the fun part is when I bask in the calmness your screams of terror will provide. Or when I bask in joy the beautiful vibrant red color your blood splatter would bring me, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it except cry, scream and thrash around. Stop fucking acting like there’s anything special about you.”His words are like sharp edges of knives cutting through my skin. Like a slap to my face. How can he be so nice to me this minute and still treat me like I’m worth nothing the next?He steps forward again, this time gripping my chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing me to look up at him.“One more thing, munchkin, I don’t need you telling me you belong to me, because you became mine the moment I laid eyes on you. Do you understand?”Tears brim my eyes but I don’t let it flow as we both stare at each other in complete silence.He breaks the silence. “Eat your fucking food and get ready quickly, we leave in five minutes. Not a minute later.” He sterns, turning around and storming out of the room.This will surely be my doom.ANGIOLETTOIt is considered a deformity to be fixated on a particular person or object. It is a deformity to be narrow minded. It is a deformity to only find psychological fulfillment from just one person.My therapist had so many words to describe my obsessive tendencies. But right now, all I want is to live with that deformity for the rest of my life.My new obsession. A beauty to behold. From the moment I set eyes on her, from dusk to dawn, every day since I’ve had her under my care, she has been imprinted in my DNA.A part of me and I have no complaints.She’s my obsession, constantly pouring through my soul like a soothing cold breeze that leaves me longing for more.“Oceane Augustin.” I test out the feel of her name on the tip of my tongue while I watch her through the cameras.Yes, my penthouse has security cameras placed in every corner, all of which are connected to the big screen in my room—for security reasons of course.Except now, it’s serving other purposes.It’s not tha
ANGIOLETTO When I received a text from my father informing me of this meeting, I knew something was off. I knew it had something to do with my hostage, and now, I’ve confirmed my suspicions to be true. Thirty minutes have I been here, still, there've been no words spoken, just the continuous rise in the tension radiating off of each person in the room. Mio padre, his first son, Massimo, and his second son, Antonio. “How have you been?” My older brother—Massimo questions, his eyes, as dark as the midnight, burning holes through my skull, reminding me that his question, as sweet as it might sound, is far from him merely inquiring about my physical state. “Fine.” I simply answer, gaining a unified hum from all three of the men. “Haven’t you been getting enough sleep? Your eyes are really sunken.” Mio padre further asks. Completely aware that his question springs from a place of genuine concern, I answer in a soft voice. “Sto bene, padre.” He nods. “What about Dumont Augustin, has
OCEANE Growing up, I wasn’t so good at a lot of things. Speaking, fencing, fighting, using a gun, I failed at so many things until the passing of my mother. After my mother had passed on due to my father’s selfishness and carelessness, I began to push myself into becoming better at the things I failed at. My mother’s passing was my motivation. It was only then that I realized all I had was me. Just me, alone in this wicked world. I could no longer condone my weakness. I could no longer leave myself vulnerable. I could no longer allow myself to be a prey in the midst of predators. I worked hard. Still, I failed. I was just a failure. I was just a girl who couldn’t grow taller than 5’2. I was significantly smaller than girls my age and it was to my disadvantage. My father’s hatred towards me only intensified after my series of failures and he began to take his abuse to the next level. His abuse was no longer verbal but physical, emotional, and mental. He’d hit me, force me in
ANGIOLETTO There are five stages of grief. Denial and Isolation. Anger. Bargaining. Desperation. And lastly, Acceptance. In the last seventy two hours, I’ve been roped into, and have suffered with great intensity each stage of grief respectively. While I was in denial, I couldn’t believe that my beautiful, little Oceane had left me without as much a goodbye note. She stole all my money, stole my car, and left, and I sat there in my room, watching all of it unfold before my own eyes. And then denial morphed into anger. I was aggravated, Infuriated, irritated. I lost my mind the minute she walked out my door. I was roped into intense anger that I didn’t realize when I had begun ruining everything until my penthouse was turned upside down. That was before I began to physically harm myself. I needed to feel something other than anger. Hurting myself physically was my last resolve. I blamed myself for allowing my brother’s words get to me. I am no logical thinker. I have never be
OCEANEOne month later.It was a surprise, the turn of events when I had returned to my captor one month ago. While I contemplated returning and giving myself back to him, I thought he would be livid. I believed that I was going to be punished severely for running away, but that wasn’t the case.The brooding man hugged me. Embraced me.Soothed me.And then later declared that I could do what I’ve been desiring for the longest time. Go to school.I couldn’t believe it, and so, I continued to ask him if he was sure for days until the day I was finally enrolled.The experience and excitement I felt was out of this world and it took a lot of restraint for me not to throw myself into Gio’s arms and thank him.His kindness towards me only continued to grow like he was desperate to be in my good books. He perhaps felt bad for me after I lost my entire family the way I did.A few days after my enrollment, Gio had packed up a few things and left his penthouse.‘Hey baby girl, it’s quite unfort
OCEANE It is the soft meow of a cat that has me grumbling and turning in bed. There are no pets in the penthouse, not even Angioletto’s infamous dog. So, when the continuous meowing of a cat doesn’t stop, I’m suddenly thinking that I might be having a vivid dream. “Angioletto speaking.” I hear that ever so familiar deep voice. I’m definitely having a dream. A good kind. “I just returned to Italy a few minutes ago and you’re already calling over an issue as little as this?” It’s an angry growl of his voice. I slowly pry my eyes open with a sigh, screeching as I stretch, toss and turn. My lips stretch into a smile when I look out my window, enjoying the feel of the morning sun against the glass. But I’m startled when I hear a deep rumble of a hum. A hum I’ve become accustomed to. Then the meowing resumes. I’m definitely not dreaming. Too apprehensive, I wait without looking to my right where I can certainly hear continuous hums. The hums are low, low enough not to hear him but d
ANGIOLETTO Growing up, life wasn’t very easy for me. No father figure, a drug addicted whore as a mother—the list of the difficulties I had faced very early on in life could go on and on. Those were the times when I had believed life to be extremely complicated. But when I joined La famiglia, I learnt that life is just as straightforward as it can get. It’s either this or that. Win or lose. Stay or go. Live or die. Succeed or fail. And the outcome of one’s life is solely dependent on choice, except of course the freedom to choose between life and death. I was a serial failure. I failed at a lot of things, a lot of times, because I had developed the mindset of a failure. I still wallowed in misery, blaming life and all of its elements for the pains and sufferings I had to endure. Mio padre and my brother’s were there for me in ways that I’d never forget. Most times, they would give me closure, reassurance and validation—hugs and all. And other times, they were fierce. They w
ANGIOLETTO An eventful morning it was. Watching my Oceane stir awake from sleep, having been graced by her first smile of the day after a month, sitting through an interesting, soul calming breakfast with her, and of course spending hours at the vet, getting tons and tons of items required to properly nurture her kitten. It was a good morning. And now, during the early hours of noon, I’m seated in the backseat of my car with my Oceane while my driver takes us back to my penthouse. The silence is quite comfortable, considering how I’m not a fan of talking and my Oceane doesn’t seem to be in the mood. “Gio?” Her tiny, sweet, melodious, delicate voice breathes out my name and God the feeling is amazing. So amazing I have to shut my eyes and allow it settle in before humming in response. “Why are you nice to me?” Through the corner of my eyes, I stare at her, observing the downturn of her face. She’s not in a good mood and I can do nothing but wonder who would dare upset my little