Chapter Five

Mirabella's pov

 

Here I was, trapped in the suffocating darkness of the club’s backroom. The steady thump of bass pounded through the walls, mixing with the thud of fists and boots landing on my body.

 

I screamed for help with my cracked voice, but it was pointless.

 

The men were merciless. Their punches and kicks hit every inch of me.

 

I couldn’t tell where, but I was bleeding—there was no mistaking it. Blood pooled beneath me, spreading across the cold floor like it was draining the last of my strength. All I could do was curl in on myself, hoping for the blows to stop, but they didn’t.

 

For a split second, I wished for death to take me—anything to stop the pain. But then I thought of my mom. She died trying to save me, and I couldn’t let that be for nothing. I couldn’t give up, not when I had to save my grandfather from my father. It was a fight I had to win. I gritted my teeth, determined to survive this no matter how broken I felt.

 

 

The door creaked open, and I barely had the strength to lift my head.

 

Helen and Mr. Levine stepped inside.

 

The men surrounding me stepped aside, leaving space for him to approach.

 

“You stupid bitch,” Mr. Levine spat, his voice dripping with venom.

 

Before I could react, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me upright.

 

I gasped in pain that ripped through my scalp, and tears spilt down my face. I was too weak to fight back.

 

"Who do you think you are? You have the nerve to kick me in the balls?" He scoffed, his hand tightening around my neck, making it impossible to breathe.

 

"I’m sorry, Mr. Levine," I gasped, struggling to get the words out between choking breaths.

"I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know what I was doing. Please... forgive me."

 

He smirked, turning to Helen without loosening his grip, while I slapped at his arm, desperate to break free.

 

"Did you hear that, Helen?" He chuckled, his voice dripping with condescension.

"She says she wasn’t thinking. Tell me, what is the point of all the trainings and orientations you put these brats through? Do you want them to ruin our reputation? Is that what you are aiming for?"

 

Helen tried to keep her composure, but I caught the flicker of unease in her eyes. It made me wonder who this man really was to the club. I had thought he was just a patron, but now... he seemed to hold more power than I realised.

 

"I’m sorry," she replied, her voice clipped.

"I will handle it."

 

He finally released me, letting go of my throat. I collapsed forward, gasping for breath as I clutched my bruised neck. A cough rattled out of me, the relief almost overwhelming.

 

"As if I care," he sneered.

"I’m not the one who will lose a job over this mess."

 

With one last glance, he kicked me so hard that I flew backward, crashing into the wall.

 

If it weren’t for the wall holding me up, I would have crumpled completely—I had no strength left to stop myself.

 

I was too weak to even move back to my knees after the impact. Instead, I lay there on the cold floor, completely drained and hopeless.

 

Was this cruelty because of what I did to him? Or had he always been this vicious? Only someone heartless could treat another human like this—no, not even a person, only a monster would act like this.

 

“I’ll be in the same room. Once you are done with her, have one of the guards bring her to me,” he said coldly, striding out.

 

But just before he finally left, he paused.

 

Everyone else in the room stayed frozen, waiting for him to leave before they carried out whatever despicable, twisted plans they had.

 

I could feel their burning gazes on me, especially Helen’s.

 

"Don't break her too much; that would make her useless to do anything because there wouldn't be fun in that." He bit his lips, which disgusted me.

"I need to teach her a lesson," he smirked.

"You can deal with her to your satisfaction after I'm done with her." He added and finally left.

 

I knew what was coming next and forced what little strength I had left to get on my knees, facing Helen.

 

"I'm sorry, mother. Please forgive me for being so childish. I swear it won’t happen again. I will never try to run away again. I will do everything you say from now on," I begged, my voice trembling as I rubbed my palms together.

 

Her glare only grew more intense, and before I could react, she marched over and slapped me so hard that the sound echoed through the room.

 

"Who do you think you are, trying to escape?!" she spat, her voice filled with fury.

 

"Why the fuck can't you girls listen to me just once?!" She ran her hands through her hair, her frustration making her look unhinged, and I flinched in fear.

 

Then she bent down, her face inches from mine and her eyes boring into me at my level.

 

"Where were you running to or where do you plan to?" she asked me.

 

But I didn’t dare say a word and only looked at the floor.

 

"Your father who sold you?" she scoffed.

"Isn't he and your weak grandfather the only family you have?"

 

She then raised my chin up with her hand and whispered. "Tell me; where did you plan to run to?"

 

I had no idea what she was trying to get out of me with that question, but the only thing I could think to do was shake my head.

 

Suddenly, she slapped me again—harder this time—knocking me to the ground as fresh tears streamed down my face.

 

She leaned in and whispered for me to get up, but I couldn’t. My body had given up; my bones and strength had completely failed me.

 

"Get up, right now! How dare you disobey me?" she roared.

 

Trembling, I slowly pushed myself up, but I could only manage to sit on the floor, my body too weak to do more.

 

"I'm sorry, mother," I apologised.

 

"Do you really think your life would be any better if you miraculously managed to escape? Let me assure you, that is never going to happen," she hissed, her voice cold and threatening.

 

"Why can’t any of you see that I’m trying to help you?" Her frustration was clear, and I couldn’t help but wonder how she could justify buying people like me and turning us into sex slaves.

"Do you think the outside world is any better than this? Do I need to remind you how brutal the world can be, especially after what has happened to you? I'm trying to make you better, make you independent, and this is the fucking thanks I get? I had plans for you, but now..." She let out a sigh.

"You’ve only made your own hell worse." Her words sent a shiver down my spine.

 

I wanted to argue about how ridiculous her claims were—how could she believe she was helping by stripping us of our freedom? But I could not find the strength to speak up.

 

Then the door swung open, letting in a flash of light from the hallway that temporarily blinded me before it shut again.

 

The guards then bowed slightly.

 

When I glanced up, curious about who had just walked in, I was shocked to see the man I had begged for help at the elevator earlier, along with Mr. Levine.

 

"Mr. Jay," Helen whispered, her eyes widening as she turned to look at him.

 

She quickly stood up, clearly startled.

 

"What..." She scoffed.

"What are you doing here? I thought...Mr. Caesar is not here."

 

She shifted her gaze at Mr. Levine. "Didn't you tell him?"

 

"I know," Mr. Jay cut in.

"I've met with him already."

 

Slowly, he approached me, his footsteps echoing in the room as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His stride sent shivers down my spine, and my heart raced as his presence commanded respect from everyone in the room, making me wonder who he was.

 

Could he be the owner of this club?

 

As he came closer, Helen quickly got up and moved to the other side of the room.

 

He bent down and smiled at me. "You were the one I saw at the elevator earlier, right?"

 

I nodded awkwardly, unsure of where this was going.

 

He gently brushed my hair and said, "I’m sorry I didn’t come to your rescue when you were crying for help."

 

"But now I’m here," he added with a reassuring smile.

 

My stomach fluttered with relief and hope as I realised that someone had come to help me, and maybe I could finally escape this nightmare.

 

"Thank you... thank you, sir," I stammered.

 

He then stood up and turned to face Mr. Levine.

 

"Change of plans, Levine. Unfortunately, you won’t be getting her tonight," he said confidently.

 

"Just tell me whatever you want; I'll do it this instant," he added.

"But sir—"

 

Mr. Levine tried to protest, but Mr. Jay cut him off with a dismissive click of his tongue.

 

"And that’s how you lose the chance I was going to give you," Mr. Jay said.

 

"Sir?" Mr. Levine looked puzzled.

 

"You heard what I said. That’s final. Don’t even think about arguing," Mr. Jay snapped.

"Yes, sir," Mr. Levine muttered, his hands clasped in front of him as he stared at the floor.

"I thought as much," Mr. Jay chuckled.

 

He then instructed two guards to take me to his room, saying he would join me soon.

 

As the guards dragged me out of the room, Mr. Jay called after us, "Don’t be too hard on her, scumbags."

 

"Sir?" one of the guards responded, stopping as Mr. Jay’s back was turned.

 

"Are you two trying to make me repeat myself?" Mr. Jay demanded, turning to glare at them.

 

They shook their heads.

 

She sighed and explained. "Treat her like a princess she is."

 

I, including the guards, and every other person in the room were confused.

 

After the guards exchanged looks, they released their grip and instead held me gently by the arms, as if I were a princess, just like Mr. Jay had ordered.

 

As we walked down the hallway, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened.

 

Had I really met my Savior? Did he really call me a princess? A smile spread across my lips as these thoughts raced through my mind.