Rosalina, 24 year old whose family was just killed by her abusive Fiancé, escapes to New York where she gets sent to live with old best friend and Mafia Boss, Alec Salvatore. 27 year old Alec, a cold and dark man who would stop at nothing to have th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
≪•◦ 🦋 ◦•≫
I get home to the smell of booze and cigarettes, attempting to head upstairs quietly without drawing attention to myself. I avoid squeaky tiles - that I've memorized - almost making it to the bathroom before I hear my name.
"ROSALINA!" I don't take my time back down the stairs, it won't change anything. Dante sits in the living room, a fireplace that hasn't been used in years in front of him. Two sectional couches on each side of him, a drink in hand. I wonder how many he's had. "Yes." My head faces the floor, the floor I've gotten familiar with, patiently wait for his response.
He doesn't respond right away, making my body tense in anticipation. I finally look up to my Fiancé of six years, taking a few steps to see his head draped back against the black loveseat he's sitting in.
My family sold me to the Cortez family when I turned eighteen or should I say sold me to him, Dante. Their debt was substantial and told me it would be a simple arranged marriage.
Simple dates. Simple ring. Simple life.
Dante and I got along in the beginning of this so called arranged marriage, two peas in a pod his mother loved to tell us. There was a time when Dante and I saw eye to eye on things but fast forward to now....
This was the worst thing my parents could have ever done to me.
Turning 21 was the turning point in our marriage, things slowly changed. First it started with arguing over little things, where'd I go? What I'd do? Or try to do then it escalated to him trying to trap me at home.
He always keeps me pretty sheltered. I've never really been outside for too long and I can't remember the last time I'd seen or spoken to a friend. I'm 21 and I can't remember the last time I've gone somewhere.
Ive never known what it's like been free in this world.
I miss being a child at least then I had freedom to go places, travel, even if I couldn't afford them. I watch women on social media when I can, seeing them makes me wonder what kind of person I'd be out there.
Free to do what I want....without any repercussions. I'm always here and under his control at all times.
Don't get me wrong, him being upset wasn't the problem. I didn't grow up a pushover and I've been known to hold my ground yet the aftermath would consist in him assaulting me, throwing me around or even locking me in dark rooms for hours with no food or water.
I haven't spoken to him in two in a half weeks. Instead I've been focusing on work as a receptionist/ assistant at his office, mainly scheduling and numbers, and coming straight home. I've been sleeping in my office for the past week, every touch from him in the bed next to me makes me jump.
