ERICA The room was quiet, almost too quiet. The dim light of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, and the muffled hum of the city filtered through the blinds. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, unable to shut my mind off. My body was still sore, but the real pain wasn’t physical. I shifted slightly in the bed, wincing as a dull ache shot through my ribs. The room smelled like antiseptic, sharp and sterile, reminding me that this wasn’t home—not that Raffael’s mansion ever felt like home either. Clarissa. Her name burned in my chest like acid. I couldn’t forget the look on her face when she leaned over me, pretending to care, her fake smile masking the venom underneath. She had kissed Raffael right in front of me, like she owned him, like she was marking her territory. And maybe she did own him. That thought sent a fresh wave of bitterness through me. Raffael hadn’t even noticed. He hadn’t noticed how tense I was, how I flinched every time Clarissa moved
ERICA Time seemed to tick too fast tonight. My eyes remained glued to the wall clock that hung in my cramped living room. It was already close to midnight, and yet my father still wasn’t home. It wasn’t unusual for him to come home late, but not this late. He was usually back by eleven, or ten on good days. Where is that man, for goodness' sake!? Could he still be at the bar drinking? Had he passed out somewhere? Was he safe? Had he gotten himself into another street fight? An annoyed huff left my lips as I sharply got up from the couch, pacing around the living room to clear my thoughts. The approaching footsteps of my younger sister snapped me out of my disturbing thoughts, and I quickly turned to face her. "Erica, are you still awake?" my younger sister, Lilibeth, asked, concern in her eyes as she approached me. I nodded as she embraced me, hugging me tightly. “Yeah, can’t sleep. He’s not back yet.” "Do you think he will come back tonight?" Lilibeth asked as she pull
ERICAAs I rushed down the street, my heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but from fear. A sleek black car had been trailing me for the past few blocks. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid—maybe it was just another car heading in the same direction. But after three turns, each more random than the last, it was still there. I glanced back again, trying to act casual, but my palms were already clammy.Who would be following me? My mind raced through possibilities—was it someone from work? A random creep?The car slowed down slightly as I crossed the street, its headlights washing over me like a spotlight. The feeling of being watched crawled under my skin. “Okay, Erica, breathe,” I muttered under my breath. “If it’s still there tonight, I’ll call the cops.”I picked up my pace, eager to get to work, hoping that once I stepped inside the restaurant, the world would feel a little safer. But the lingering sense of dread coiled tight in my stomach.I rushed through the crowded stre
ERICAThe room was suffocatingly silent, save for the steady thrum of my racing heart in my ears. My breath hitched as the cool metal of the gun pressed firmly against my temple, sending shivers down my spine. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t move.He stood there, the man who held the gun to my head, towering over me. His presence filled the room, sucking out the air like a storm brewing right in front of me. His suit, dark, was tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders.His face was sharp, every angle chiseled to perfection, but it was his eyes that truly paralyzed me—dark, bottomless pools of rage and control, yet disturbingly calm, as if he had done this a thousand times before.Everything about him screamed power, control, violence."Oh, I must say, Thomas. I never knew you had such pretty daughters. First, I meet Lilibeth, and now I’m meeting Erica. Two beautiful girls." His voice was accented, smooth yet menacing.Who is this man? How does he know me
ERICAThe air was thick, suffocating, as I stood frozen in the middle of the room, my heart still pounding from the horrific encounter. I couldn’t seem to move. My legs felt like they had turned to lead, my arms numb by my sides.Twenty-four hours. That’s all I had to prepare myself. Twenty-four hours before I was no longer just Erica, the girl struggling to make ends meet, but Erica, the stripper, the servant. The thought made me nauseous. How had my life come to this?A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined him looming over me again, his cold fingers tracing my skin like I was some object to be toyed with.Suddenly, I heard a soft sob behind me. Lilibeth. I spun around to see her huddled against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest, tears streaming down her face.“I don’t want to die, Erica,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, her wide, terrified eyes locking with mine. “What are we going to do?”My heart broke seeing her like this. My little sister, so scared and so
ERICA The train station was louder than I expected. People bustled about, bags slung over shoulders. My heart pounded, and I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. Every stranger with a cold expression made my stomach churn. My palms were slick with sweat, gripping Lilibeth’s hand tighter than I probably should. Lilibeth, beside me, trembled, her small fingers twisting in the hem of her sweater. Her eyes darted around, wide with fear. I knew she was scared—I could feel it radiating off her like heat. “We’ll be okay,” I whispered, pulling her close as we moved through the crowd. My voice was calm, even though every nerve in my body was screaming. “Once we get to Aunt Rosa’s, everything will be fine. We’ll be safe there. We can start over.” Lilibeth looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “But what about Dad? He’s all alone now. What if Raffael—” her voice wavered. I clenched my jaw, forcing down the bitterness. “Dad can take care of himself
ERICA I sat in tense silence, gripping the fabric of my dress, now stained with dirt and sand. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest, it felt as if the whole world could hear its frantic beat. I tried to ignore the incessant thumping of my heart and focus on the world outside the car, the bustling streets that overflowed with life, a blend of movement, color, and sound at every corner. But it was of no use as long as that monster sat next to me. I took side glances of him, trying so hard not to make it obvious.Raffael sat a few seats away, his cold presence suffocating the space between us. He looked utterly formidable—maniacal and ruthless, exuding a terrifying sense of control.How could my father do this to me? To Lilibeth? Now I’ve been sold off to this man against my will to clear up a debt I never knew off. It all felt like a terrible nightmare to me, one I badly wanted to wake up from. My fingernails sank into my skin, leaving behind marks and cuts as we drove further
ERICA The kitchen was filled with the sizzling aroma of bacon, eggs, and toast. I had only intended to prepare a simple breakfast, but the smell of everything cooking made it feel like much more. Every few moments, I glanced at the digital clock on the wall, racing against time to get breakfast ready as early as possible. Sometimes, it felt surreal—like a bad dream I could not wake up from. This was what my life had come to: a maid and a stripper. And Lilibeth, locked away in some villa, treated like a prisoner. Honestly, it felt like things couldn’t get any worse. Yesterday, Romano gave me a tour of the mansion, and I had to admit—it was even more luxurious than I had ever imagined. In the backyard, a large pool sparkled in the sunlight, surrounded by comfortable lounge chairs and palm trees. The backyard stretched far, with a fountain in the center and a perfectly manicured lawn that seemed to go on forever. Since I had only arrived last evening and had not fully settled in yet
ERICA The room was quiet, almost too quiet. The dim light of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, and the muffled hum of the city filtered through the blinds. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, unable to shut my mind off. My body was still sore, but the real pain wasn’t physical. I shifted slightly in the bed, wincing as a dull ache shot through my ribs. The room smelled like antiseptic, sharp and sterile, reminding me that this wasn’t home—not that Raffael’s mansion ever felt like home either. Clarissa. Her name burned in my chest like acid. I couldn’t forget the look on her face when she leaned over me, pretending to care, her fake smile masking the venom underneath. She had kissed Raffael right in front of me, like she owned him, like she was marking her territory. And maybe she did own him. That thought sent a fresh wave of bitterness through me. Raffael hadn’t even noticed. He hadn’t noticed how tense I was, how I flinched every time Clarissa moved
ERICA My chest still heaved, the weight of what had just happened crushing me from the inside out. Clarissa’s words echoed in my ears like a broken record. “You’re nothing but a pest that needs to be exterminated.” She was gone now, but the fear lingered, crawling up my spine and settling in the pit of my stomach. My throat burned from the screams I hadn’t dared to let out. I stared at the door, half-expecting her to burst back in, pillow in hand, ready to finish what she’d started. But instead, it swung open slowly, and a different figure stepped in. Raffael. I didn’t know if I should feel relief or resentment. He strolled in with his usual commanding presence, his eyes sharp as they landed on me. “Still awake,” he said, his voice low but firm. He came closer, his gaze flickering over my face before settling on the untouched tray of food Romano had brought earlier. His expression darkened. “You haven’t eaten,” he snapped, picking up the tray and holding it in front of me like
ERICA The white walls of the hospital room felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating me with their sterile brightness. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was a cruel metronome, marking the endless minutes I spent in silence. The ache in my chest had nothing to do with my injuries—it was the hollow emptiness of waiting. Waiting for him. It had been an entire day. Twenty-four hours since Raffael had walked out, his anger sharp and biting, his words cutting deeper than the wound on my head. I hadn’t expected him to apologize; that wasn’t who Raffael was. But I had expected… something. A glimpse of concern, even if it was disguised as irritation. I stared at the clock on the wall, the second hand ticking forward relentlessly. Morning had turned to afternoon, then evening, and still no sign of him. Why does it matter? I scolded myself. You wanted him to leave you alone. You wanted space. But the ache in my chest betrayed me. It did matter. And that infuriated me. I trie
ERICA When I opened my eyes, the whiteness almost blinded me. The room was so bright it felt unnatural, like stepping into a void. The walls, the ceiling, the sheets—everything was searingly white, almost sterile. A faint, rhythmic beeping filled the air, syncing with the pounding in my head. I blinked a few times, my vision blurry, and tried to move. The slightest shift made my head throb, the pain radiating down my neck. I groaned softly, squeezing my eyes shut. Where was I? The smell of antiseptic answered the question before my brain could catch up. A hospital. I was in a hospital. But why? Then it all hit me at once. Running. The woods. The tree. The crash. Raffael. The memories came in flashes, disjointed and overwhelming. I remembered his voice chasing me through the night, the fear that drove me to keep running, the moment my body slammed into the tree. My stomach turned, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I lifted my hand to touch my head, but something stopped me.
ERICA I didn’t dare look back. Every part of me screamed to stop, to rest, but the fear pounding in my chest wouldn’t let me. My legs moved on their own, fueled by pure adrenaline, while the cold night air bit at my skin. My heart hammered wildly, my lungs burned, and every desperate breath felt like it wasn’t enough. Behind me, his voice rose, sharp and angry, cutting through the still night like a blade. “Erica! Stop!” Raffael’s shout carried authority, the kind that could make someone freeze on instinct. Not me. Not tonight. I gritted my teeth, pushing myself harder, my steps quick and uneven. “No!” I yelled over my shoulder, the word raw and trembling. My voice felt small, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the dark street. “I can’t! You don’t understand—I have to go!” “You’re only making this worse for yourself!” he bellowed. His voice sounded closer, and I felt a shiver run through me. “Stop now, or you’ll regret it!” Regret? His words pierced my mind, their meaning twis
ERICA The sharp beam of headlights cut through the darkness, washing over me. I froze, clutching my bag so tightly to my chest that I felt the rough fabric dig into my palms. My heart pounded wildly, each thud echoing in my ears and drowning out the gentle symphony of chirping crickets.Why is he back so early? Did he forget anything? Damn! Of all the days he decided to come back early! Breathe, Erica. Think. I dropped to the ground, scrambling into the bushes near the gate. The thorny branches scratched my arms and snagged the hem of my shirt, but I barely noticed. My focus was entirely on keeping my breathing steady, shallow, silent. The car door opened. Even without seeing his face, I knew it was him. Raffael. His broad shoulders caught the faint glow of the car’s interior light. His movements were deliberate, calm. Every step he took exuded an unshakable confidence, as if he already knew exactly what he’d find. No. He couldn’t have seen me. He couldn’t. I pressed my body lo
ERICA The mop’s handle felt rough against my palm as I wrung out the damp cloth for the third time. I had been scrubbing the tiles in Raffael’s bedroom for almost half an hour, and the smell of disinfectant clung to my skin. My body ached from the punishment he had given me yesterday, the heat of the sun still haunting my memory. I could still feel the prickling sensation on my knees, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw his cold, unbothered expression as he told me to stay there until he decided I’d had enough. “Just focus,” I muttered to myself, trying to push the thoughts aside. The room was unnervingly spotless. His black bedsheets were always tucked in with military precision. His furniture gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead light. Even the air carried his scent—a mix of musk and cedarwood that felt suffocating. Cleaning his room felt like walking on thin ice; everything about him was sharp, calculated, and terrifying. I moved to the counter near the far wall, wipi
ERICA The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing the kitchen in a soft golden glow. I tried to keep my head down and stay as far away from Raffael as possible. He was seated in the dining area, a newspaper folded neatly on the table and a stack of papers in front of him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a pen in his hand as he occasionally jotted down notes. It was one of the rare moments when the house felt somewhat peaceful, even if the air was still heavy with his presence. I focused on scrubbing a stubborn stain off the counter, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. “Erica,” his deep voice cut through the silence, making me jump slightly. I turned around, gripping the cloth in my hand. “Yes?” “Coffee,” he said without looking up. “Bring me a cup.” I nodded quickly. “Right away.” Keeping my movements as quiet as possible, I set about making his coffee. The machine whirred softly, the aroma of freshly brewed espresso filling the air. As I poured the stea
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