The next day, Rebecca woke up feeling groggy. Something that wasn't new for her, having gotten used to sleeping on the floor for so long. What was new, though, was the slight warmth and comfort from her blanket and pillow. Both which should’ve been so worn out, she wouldn’t feel any comfort from them. ‘Why do they feel different?’ she wondered.Opening her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room and instantly sat up in stupor. “Where am-?!” She stopped her question, recalling what happened last night. “Oh, that's right. I was sold off.”It may have been of her own volition, but Rebecca couldn't believe her own father sold her to pay off his debt. Granted, she was not sold as a slave, and her owner was someone she was somewhat acquainted with. However, she had doubts that either made her situation any better."For now, I should probably just get up,” she figured. At least as a pet she still had some form of freedom. Best not push that luck, though.As she rose to her feet, the d
One quick shower later, Rebecca emerged from the bathroom refreshed, wearing some new clothes, as Christian had promised her. At first, she had thought she was to be given some hand-me-downs to wear, when she truly was given some freshly new clothes. Words could never describe her surprise from this. Why, she ever asked the girl who delivered the clothes if she had given them to the right person. A question that gave her quite the response."You have a problem with these?"If she was given old, worn out clothes, Rebecca would understand the response given. The ones delivered, though, were relatively new, as far as she could tell from the cleanliness. More than that, the mafia woman did not seem angered or annoyed when she gave her answer.‘Even though I’m just a pet? Or is it because I am not yet a slave?’ she wondered, looking down at the new shirt and pants she was wearing in puzzlement, plain as they may be, as she gave them a feel. 'It has to be because Christian did not label me
Rebecca shuddered as she sat in the back of the limo, her head down with a black bag over it, her eyes further covered by a blindfold, and her mouth gagged. Her hands were tied together, and rested on her bare lap, preventing her from even rubbing her arms for warmth from the cold emitting out the air conditioner. “Aww. What’s the matter? Feeling a little cold?” came a voice on her right. One with much chill in his tone, as Rebecca flinched upon feeling a large hand rest on her thigh, massaging it in a suggestive way. “Cut it out, Jared. You know the lord won’t be happy if you do something to his property,” a stern voice warned from her left. “What? It’s not my fault she has to wear that rag. Surely she must be feeling cold from the strong air conditioning in here. I’m just trying to help her get comfortable.” “And you think the lord will take that excuse? You know how he is.” At that warning, to Rebecca’s relief, the hand left her person. ‘Why?’ she wondered then. ‘Why am I in
Once they arrived at their destination, Rebecca was guided out of the car towards their supposed hideout. The bag and blindfold were still on her, to her dismay. Though she supposed it was better having them on. At least to avoid noticing whatever unwanted gaze will be on her. Much like one certain gaze she could feel behind her. “You’re kind of slowing down back here. Come on, pick up the pace,” the owner of said gaze told her, giving her a slap on her butt. Rebecca let out a yelp from the smack, and felt her face collide against someone’s back, coming to a stop. “Do you have a death wish or something?” the man in front questioned, sending chills to her spines from the cold tone he used. “What? She was moving a bit slow,” the man behind her claimed. Rebecca, however, knew that was but a lie, given how close the man in front of her was. She couldn’t be that slow, and she hoped he knew that as well. “Boner, I know you are new here and that you have yet to meet our lord. However,
All eyes turned to Boner as he spoke, walking over to Christian. “Maybe you’ve been living in your perfect little world for long enough, but in real life? Things are not sunshine and rainbows. Especially not in the life of a mafia. You should know that, shouldn’t you. Don’t you still attend school like a good boy~?” All around her, Rebecca could notice some light sighs and head shakes from a few people watching the interaction. Was this normal in a mafia? For someone to disrespect their leader in such a manner? Shouldn’t someone stop him? “Boner. What did I just tell you earlier?” Retchet warned, in which Boner scoffed at. “Ah, come on. You can’t really be telling me you’re all scared of him? Regardless of who he is in the surface world, in the underground that is the mafia- especially for people like us- that means nothing here.” Boner then leaned closer to Christian and, to Rebecca’s astonishment, took a few whiffs at him. “Heh. He even smells like a weakling. A spoiled brat like
Christian and Retchet turned to Rebecca with raised brows. “I beg your pardon? You’re going to pay off that bastard’s debt?” Christian questioned. “A bastard he may be, he is still my dad,” Rebecca argued. “Besides, he may have offered to sold me, but I already volunteered myself first! You said you did not like how my father is running from his problems, and honestly, neither did I. But he’s the only family I have left. The one man my mother died believing in. This may be my dad’s problem, but it’s also my problem now!” It was silent when Rebecca said that. Christian only stared at her with narrow eyes. Judging her, observing her action. Although it was painfully obvious how hard she was trying to put on that tough act, she still stared back at him with such determination. Teary and wavering, yes, with her hands trembling and lips a bit tense, but she still stood before him. “Seems I’m not the only one hiding my claws,” he said in slight amusement, before inching closer to her. “
"This is the lord’s room. Make yourself comfortable,” Retchet told Rebecca, as they stopped in front of a door with various ‘Do Not Enter’ or ‘Keep Out’ labels right on it, complete with a barricade tape forming a large ‘X’ on it. After walking up several steps from that meeting room, Rebecca had assumed she would be taken to the car to Christian’s house. Her hands were finally out of the cuffs on the walk up- most likely to avoid any suspicions when they exit out this hideout. She did not expect to just be taken to a different room on a different floor. Much less for the door before them to be one leading to Christian’s room. Retchet noticed the perplexed expression and asked, “Is something wrong?” While unsure about asking him, Rebecca grew too curious about the situation before her and spoke, “I thought Christian doesn’t live here.” Retchet narrowed his eyes at the statement and said, “It’s ‘Master’ to you. Don’t forget, you’re his pet now.” Rebecca flinched at the reminder, b
Christian was tired of it all. He was tired of these men trying to make a fool out of him. Tired of life at school, where many people bathe in his presence- be it fans fawning over him, or teammates wanting to share the glory he brings. He was also tired of the teachers trying to get on his good side, mainly the females. All because of who his father was. Rather… who his ‘caretaker’ was.Although he is of the Riverdale family, he is but an adopted son. No, he was just being taken care of by them. Yet, despite that, not only did anyone not mind the indirect relationship with such (distinguished) family- not when he had the skills and smarts to back it up- he never felt like a part of the family. Not because he was never treated well there, but more because he himself never bothered to get close to them. Not his adopted family, not the servants, nobody. Not after what happened to his mother in that household.Although he could not remember her face, he could still remember it well. The