“Good.” He sets me down, and I hang my head, refusing to look up at him. “Now go to your room, you don’t deserve to get dinner tonight. Maybe going to bed hungry will teach you to not go against my orders. Your cousins don’t give me as much grief as you do. Why can’t you be more like Elena and Carlotta?”
Turning, I roll my eyes, but not before he sees me. The next thing I know, I’m on the floor, my ears ringing as his handprint blooms across my cheek. I stare at him in disbelief as shock runs through me. He’s never hit me before. Mom, yes, but not me.
“Don’t you fucking sass me, Daniella. Get up and go to your room. Now. If I see or hear you before tomorrow, I’ll put you in the basement.”
Climbing to my feet, I nod, the idea of the basement scaring me so badly that I comply, rushing out of the room and up the stairs to my room. Throwing myself onto my bed, I grab my favorite teddy and burst into tears. I hate him so much. I can’t wait until I’m a grown-up and can live in my own house. Then Mom can live with me and be free, instead of always being locked up.
Eleven Years Old
“Ah, Daniella, there you are,” Dad says to me as he catches me at the door to his office. “Come in, child.”
Gulping, I slide into the room, eyeing the man sitting across from Dad. I clench my hands into fists, trying to hide the fact they’re trembling. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to show fear in front of my father.
The man in the chair stands, towering over me. He’s not as old as Dad, maybe a few years younger. I cringe back at the look in his eyes; there’s something cold there, something bad.
They look like Dad’s eyes.
He steps toward me, and I back up instinctively, not wanting him near me. He reaches out and grabs my chin, tilting it up so I’m forced to look at him. I freeze, eyes widening, my breaths coming out in sharp pants as terror grips my heart.
“Now, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” he coos in a voice that makes me shudder. A drop of sweat rolls down my back, my brain screaming at my feet to move.Run.He steps back, letting go of my chin, and pats my head like a dog. Turning away, he says, “She is untouched?”
Dad pounds a fist on his desk. “Of course. Do not insult me, El Diablo. If I say she is a virgin, she is.”
The man rounds the desk, fists clenched. “Do not disrespect me, Gianelli. You are in the skin trade. How can I trust that you have kept her pure? I demand you allow me to check.”
Dad’s cheek does that weird ticking thing it does when he’s pissed off. I back into the corner, hoping they forget about me. I don’t understand what they are talking about; all I know is I’m more scared than I have ever been. Stuffing my shaking hands behind my back to hide them, I keep my head down and my mouth shut tight.
“Fine,” Dad spits out, and I glance up quickly to see the man smile.
“Excellent,” the man purrs, and swipes the desk clear of paperwork, making Dad growl. “Come here, girl.”
I don’t want to go over there, but my feet move without my permission. The man lifts me under my arms and lays me down on the desk. “No!” I shout, kicking out at him. I try to sit up, but then find myself crashing back down. Tilting my head back, I see Dad holding me down. Twisting my back, I start to cry, trying to work out what is happening. “Please, Dad!” I call out, but he only glares at me.
“Shut up, Daniella,” he hisses at me. “It will be over in a minute.”
“What will be over–” I start, but then shriek as the man my father calls El Diablo pulls my leggings down my legs, followed by my panties. “No, stop!” I beg, trying to kick again.
“If you don’t lie still,” Dad starts, his breath coming out funny as he gazes down the length of my body, “when we are done here, I will send Cesare to your mother’s room. Do you think she’d like a visit from him and his toolbox?”
I shake my head in resignation and stop moving. I’ll do anything they say if it keeps Mom safe.
“That’s a good girl,” El Diablo says as he runs his hands up my leg. I close my eyes and grit my teeth, doing my best to ignore his touch. He pushes my legs apart, then a searing pain rips through me, causing my back to arch and a scream to tear from deep within me.
El Diablo chuckles and removes his hand. He brings it to his mouth and licks his finger, giving a little hum. “Well, Gianelli, it seems your word is good after all. She’s delicious.”
Dad backs away from me, but I just lie there, tears streaming down my face as I stare blankly at the ceiling. I will never forgive him for this. Never. The pain down below is nothing compared to the cold iciness that is now surrounding my heart, suffocating it.
“Get up and get dressed, Daniella,” Dad says to me in a dismissive tone before turning back to El Diablo. “I’ll sign the necessary paperwork, and she’ll be yours on her sixteenth birthday.”
I carefully sit up and pull my panties and leggings back on, before sliding painfully off the desk.
“Run along, Daniella,” Dad orders, and my feet obey me, carrying me out of the room as if demons are chasing me. Tearing up the stairs, I drop to the floor outside Mom’s room, knocking quietly to get her attention. When she answers, I talk quietly through the door to her, telling her what just happened. Her shocked gasps and quiet sobs tell me I was right to be scared. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I rock back and forth, tears spilling down my face. I need one of my Mom’s hugs.
I make do with hugging myself instead.
That night, I’m awakened by a loud bang, followed by Mom and Dad screaming at each other. Jumping out of bed, I creep to my door, opening it just a crack. The dim lighting in the hallway shows one of the maids lying on the floor, her chest covered in blood. Her face is tilted toward me, her eyes open but unseeing.
Gritting my teeth and squaring my shoulders, I slip out of my room, keeping the wall at my back as I slide against it, going down the hallway toward the screaming.
