Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Chapter 24 Thoughts

A choked scream escapes my lips as I am roughly thrown down onto a cold, surgical table. Bright lights blind me and my body continuously spasms from coughing. Blood spews from my mouth, and it seems as if I'm drowning in my own blood.

"She can't breathe! Boss will put a bullet in our heads if she dies. Call the doctors!" Mark yells, clear panic in his voice.

Not being able to breathe is a terrifying feeling. Dread sets in and death nears.

It isn't long before an oxygen mask is forced over my face and men in surgical clothing appear in my vision. I feel a prick in my arm, and I know it's the anesthesia needle.

I immediately feel the effects and soon fade away into the realms of unconsciousness.

* * *

"Good morning, beautiful."

A low, slightly accented voice pulls me out of unconsciousness, and when I peek my eyes open, I see the light brown eyes of a young man. His eyes match the color of his hair, and his complexion is pale. He looks down at me with not love, but desire and lust.

"W-who the hell are you?" I question weakly.

"Aw, my finance's first words are so kind when she awakes from her week long coma." He says wryly.

"Fiance!? Coma?!" I roar.

"Luuk! Quit causing problems, my son. The girl needs rest." Says Lars, stepping into the room.

"H-he is certainly not my fiance." I protest as I sit up in bed. My heart races with anger. "I will not marry anyone."

Lars furrows his eyebrows in anger and points a finger in my face. "You will do as I say."

"Why? Why must I marry him? Why not pick some other girl who already loves him? I'm sure he's got women falling at his feet already!"

"Because, I think you're perfect for my son. You'll provide a challenge for him, and you're not materialistic. You won't get easily distracted by the riches my son can provide you. Unlike other women, you're mature in your thinking." Lars tells me.

"I will not marry him regardless of your opinions on how wife material I am." I spit angrily.

"I'm in charge here, you have no rights. You will respect my decisions like the Mafia boss I am, or there will be consequences." He says sternly.

I stare Lars in the eyes, refusing to back down. I will not marry his son. I refuse. He can go ahead and kill me if he likes, as I refuse to become just a simple object of beauty latched onto his arm. What a shallow, pointless life that would be.

Lars rips his gaze away from mine, and storms out of there.

"Honey, I'm really not that bad. I will buy you the biggest, most beautiful diamond ring your heart desires." Luuk says.

"Really? Are you that dense? I don't want a ring, or riches, or whatever tactic you have up your sleeve to win over a woman. I want to be free. And seeing you can't give me that, I'm done with you." I say angrily.

"It doesn't work that way, little one." Luuk says, chuckling. "You are mine, and if it wasn't for your recovering state, I would take you as mine right here, right now, and make you scream to the rooftops that you are mine."

"You disgusting scum!" I say, trying to mask my fear. I can't go through another rape....I just can't!

Luuk nears me, and hovers over me on the bed. He traps my body beneath his, and smirks. "This is the perfect position for us, don't you think? I love dominating my women."

"Get off of me!" I cry out, panicked, as I lay my palms flat against his chest in an attempt to push him off of me.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he brings his head into the crook of my neck, and leaves sloppy kisses down my throat. He bites the skin of my neck roughly as he continues his assault, and I yelp.

"P-please!" I gasp as tears start to fall. I can't help it. I've been through this experience too many times, and each time has left a painful reminder that I am broken.

He finally listens to my cries and gets off of me.

"That was a preview of what is to come, darling." He says winking and disregarding my tears as he walks out of there.

Please....someone, anyone save me from this place. I think as I dry my tears. If I can't escape, there's got to be another way.

* * *

Once I recover enough, I'm soon thrown back into the damp prison. I'm located in a different cell that has no windows so no more escape attempts can be made. I sit there, with my back against the cool wall, awaiting my fate.

I'm getting married to Luuk. I can't be married into a Mafia family, I refuse to be nothing more than an object of show. It's degrading and most men in this life have no regard or respect for women, and it's sickening.

I don't even hear Mark's footsteps this time, and he startles me when he just shows up in front of the bars of my cell with folded clothes in his hands.

"I brought you some clothes to change into. Hurry up, my boss is waiting." Mark says impatiently.

I slowly take the clothes from his hands, and being careful not to rush. I, in fact, am very much entertained at the thought of the almighty Mafia boss who always gets what he wants waiting on someone. I inwardly smirk.

"Turn around, Mark. It's the least you could do." I say.

Mark scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever." And to my surprise, he actually turns around and gives me a little privacy so I can change.

Once I'm done, I'm taken back up the stairs and into that throne-like room to Lars. I feel nervous as I spot the man with a pompadour style haircut. His back is faced towards me, and when he turns around, he smiles. Lars is so arrogant and it makes me sick.

"You may leave now, Mark." He commands.

Mark bows his head in respect, before his footsteps fade away.

Lars walks towards me with a crooked smile on his face. He nears me until he is within a foot from me, and I stand there, paralyzed.

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and examines my features.

"You've got the looks and the maturity for my son." He says quietly. "Yes, this will do."

I timidly smack his hands away from my face, and take a step back.

"Why'd you call my up here? I already know of your wedding plans." I say, becoming impatient and irritated at his inspection of me.

"Blunt. I like it. Very well, if it's the truth you seek, then it's the truth you will find. As you know, you are engaged to my son-"

"I'm engaged to nobody, as far as I'm concerned. I will not marry your son. Who the hell do you think you are, to march into my life all of a sudden and demand such an atrocious thing from me! I will do no such thing." I hiss angrily.

"You will do as I say." Lars says angrily though his teeth. His eyes are narrowed at me, and his arms are folded over his chest. He looks like a ticking time bomb, and I become afraid. He's a Mafia boss, and here I am pissing him off.

But despite that fact, I still decide to run my mouth for whatever reason.

"I will not marry your stuck up Mafia prince. I would rather die than marry him." I say, looking him in the eyes in defiance.

Before I have a chance to react, he harshly backhands me across the face. The sound echos through my ears, and my face goes flying to the side upon impact. I stumble a bit as I touch the place he had struck me.

I wince as I remember the memories that slap has brought upon me, and for a moment, instead of Lars standing before me, I see my own father. I gasp in fright, but when I blink, Lars is back.

"I suggest you shut your mouth, woman. Don't test me again or you'll receive more than a slap next time. I've got all kinds of techniques of torture up my sleeves as I've had plenty of practice with my prisoners." He says.

"You also need to learn respect. I demand respect, and if you don't give it to me, there will be severe consequences." He adds.

"Respect? You're telling me to respect you when you're giving me to your son, and I have no choice in the matter? I'm damned to be nothing more than a trophy for the rest of my life, and you're nagging at me about respect? Respect goes both ways buddy-"

"SILENCE!" Lars roars as he strikes me across the other cheek. This time, he hits me even harder, and I bite my lip to keep my cry of pain down. I keep my eyes diverted to the floor in an attempt to hide the tears that are swelling in my eyes.

"I expect to talk in a civilized matter with you, not shout like some immature brat who didn't get what she wanted." He seethes.

I hold my other cheek tenderly as the stinging feeling lingers.

Lars clears his throat, and dusts his jacket off. "Now that you're submissive, I can talk. Your wedding will be in six months, and I expect you to become a quiet wife by then. You will obey your husbands every command and need with no arguments. Starting next week, you will be taking feminine classes, which is about how a proper woman should behave."

My bottom lip quivers as I hear the words this man spews.

He is foolish to think that I will go through with such plans.

But despite my thoughts, I nod my head.

I don't want to get slapped again. It's not only physically painful, but mentally painful as well.

"W-what about my mom? How did she find her way into the Mafia?" I question quietly.

"That's a story she will have to tell you herself. As of now, you are excused to go back to your cell." He says as he waves me away and turns his back on me.

Mark enters back into the room, and it makes me wonder if he eavesdrops on our conversations as he knows exactly when to come and get me.

And for the rest of the night, I expect to be utterly alone down in my cell. I draw in the dust that coats the floor and I scratch tallies on the wall with a piece of crumbled stone. But when lighter, more delicate footsteps sound through the chambers, I become alert.

I wasn't expecting any visitors....

But when my mom comes into view, I roll my eyes. She grips the bars of the cell from the outside as she peers down at me.

"I know you don't want to see me but-"

"You're damn right I don't want to see you right now." I say, cutting her off and tearing my gaze away from her.

Silence passes between us, and I can't help but feel a slight amount of guilt by her sad, regretful features. She's my own mother, after all.

"Please....just let me explain. You're my only family left and I...I want to make peace." She says. Her voice is barely above a whisper.

She's my own mom, I should at least give her a chance to explain herself, right?

I sigh. "Fine. But it doesn't mean that I will forgive you."

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I understand-"

"No, you don't understand. You don't understand what it's like to be despised by your own father. You don't understand what it is like to be beaten and abused to the point of near death. And you certainly don't know what it's like to be raped every day. So don't tell me that you understand, because you don't."

I feel so much pent up anger that I need to take a deep breath and relax. Maybe she has a good reason. Just let her talk.

She breaks down in tears at my words. "I'm so sorry all those things happened to you and I wasn't there to support you. I'm so sorry you were left in the hands of that monster and at the mercy of those evil men. My heart breaks for you, and I feel so guilty!" She says in between tears.

"But....you've got to know that I didn't leave you by choice." She adds.

"You...you didn't?"

"N-no. Your dad hated me to, so he sold me into human trafficking." She says, drying her tears.

"He-he did what?" I say, astounded. I know feel very guilty.

"He sold me like some animal, and I was forced into a work full of painful nights and lonely, depressed mornings. W-when the men were done with me, they'd throw me back out onto the streets where I'd walk back to my pimp's car. Lars found me when I was walking back, and h-he helped me." She says, drying her tears.

What....

"I know he seems like a cold person. And, yes he is. But he was kind enough to save me from that forced lifestyle. Most people stuck in human trafficking never can escape from it and....I'm just grateful for him." She adds.

"I...I don't know what to say....." I whisper.

"I know it's a lost to process but....I just feel so bad t-that I left you with them. I should have fought harder, I should have...."

But she doesn't say anything more as more tears stream down her face.

"You're my strong girl." She adds, which causes me to smile sadly.

"I must be going now but....I thought you could use this." She says as she squeezes a blanket in between the bars and tosses it to me.

"T-thank you."

She just nods slightly, before turning to walk away.

"And m-mom?" I ask. That word feels so foreign and different on my tongue.

She turns around and acknowledges me.

"I...I forgive you." I tell her as I wrap the blanket around my cold body. But the warm smile she wears on her face could give global warming a run for its money.

And that night I fell asleep with a satisfied conscience. Hate and anger no longer plague my hate towards my mom. Maybe I can, after all, have some sort of a relationship with her.

* * *

Late at night Lars lurks.

Late at night Lars plots.

What does he plot?

He plots the perfect plan to bring down his competitor whom he despises.

He closes his eyes in thought as he combs through his mind in a search for ideas. Lars is a master of deception and malice, having been able to practice the art as a Mafia boss.

So, when an idea arises from his mind, he smirks. An evil glint is shone in his eyes and the epitome of selfishness itself dances freely in his heart.

Yes, indeed he will get his way.

For he is Lars the Mafia boss, and as a Beast, he always gets what he wants.

Or so he thought.

But a new day dawns, and Lars must go out and prepare his plans to be set in place. And like the dark Beast he is, he must continue reeking havoc on those who dare to cross him.

It's just what the Beast does.

But a day of reckoning is promised to come, and when that day comes, the Beast will fall to his knees.

Oh what a glorious day that will surely be.