ARIAHe took out a white bandage and covered my neck with it. He uttered something that I didn't hear but pretended that I did and nodded my head in agreement even though it hurt me to.“Get out." He ordered after several moments, "I'll be the one to remove the bandage."His voice was deep and cold.I hated it.Why was it like this?I hated the part of me that thought he might feel some remorse, but it was missing. Robotically, I turned my body towards the door. Every step I took away from him, I felt his eyes on it. With my hand on the knob, I stopped for a moment, thinking over the fact that kept nudging me.I grimaced when I swallowed, parted my lips and asked him something.The reason I had slapped him.“How can you talk about someone’s daughter like that when you have a daughter of your own, Fabiano?”For a moment, I thought that he might storm towards me and beat me again but he didn’t. His cold voice washed over me like a freezing wave of air in a chilly night, raising goosebu
ARIAIt was beautiful.And I hated it.The red rose with its bright red petals looked so enchanting.The stem of the flower was wrapped in a coil of sharp thorns. “Isn’t it magnificent?”It was a rhetorical question. And my husband’s tone suggested that he wanted the answer that would please him. Who was I to defy him, eh?“Of course.” I whispered, dragging my eyes to his in the mirror but averted my gaze as soon as our eyes clashed.My hands hung limply at my sides, my fingers trembling and shaking like twigs in a storm. I didn’t hide them. I was done of hiding. I needed to see them.The fear. The shock.My eyes were trailing back to it.Like a moth drawn to the flame, my eyes were drawn to what he had imprinted on me.The tattoo he had branded on my existence.A rose. No. Not just rose. A Rose with thorns.The bright red rose was etched on the side of my neck, just below my ear. The tattoo was beautiful. But the beauty meant nothing to me. It was nothing but a reminder of my suffe
ARIAThis was just some psychological shit, wasn’t it?My mind was playing tricks on me—maybe it still was— and I had fallen prey to those tricks.His touch was burning me now. I wanted to fight him, I wanted to tell him “no” because I easily recognized the glint in his eyes.He wanted me.But did he think that I would fall so easily to my knees?He had manipulated me so skillfully back then and I was the foolish one, trusted someone even Satan wouldn’t trust.Shame filled me, heating up my skin and I watched in the reflection as my pale cheeks colored.Fabiano’s hands trailed down my sunken stomach, over the vertical scar before he began to pull down the zipper of my jeans, the metallic sound flitted through the air.The color that had filled my cheeks seconds ago drained, leaving me ghastly pale.Without thinking, my hand landed on his, stopping him from pulling down the zipper completely. Chilly dread settled over me when he raised those steely orbs at me, arching an inky brow thro
ARIAIf I didn’t obey him, he’d hurt my sister.Turning around and facing him, I moved towards him—just a few steps because he was standing not so far from me.“Undress me.”There was challenge in his eyes. The mockery. The taunt. The unspoken words.Both of us knew who had the upper hand here. He was the one controlling all the strings here. He knew my weakness and he used it, unashamedly.He was doing this to teach me a lesson I kept forgetting.I was no one.He was everything and everyone.I was the puppet. I was meant to obey.He was my master. His words were orders.I wanted to scream. I wanted to protest. I wanted to. I swore I did want to but…I could never pick myself over my sister.Fabiano didn’t lie. He did what he said. If he acted on his threat, I would lose my sister and without her, I would turn to ashes.I couldn’t take my frustration out on him. But I yanked his shirt apart, not bothering to unbutton the buttons one by one, letting them fly around and tumble to the gr
ARIA(TRIGGER WARNING: The content below contains self-harm, mentions of sex trafficking, severe sexual abuse, death of an infant.)Three.Three.One. Two. Three.Three red vertical lines.Three.Three times I was assaulted.Three times I was broken.Three times parts of me were stolen.Three times I was left alone, a wrecked mess.Drip. Drip. Drip.Three drops.I dragged my gaze from the crimson lines and looked at the dark drops contrasting sharply against the white marble basin.I turned the tap on, watching as water streamed over the drops, fading the dark color into a light pink before it was washed away completely.More drops dripped into the running water, only to be carried away into the drain.Pain spiraled all the way over my arm, but it didn’t hurt me like it should’ve. It was…addicting. It was something I knew I could get used to. The high, the rush, the feeling.I looked down at the scissors covered in blood sitting on the cupboard before running my forefinger over the cu
ARIA(TRIGGER WARNING: The content below contains self-harm, mentions of sex trafficking, severe sexual abuse, death of an infant.)She shook her head, as if trying to remove something unwanted from her head.“He came back with bags full of food, clothes, medicines. Everything I needed and didn’t have.”Was she talking about the man who was my husband?“He told me to take a shower because I was stinking.” Her lips quirked up, “I did as he asked and, in the bathroom, my water broke. I was so panicked, so terrorized because I had no idea what to do. He helped me. Fabiano. He helped me through the labor. He was the first one to hold my daughter.”My heart twisted inside me, watching the sprinkles of happiness in her eyes as she mentioned her daughter. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t control the pain that never went away. I averted my gaze and stared at my lap.“She was small, so small I thought I’d break her if I touched it. She was a survivor though. I had no help, no guidance, no medici
ARIAShe took her hand off my chest, sighing out loud before offering me a smile.“I know it hurts. I know you’re confused. I know it feels like hell. I know the self-hatred you feel. I know your pain, Aria.”Aria. It felt so weird to hear my name after so long. Aria. Aria Whitlock.“You’re special, you know that.” She jerked her chin at me, “You’re a fighter. Even though a part of me believes you’re foolish. You’re meant for more. You’re not meant for this captivity. He doesn’t realize it now. He doesn’t realize your worth but one day, he will.”She stood up, holding the kit in her trembling hands,“One day, Aria,” She held my hand and caressed it, “One day, you’ll meet your daughter.”A choked sound escaped me. She looked up at me and smiled;“You’ll meet your beautiful girl. It might be a little late but trust me, she’ll be proud to have you as her mother. She’ll love you instantly.”My vision blurred, eyes filled with water, face wet with tears, scrambled noises escaping my lips.
FABIANOFive months later:Aria had gone in labor.Back rigid, shoulders tense, Fabiano paced outside the room; his ears picking up the cries and screams of pain that escaped the room.He frowned, telling himself to sit down but something inside him didn't let him rest.Few minutes later, something made Fabiano tense even more.A sound, to be exact.He froze as the sound went up again.A cry.His ears picked up a cry.A baby's cry.He eyed the door, watching it blankly for a moment before pushing it open and barging inside. Every person inside the room tensed and looked back at him, pausing before they resumed their work.No one wanted to face the infamous beastly king.His eyes fell on his wife; her tired, deathly pale figure that eyed him.He walked towards her, and stopped beside her. Pressing a hand to her sweaty forehead, Fabiano forced himself to smile his infamous grin."Hello, lioness."But her lioness' eyes rolled back into her head as she slumped unconscious. Fabiano tensed