Bruised and Broken

Amelia's POV

When I awoke, I found myself in a moving car, lying on Gabriel's lap. The realization hit me—had we really arrived in Paris? The distance from home was overwhelming, and a wave of uneasiness washed over me. The unfamiliar surroundings and the knowledge that I was far away from everything and everyone I knew intensified my anxiety.

Gabriel's seemingly considerate actions—letting me sleep on his lap during the flight and carrying me to the car—conflicted with the image I had of him as a cold and ruthless man. I couldn't let myself be fooled by his occasional softness; I knew the reality of the situation. We had arrived in Paris, a place I had only dreamt of visiting, but the circumstances had turned it into a nightmare.

"You are already awake? We reached Paris some hours ago. I didn't want to wake you up, so I carried you till here," he said, his tone attempting to sound gentle. I saw through his facade, understanding the darkness that lurked beneath his actions. He was a monster, devoid of real feelings or empathy.

The car came to a stop, and my gaze was drawn to the magnificent hotel that stood before us. It was a breathtaking sight—an architectural marvel that exuded opulence and wealth. The grandeur of the place left me momentarily awestruck, but my uneasiness persisted. This place, no matter how beautiful, was now tied to the man who had forcefully brought me here.

His voice snapped me back to reality. "You'll keep admiring, or you'll alight from the car?" he quipped, his smirk evident even in his tone. I chose to ignore his comment, not wanting to engage in any interaction that would further fuel his arrogance. With a tense sigh, I exited the car, careful not to meet his gaze.

As we walked into the hotel together, I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped. The opulence that surrounded me was a stark contrast to the turmoil within. I wondered what Gabriel's intentions were—to keep me captive in this luxurious environment or to impose his will upon me.

My steps were hesitant, my eyes scanning the lobby for any possible escape route. But I knew that evading his grasp in such a grand place, especially with his security around, was an unlikely endeavor. I had to bide my time and seek an opportunity when he would be momentarily vulnerable.

The exchange between Gabriel and the receptionist was conducted in fluent French, a language I had excelled in during my studies. The pleasant smile on her face and the deference in her tone indicated that Gabriel was a regular and influential guest at this hotel. I caught the words she spoke: "Good Morning Mr. Hamilton. What a pleasure to see you again. Here are the keys to your suite. Have a good day."

I couldn't help but feel invisible in that moment. Despite standing right there, I was ignored, as if I were nothing more than a shadow in his presence. It was a stark reminder of how little agency I had in this situation. His actions were calculated to keep me isolated, to make me feel powerless.

Gabriel's response was smooth and confident: "Merci Christelle. Bonne journée." His fluency in French further emphasized his sophistication. He winked at her, causing her cheeks to turn a faint shade of pink. It was evident that his charm and good looks held sway over people, but I refused to let myself be swayed by his facade.

I followed him as he headed towards the suite, my steps reluctant and my heart heavy. Each step felt like a surrender to my circumstances, a tacit acceptance of the reality that he had imposed on me. I felt like a lost cat trailing behind its captor, unable to escape the grasp of a predator.

The suite that lay before me was a testament to opulence and extravagance. It was as if I had stepped into a world far removed from my own. The sheer size and grandeur of the living space left me momentarily breathless. My footsteps faltered as I timidly followed Gabriel into this luxurious haven.

The living room boasted an elegant sofa set arranged around a glass coffee table. A large TV was mounted on the wall, undoubtedly equipped with all the modern entertainment one could desire. The atmosphere was one of refinement, and it struck me just how much wealth and power he commanded.

The kitchen, though compact, exuded elegance. It was a far cry from my modest cooking space back home. The appliances were undoubtedly top-of-the-line, a far cry from my humble utensils.

My attention was drawn towards a door that I assumed led to the bedroom. A rush of anxiety washed over me as I realized there was only one bedroom in the suite. Did that mean I would be sharing it with Gabriel? The thought sent shivers down my spine. The unease that had been building within me intensified.

Gabriel's entrance into the bedroom prompted me to follow him hesitantly. What met my eyes was nothing short of opulent. A king-sized bed dominated the room, with an ornate chandelier hanging above it, casting a warm and inviting glow. A sofa and a small coffee table sat before the bed, and another TV adorned the wall. The room's decor was consistent with the rest of the suite: shades of grey and a sense of refined luxury.

My curiosity led me to another door, which led to a walk-in closet. As expected, it was spacious and well-organized. But my attention was truly captured when I opened yet another door, revealing the washroom. I was left speechless by its extravagance. A large Jacuzzi dominated the room, capable of accommodating multiple people. The grey walls added a touch of sophistication, and I was left awestruck by the sheer scale of opulence.

In the midst of all this grandeur, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. It was as if I had been thrust into a world that was so far removed from my own reality. But as much as the surroundings dazzled me, I couldn't ignore the fact that I was essentially a captive in this gilded cage.

Violent content ahead:

As I was lost in the overwhelming surroundings, Gabriel's voice snapped me back to reality. "You've finished admiring? Come and unpack your clothes. The room service guy brought our luggage," he stated coldly. I nodded and began to move towards my luggage, but before I could reach it, he yanked me forcefully against his chest. A startled yelp escaped my lips, and before I could react, his lips crashed onto mine in a demanding kiss.

My attempts to wriggle out of his grasp were futile, and I found myself trapped in his arms, feeling suffocated and terrified. His kiss was forceful, his tongue invading my mouth without warning. Panic surged within me, and in my desperation, I bit his lips. He released me abruptly, and the slap that followed was like a searing fire across my cheek. I winced, certain that it would leave a bruise.

"FUCKING KISS ME BACK! YOU ARE MINE, AMELIA HUTTON. UNDERSTAND?" His roar echoed in the room, shattering any semblance of safety I might have felt. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I nodded in fear, his grip on me still tight.

As he moved closer, his fingers brushed the cheek he had just struck. His demeanor shifted, a sickening blend of sweetness and menace. "Oh, baby, does it hurt? You see, I don't want to hurt you, but you leave me with no choice. If you start obeying me, it will do you good. Right?" His tone was almost tender, a stark contrast to his actions.

I nodded again, a trembling mess of emotions and fear. "I like it when you obey me like that. Now go and unpack our bags," he instructed, punctuating his words with a kiss on my forehead. Every fiber of my being recoiled from his touch, his kiss, his very presence.

I took the luggage to the bedroom, my hands shaking as I started to unpack. Amid the mundane task, my thoughts turned to the people I held dear – my Mom, Dad, Jonathan, and Mark. I missed them desperately, wishing I could be with them in the safety and comfort of their company. The overwhelming sense of isolation and dread settled over me, a heavy weight that seemed impossible to shake off.

Hours passed, and the room's atmosphere grew more suffocating as I anticipated his return. I had been turning the situation over in my mind, and I decided that I needed to clarify something. I needed to know if I would have to sleep in the same bed as him tonight. Summoning my courage, I started to speak, my words faltering in my nervousness.

"Ummm...uhh Mr. Hamilton...where...will I..I be sleeping...tonight," I stuttered, my voice barely audible.

"Of course in bed with me, and don't call me Mr. Hamilton. For you, it's Gabriel," he replied with a matter-of-fact tone.

The idea of sharing a bed with him sent shivers down my spine. I struggled to express my discomfort, "But.. but I...I can't.."

"No buts. You have to get used to it. How many times do I have to tell you? I don't like when people disobey me," he scowled, his words hitting me like a verbal blow.

The growing anger within me overpowered my fear. I couldn't bear to continue letting him control my life like this. I needed to stand up to him, to assert myself. Gathering all my strength, I decided to confront him head-on.

"Gabriel, you know what? Fuck you. You can't kidnap me and control me like I'm your pet. I have a family of my own. I have a boyfriend who cares about me. I can't take it anymore. I'm going to report you to the police," I declared firmly, rising to my feet. The weight of the moment was heavy, and using a swear word felt strange coming from my lips. It wasn't something Momma would be proud of, but I knew I had to do whatever it took to ensure my safety and freedom.

"You think you're going to report me?" he scoffed. "Sure, go ahead. But let me tell you, your claims won't hold any weight. And don't even think about raising your voice to me. I've made it clear, you belong to me. If you continue to defy me, I might have to resort to more forceful measures." His words cut through the air with a mix of mockery and anger. My body quivered with fear, his intense expression and clenched jaw sending shivers down my spine.

I watched in fear as he removed his belt from his pants. Panic surged through me. No, he couldn't be serious. He wouldn't actually... The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn't want to get beaten, to feel that pain. I began to back away from him, my heart pounding wildly.

His belt was now clasped around his fist, and my eyes widened in terror. Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn't stop my body from trembling. He advanced towards me, and my steps back turned into desperate retreat. I wanted to scream, to call for help, but my voice caught in my throat.

Suddenly, he was right in front of me, and the belt lashed out at me. The pain was blinding, and I cried out loudly. Each lash was like a wave of agony crashing over me. I sobbed uncontrollably, my pleas and cries echoing in the room. Why wasn't anyone coming to help me? Why was I trapped in this nightmare?

"Now angel, this will teach you to lower your voice at me and obey," he hissed, delivering one final lash before leaving the room. The stinging pain was unbearable, and I could feel the welt forming on my skin. I collapsed by the bed, my body wracked with pain and sobs. No one had ever hurt me like this, not even my own parents. I clutched my arms to my chest, where the belt marks now marred my skin.

As I cried, I felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. I was trapped, powerless, and alone. I curled up on the bed, my body exhausted from the ordeal. With tears still wet on my cheeks, I closed my eyes, my thoughts a jumble of fear, pain, and a desperate plea for escape.