ERICA Hot breath hovered over my skin, teeth grazing my flesh, and nails digging deep into it. I could feel his arousal hard against me as he caged me, his body firmly pressed onto mine. Bruising kisses scattered across my skin, and I whimpered, too drained to even scream or fight back. “Tonight, I’ll show you exactly what you are,” his dark tone whispered into my ear. “Raffael!” I screamed, jolting upright from the bed at once. My breath came in labored and rugged, sweat beads coating my forehead even though the room wasn’t hot at all. I placed a hand on my chest, trying to steady my frantic breathing and heartbeat as I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Trailing my gaze to the clock in my room, I was shocked to find it was ten minutes past six. Had I slept through the entire day? Hurriedly, I stepped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up so I could prepare dinner. Ever since my terrible encounter with Raffael at the club a few days ago, where he practica
ERICA The sound of laughter and clinking glasses drifted up from the living room as I stood in front of the mirror, tugging nervously at the hem of the dress Raffael had chosen for me. It was a sleek black gown that hugged my figure in all the right places, yet it felt like a prison. Every inch of fabric reminded me of who had sent it—Raffael. Why does he always have to control everything? I smoothed the soft fabric and let out a shaky breath. The thought of stepping into that room full of people made my stomach churn. What if he found something to criticize? What if he ignored me completely? I wish! The latter felt like a great mercy. Hopefully he won't notice my appearance and I'll be left alone. With trembling hands, I slipped on my heels, taking one last look in the mirror. My reflection looked calm, collected, even confident. Inside, I was anything but calm. As I opened the door, the music and chatter grew louder, the muffled hum now sharp and vibrant. Each step toward
CLARISSADAYS LATER The penthouse was bathed in the amber glow of the evening sun as Raffael and I stepped inside. I had suggested that we spend time in one of his pent houses to celebrate his latest business contract and also to spend time together. The sleek, minimalist decor screamed luxury, but to me, it felt cold—like the man walking beside me. He moved with his usual commanding presence, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his expression unreadable. As the door clicked shut behind us, I tried to fill the silence with small talk. Did you see the latest article about you? They called you ‘the king of the underworld empire.’ Quite the title, don’t you think?” I said with a light laugh, watching for any reaction. “Hm,” he replied, loosening his tie as he strode toward the living room. I followed, biting my lip. He always gave me so little to work with. “Maybe I should start calling you Your Majesty,” I teased, hoping for at least a smirk. Instead, he sank onto the edge of the
ERICA I lay there in the dimly lit living room, staring at the ceiling, the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen the only sound. My body felt heavy, like it didn’t belong to me anymore. My head throbbed, the pain pulsing with each beat of my heart, and my throat was raw—prickling with the ache of something that could only get worse. The clock on the wall blinked 10:05 PM. I should’ve been at the club by now. My outfit for today—sparkly, skimpy, just the way he liked it—was folded neatly on the chair in my room, waiting for me to put it on and get to work. But I didn’t have the strength. Tonight, I couldn’t go. I couldn’t make myself. My body was burning with fever, my muscles aching, my head fogged. But I knew I’d have to go anyway. Raffael owned me—he had me by the throat. I worked the nights at the club to pay off the debt that was never-ending, always looming. Still, part of me wished I didn’t have to go tonight. The thought of spending another night in that cage,
CLARISSA The neon lights of the strip club buzzed faintly as I stepped inside, the stale air thick with cheap perfume and sweat. My stiletto heels clicked against the tiled floor as I walked with purpose, a wad of cash clutched in my hand. I didn’t want to be here, especially not to deal with the likes of Daisy, Chloe, and Melanie, but they’d left me no choice. I hated this place—the flashing lights, the lecherous men, and especially her. Erica. She was the root of all my problems, a constant thorn in my side. If Raffael didn’t have his obsession with her, my life would’ve been perfect. Instead, I was here, trying to keep three dancers from spilling my secrets to him. The dressing room door creaked as I pushed it open. I inhaled sharply, masking my irritation with a haughty expression. The smell of cheap perfume was overwhelming, mingling with the sweat and smoke that seemed to cling to everything in this place. Inside, the girls were lounging, preparing for their next show. D
CLARISSA The neon lights of the strip club were a blur in my rearview mirror as I sped away, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Chloe’s words wouldn’t stop replaying in my mind. “Maybe he even warmed her bed while he was at it.” No. Raffael wouldn’t. He couldn’t. My chest tightened as doubt slithered into my thoughts. What if there was a grain of truth in their taunts? The idea of him comforting Erica, touching her, or even thinking about her in a way that wasn’t pure disdain made my stomach churn. The buzzing of my phone broke through my spiraling thoughts. I glanced at the screen and saw my mother’s name. Reluctantly, I picked it up, putting it on speaker. “Clarissa,” my mother began, her tone annoyingly upbeat, “Mrs. Aurora and I have arranged a dinner with Raffael. It’s time we start discussing your wedding plans.” A flicker of relief softened the tight knot in my chest. This was what I wanted—a future with Raffael. A life where I stood by
RAFFAEL The chandelier above cast a soft glow over the dining room, highlighting the silverware and expensive crystal glasses. My mother, sat at the head of the table with an air of quiet authority. Across from her, Mrs. Taylor Cutter, Clarissa’s overbearing mother, adjusted her necklace, a smug smile tugging at her lips. Clarissa sat beside me, her hand resting on my arm. She looked serene, but the way her nails dug into my skin told me otherwise. When my mother informed me that I'd have to host Clarissa and her mother for dinner, I knew it was just another avenue for the three of them to get under my skin and try to convince me to hasten up my wedding plans with Clarissa. Fuck. I groaned within myself. I fucking dont want to get married talk more of doing it with Clarissa. The only damn reason I'm stuck in this shit trap is because of our family ties. My later father had arranged for my marriage to Clarissa even before I was born. The Cutters and my family were not only friend
ERICA I trudged outside, the trash dragging behind me. The cold air ran through my hairs, blowing tendrils of it across my face. The night sky was already in its full glory, stars coating the horizon and the luminous moon providing its natural light to my pathway. In as much as I tried to ignore it, the stinging jabs and subtle insults that Clarissa and her mother melted out to me wouldn't leave my head. They really called me a thief. Had I ever stolen from either of them before? First his mother insulted and poured juice on me, called me all sorts of names under the son and then his fiancèe and her mother do same under the guise of subtle insults. "Saying she had seen me at the garden party lurking around, what the fuck does that even mean? When have I ever even attended a dumb garden party? An avenue for rich folks to show off their wealth. God." I groaned out in frustration. I knew better than to retort back at her or try to defend myself that was why I kept being silent an
ERICA The tension in the air felt suffocating as I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been over thirty minutes since Raffael had ordered me upstairs, and I had obeyed like a scolded child. Now, thirst clawed at my throat, the dryness an excuse to leave this room that felt more like a prison with every passing second. But I hesitated. What if Raffael was still downstairs? He’d told me to go to my room, and I wasn’t sure how he’d react if he saw me wandering around. I hated the thought of facing him—his dark eyes filled with whatever storm brewed behind them. Still, I reasoned with myself, I couldn’t stay in here forever. It was just water. If he asked, I’d explain. Simple. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of conversation coming from downstairs. As I walked cautiously, the murmur of voices grew louder. Passing by the door to Raffael’s study, I paused. The door
ERICA Days blurred into each other, heavy with an oppressive silence that seemed to cling to the walls of Raffael’s house. I spent most of my time holed up in the kitchen or my room, avoiding him whenever possible. It had been days since that night at the club, and I hadn’t seen much of him since. I should’ve been relieved. Grateful, even. But the memory of his touch lingered like an unwelcome ghost, refusing to fade. I hated myself for how easily I’d given in, for how my body had betrayed me in that moment. What’s wrong with you, Erica? I thought bitterly as I stirred a pot of marinara sauce on the stove. You’re supposed to be smarter than this. Stronger than this. I told myself I was lucky. Raffael had kept his distance, only appearing sporadically in the house, leaving me to my own devices. I prayed it would stay that way. The less I saw him, the better. I was just plating the pasta when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me. My heart jumped, and I froze, gripping th
ERICA The dressing room smelled of cheap perfume and stale cigarettes. It wasn't a smell you ever got used to, no matter how long you worked here. My reflection in the mirror stared back at me, a hollow version of myself I barely recognized anymore. A week had passed since I was discharged from the hospital, and here I was, back to this. Back to dancing for men who saw me as nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. It was another long, soul-draining night. I adjusted the straps of my skimpy outfit, the sequins scratching against my skin. The music from the club thudded faintly through the walls, a relentless reminder of the world I had to step into. "Erica!" Ray, the club manager, poked his head into the dressing room. His face was pinched, his voice sharp as always. "Raffael sent for you.“ My stomach clenched. Raffael. Just hearing his name made my pulse race and my skin crawl with a confusing mix of fear and... something else I didn't want to name. Why would he send for me now
ERICAThe sterile scent of antiseptic stung my nose before my eyes even opened. Blinding white light flooded my vision as I blinked, the steady hum of a heart monitor filling the room. My throat felt dry, like sandpaper, and I swallowed, trying to remember what had happened.I had been kidnapped. Bound. Starved. But I was saved.Raffael saved me. He carried me like I was the most fragile creature in the world.The last thing I remembered was collapsing in his arms, exhaustion overtaking me. Now, I was here in this stark hospital room. How long had I been unconscious? A day? Two? Where was Raffael? More importantly, why had I been kidnapped? I had no enemies—at least none I could think of.Unless… it had something to do with Raffael.Of course it did. He was a crime boss. Someone must have taken me to get to him. Either I was bait, or they planned to kill me to send him a message.My thoughts shattered when the door to the ward burst open, slamming against the wall. I jumped, gasping a
ERICA A DAY LATER The air was suffocating, thick with the stench of mold and decay. I was cold, shaking uncontrollably, my wrists raw from the ropes biting into my skin. The faint light from the crack above barely touched the darkness around me. I had been here for a day already, fed with nothing but dried bread and water. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t stop the tears sliding down my face. Will I make it out alive? What if Raffael never finds me? God please, just save me. I heard footsteps approaching, slow and deliberate. The door creaked open again, and this time, it was not just the driver. Another one followed him in, taller and broader, with a sneer plastered across his face. My stomach twisted and dread washed over me. "Well, well, look at her," the driver said, his voice filled with cruel amusement. He moved closer, and I tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The taller man grinned, his eyes raking over me. "You didn't tell me she was t
ERICA I woke up with a sharp pain in my head. It felt like someone had hit me with a hammer. My body was cold, and the floor underneath me was hard and damp. I tried to move, but something was stopping me. I tugged at my arms and legs and realized they were tied up. My hands were bound tightly behind my back, and my legs were tied too, keeping me in one spot. I blinked, trying to see, but the room was so dark. I couldn't make out anything. All I could smell was the horrible stench of mold and something rotten. My stomach turned, and I gagged, but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. The air was thick with the smell, and the more I breathed it in, the sicker I felt. Where am I? How did I get here? Then it hit me. I left the club, trying to avoid the drizzle and hailed down the first cab I could see. I just wanted to get home and rest, atleast have a bit of peace before Raffael and Clarissa stirred trouble for me. But then the driver took a different route and when I
RAFFAEL I ambled towards the house, a migraine throbbing at the side of my head. I felt so exhausted and drained. I had spent the entire night in my office, going over countless files and documents that seemed not to end. The port authorities were a serious pain in the ass not to mention the fuckers that hijacked my goods days ago. I still could not believe my capos had not tracked them yet. I give them one job to do and they are being so lazy about it! If not that I had other pressing issues at hand, I'd have killed the bastards that dared to steal from me. Currently right now, I was working on finding who had the audacity to send me a death threat via text message. I wasn't surprised though. This is the mafia and my life is a ticking time bomb. I had numerous enemies but my ability to crush them all was what kept me at the top. And may hell receive the soul of the cunt that sent that message to my phone. I'd make sure he meets his creator. My insiders , though t
ERICA The sound of muffled music from the club’s main floor still throbbed in my ears as I sat on the bench in the dressing room, my fingers fumbling to untie the straps of my heels. My entire body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry, sore and weak. The hours I’d spent on the stage felt heavier tonight, and the exhaustion dug deeper into my bones. I threw the heels into my bag, the clatter breaking the quiet of the room. For a moment, I sat there, letting my head fall into my hands. The dizziness hadn’t left since Raffael had locked me in that room, leaving me with nothing but my anger and hunger. No food. No water. Just silence and the four walls pressing in on me. He hadn’t said a word when he let me out hours later, his face a mask of cold indifference. The only thing he cared about was making sure I got to my shift on time. I bit my lip, trying to push the memory away, but it clung to me, suffocating and unrelenting. The note he’d sent at the grocery store fl
ERICA The soft hum of the supermarket's air conditioning was a small comfort as I strolled through the aisles, picking up the essentials. We were low on some groceries and dairy products so I decided to venture to the super market this morning but not before informing Raffael by the way. Atleast I could get that done and off my list before I prepare for the night work at that fucking club again. Right now, what I had in my cart was a loaf of bread, a carton of milk, some fresh vegetables. It was mundane, but it felt like a slice of normalcy in the chaotic storm that my life had become. For a few minutes, I could pretend that I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder. For some reason I felt being watched. But would Raffael be crazy enough to track my every movement down to the super market? I doubt not. I can’t run away from him that’s for sure, he had left me no choice to do that. I turned into the cereal aisle, scanning the shelves for something cheap but filling.