"This is the lord’s room. Make yourself comfortable,” Retchet told Rebecca, as they stopped in front of a door with various ‘Do Not Enter’ or ‘Keep Out’ labels right on it, complete with a barricade tape forming a large ‘X’ on it.
After walking up several steps from that meeting room, Rebecca had assumed she would be taken to the car to Christian’s house. Her hands were finally out of the cuffs on the walk up- most likely to avoid any suspicions when they exit out this hideout. She did not expect to just be taken to a different room on a different floor. Much less for the door before them to be one leading to Christian’s room.
Retchet noticed the perplexed expression and asked, “Is something wrong?”
While unsure about asking him, Rebecca grew too curious about the situation before her and spoke, “I thought Christian doesn’t live here.”
Retchet narrowed his eyes at the statement and said, “It’s ‘Master’ to you. Don’t forget, you’re his pet now.”
Rebecca flinched at the reminder, before looking down with a grimace.
“As for the lord’s living circumstance, while I am unsure what you’ve heard about his life in the surface, he has always lived here,” Retchet continued, surprising Rebecca with the info.
“Even though his father is the owner and CEO of Riverdale Corp? But I thought coming from that sort of family, he would be living in some mansion with them.”
Retchet closed his eyes with a light sigh at the statement. “If you wish to know about the lord’s living circumstance, you best ask him yourself. That is not something I should tell you about. Besides, if I recall, don’t you two go to the same school?” Rebecca’s surprise grew at the question. “I looked up your file on the drive here. You may be a young girl, but we need to make sure that bastard father of yours did not give us a spy or a government agent of sort. I do hope you understand that much.”
Rebecca could not say she understood a single thing about this circumstance. However, she supposed as a mafia- a dangerous underground group- these people did not want the police or any government officials to know of their location.
“Anyway, stay in the room until the lord arrives. And don’t do anything that will garner trouble. You don’t want to upset him.” With that last warning, Retchet left the room.
Rebecca watched him leave before turning to the door. Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she twisted the doorknob and opened the door. Inside was a seemingly normal room. One that more belonged to any average boy than son of the wealthy, or leader of a mafia.
The room itself was small- almost as small as her own room. The bed was single, and had simple bedsheets and blankets on it. There were no windows in the room, but there was a lamp on a small desk on one side of the room, though it was turned off.
If there was one thing that most especially stood out to Rebecca, though, it would be the wall on the other side of the room. That in which had a map of the city they live, with various photos and various newspaper articles pinned on it, as well as post-it notes and lines and arrows drawn on it. She grew curious of the wall and approached it.
“Is this… an investigation board?” Rebecca wondered in a whisper.
She remembered seeing something like this in a tv show her father would often watch. Rather, on nights when he would leave the television on while he fell asleep drunk. Although there weren’t that many pictures on the wall, from what she could see, they seemed to be centered around someone. Who that person was, she couldn’t tell, when there wasn’t a good photo of this person’s face. Though from the figure, she could see it was a female.
“Who is this person?” she asked, raising a hand up to one photo.
Before she could even touch it, however, a hand slammed against her own. Rebecca bit back a yelp, feeling a pinky crushed from the slam, as she was forcibly turned around, where she came face to face with an enraged Christian.
“What do you think you’re doing, you stupid pet?” he questioned, with much venom in his tone.
Rebecca thought the way he acted before to Boner was frightening enough, but seeing Christian now? With his face this close to her? She felt frightened by him; more than she did with her father every time he abused her. It did not help that her hand was also getting crushed in his.
Upon getting no response from her, Christian grew more enraged by the silence and raised his free hand to her throat, choking her as he lifted her up slightly. “Let’s make one thing clear. You are nothing more than a pet now. You do as I say when I say it. Do it right, and you will be rewarded. Do one thing wrong- anything at all- and you. Will. Be. Punished. Is that clear?” With those last words, the grip on Rebecca’s hand tightened, and the girl clenched her teeth tighter to prevent a cry from escaping her throat.
She hastily nodded, wanting the pain to end, and was dropped down to the floor. She coughed, getting some air back into her, relieved that the pain and fright were over.
“Do not ever touch my stuff again. Especially not the board,” he continued to warn.
Regaining some composure, Rebecca looked back up at Christian. Not in fear or rage, but more in confusion. In fact, she was nothing but confused about this man. While he usually kept to himself even while being crowded by his fans or teammates from various sports teams, not once has she seen him act so coldly. And there was also his living circumstance to call into question.
“It’s late, and it’s school night. We’ll start your lessons in the morning,” Christian continued, before tossing the pillows and blanket from his bed to Rebecca. “Since you’re a pet now, your ‘bed’ is the floor.”
Rebecca managed to catch both items, and watched as her 'owner' lied on his bed, using his arm as a pillow. Judging by the gentle movement of his chest rising and falling, she could tell he had fallen asleep.
So many things happened tonight for her, at a pace too fast for her to follow. She wasn't sure what to think of it all. As much as she wanted to question it, however, she had to admit, she was feeling a little exhausted.
'Too much has happened. Too little time to think on any of it,' she thought, lying down with the pillow under her head, and the blanket over her, making herself comfortable as possible on the floor. 'Christian made the right call on one thing, though. For now, I'll just sleep on this.'
Christian was tired of it all. He was tired of these men trying to make a fool out of him. Tired of life at school, where many people bathe in his presence- be it fans fawning over him, or teammates wanting to share the glory he brings. He was also tired of the teachers trying to get on his good side, mainly the females. All because of who his father was. Rather… who his ‘caretaker’ was.Although he is of the Riverdale family, he is but an adopted son. No, he was just being taken care of by them. Yet, despite that, not only did anyone not mind the indirect relationship with such (distinguished) family- not when he had the skills and smarts to back it up- he never felt like a part of the family. Not because he was never treated well there, but more because he himself never bothered to get close to them. Not his adopted family, not the servants, nobody. Not after what happened to his mother in that household.Although he could not remember her face, he could still remember it well. The
When Christian was told that one of his debtors sold their child to him to pay off their debt, he was disgusted by the news. A human selling their child away so easily? It reminded him much of his own mother. The pain and humiliation she had to suffer because of her own kind, especially her own blood. While he has never met his other blood relatives, he has heard enough about them and what they had done to her.Any thoughts he once had for there being good in the human world- namely in the kindness in family, the very same one his mother gave to him- diminished from then onwards. Rather, he was convinced that all humans were cruel, with his mother being the sole exception.And here he was, hearing one of the many proofs of such belief. “What do you want us to do? Shall we take the deal?” Retchet asked.“What do you think the answer is?” Christian retorted. “You can bring the girl. However, that bastard parent of hers… If they think they can just brush over their debt so easily with t
Christian never thought he would hear those words from Rebecca’s mouth. When it was clear that her father did not care for her? How could this girl be so foolish to still give her life to such irredeemable human? Even after knowing exactly how much he owes, she still dared give her life away. Seeing her act that way to her own life…It sickens him.“I beg your pardon? You’re going to pay off that bastard’s debt?” he asked, wanting to make sure if he had heard her right.“A bastard he may be, he is still my dad. Besides, he may have offered to sold me, but I already volunteered myself first!”How Christian felt his eye twitch from that retort. She ‘volunteered’ herself to this. Willingly. He thought she was pitiful before, but now, the longer he looked at her…‘No! This damn slut… is not my mother!’ he mentally snapped at himself, not wanting his memory of his mother to be ruined by this human. A false smile formed on his face, as he then spoke to Rebecca. “Seems I’m not the only one
The next day, Rebecca woke up feeling groggy. Something that wasn't new for her, having gotten used to sleeping on the floor for so long. What was new, though, was the slight warmth and comfort from her blanket and pillow. Both which should’ve been so worn out, she wouldn’t feel any comfort from them. ‘Why do they feel different?’ she wondered.Opening her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room and instantly sat up in stupor. “Where am-?!” She stopped her question, recalling what happened last night. “Oh, that's right. I was sold off.”It may have been of her own volition, but Rebecca couldn't believe her own father sold her to pay off his debt. Granted, she was not sold as a slave, and her owner was someone she was somewhat acquainted with. However, she had doubts that either made her situation any better."For now, I should probably just get up,” she figured. At least as a pet she still had some form of freedom. Best not push that luck, though.As she rose to her feet, the d
One quick shower later, Rebecca emerged from the bathroom refreshed, wearing some new clothes, as Christian had promised her. At first, she had thought she was to be given some hand-me-downs to wear, when she truly was given some freshly new clothes. Words could never describe her surprise from this. Why, she ever asked the girl who delivered the clothes if she had given them to the right person. A question that gave her quite the response."You have a problem with these?"If she was given old, worn out clothes, Rebecca would understand the response given. The ones delivered, though, were relatively new, as far as she could tell from the cleanliness. More than that, the mafia woman did not seem angered or annoyed when she gave her answer.‘Even though I’m just a pet? Or is it because I am not yet a slave?’ she wondered, looking down at the new shirt and pants she was wearing in puzzlement, plain as they may be, as she gave them a feel. 'It has to be because Christian did not label me
Rebecca shuddered as she sat in the back of the limo, her head down with a black bag over it, her eyes further covered by a blindfold, and her mouth gagged. Her hands were tied together, and rested on her bare lap, preventing her from even rubbing her arms for warmth from the cold emitting out the air conditioner. “Aww. What’s the matter? Feeling a little cold?” came a voice on her right. One with much chill in his tone, as Rebecca flinched upon feeling a large hand rest on her thigh, massaging it in a suggestive way. “Cut it out, Jared. You know the lord won’t be happy if you do something to his property,” a stern voice warned from her left. “What? It’s not my fault she has to wear that rag. Surely she must be feeling cold from the strong air conditioning in here. I’m just trying to help her get comfortable.” “And you think the lord will take that excuse? You know how he is.” At that warning, to Rebecca’s relief, the hand left her person. ‘Why?’ she wondered then. ‘Why am I in
Once they arrived at their destination, Rebecca was guided out of the car towards their supposed hideout. The bag and blindfold were still on her, to her dismay. Though she supposed it was better having them on. At least to avoid noticing whatever unwanted gaze will be on her. Much like one certain gaze she could feel behind her. “You’re kind of slowing down back here. Come on, pick up the pace,” the owner of said gaze told her, giving her a slap on her butt. Rebecca let out a yelp from the smack, and felt her face collide against someone’s back, coming to a stop. “Do you have a death wish or something?” the man in front questioned, sending chills to her spines from the cold tone he used. “What? She was moving a bit slow,” the man behind her claimed. Rebecca, however, knew that was but a lie, given how close the man in front of her was. She couldn’t be that slow, and she hoped he knew that as well. “Boner, I know you are new here and that you have yet to meet our lord. However,
All eyes turned to Boner as he spoke, walking over to Christian. “Maybe you’ve been living in your perfect little world for long enough, but in real life? Things are not sunshine and rainbows. Especially not in the life of a mafia. You should know that, shouldn’t you. Don’t you still attend school like a good boy~?” All around her, Rebecca could notice some light sighs and head shakes from a few people watching the interaction. Was this normal in a mafia? For someone to disrespect their leader in such a manner? Shouldn’t someone stop him? “Boner. What did I just tell you earlier?” Retchet warned, in which Boner scoffed at. “Ah, come on. You can’t really be telling me you’re all scared of him? Regardless of who he is in the surface world, in the underground that is the mafia- especially for people like us- that means nothing here.” Boner then leaned closer to Christian and, to Rebecca’s astonishment, took a few whiffs at him. “Heh. He even smells like a weakling. A spoiled brat like