ACCEPTANCE

I found myself staring at the staircase Alejandro had disappeared into and stood for a very long while.

He’d left my mind reeling, what did he want from me? What the hell was going on? Every emotion I felt came rushing in at once and I found myself looking for the nearest bathroom.

I ran through multiple doors before I finally found one. The fear of stinking of his house, made me hold in my vomit a bit longer till I could find the water closet.

I heaved everything I’d ever eaten in the past couple of days, which was not much, into the toilet. When all I had left was air, I slumped against the tiles, my vision going out.

I opened my eyes after what felt like days to me but was most likely minutes. A few hours ago, I was in Philadelphia, a place I hated with passion but had come to tolerate, because it was my only means of survival.

At least, I had a job and a shack I called home. Not anymore. Not since Alejandro and Capello decided to walk in on my death sentence.

I should’ve died that night. It would’ve ended there, but my wonderful luck, which I’d never had, decided to run out on me. Alejandro was a man of his words and he’d get what he wanted from me, whatever the fuck it was, however, I had no idea what I was supposed to do in the mean time that he hadn’t?

Surely, he didn’t expect me to stay indoors all day and laze around till when he was comfortable enough to sit me down and interrogate me.

Deciding to not think too much, I decided to have a quick shower. I reeked of vomit and blood, a distasteful and disgusting combination.

After washing up, I walked out of the bathroom and realised it was attached to a room with a bed. The room seemed ordinary, something you’d find in a modest home and I wondered if I was in the ‘servant’ quarters.

My hands were still purple from the cuffing and my shoulder and head hurt like a bitch. The amount of blood I had washed away from my skin had me thinking I had a bullet hole somewhere in my body that I couldn’t see or reach.

I went back into the bathroom and searched the cabinet for medical supplies. Living with a monster, one was bound to get hurt, right?

I found the first aid kit and took something for the headache and a bandage for my head where I bled. Alejandro didn’t care if I lived or died. If I lived, he’d get what he wanted and then kill me. ‘Not a lot of fun options there’ I thought to myself.

I took a look at myself in the mirror and almost gasped. I looked terrible. My hair was a bird’s nest, my face was red and streaked with tears but what wasn’t surprising was the color of my eyes. A once lively blue-green was now dull and dead. There were eye bags beneath my eye and my lips were set in a thin, firm line.

I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled truthfully. Anselmo and I joked around but it wasn’t like the real thing. Anselmo had seen me at the airport, the day I finally returned from Florence after my parent’s burial and I’d almost keeled over from not eating well.

He’d helped me up and found me something to eat. That act of kindness made me open up to him a little about my situation and he offered me a job at his bakery.

Anselmo had taken on the role of a father to me and made sure I ate good enough and had a place to rest my head. The pay was meager, but it kept a roof, albeit shaky, over my head.

I thought about how worried he’d be about me when he didn’t see me at the bakery. Alejandro hadn’t given me time to pack anything, pick up anything or even phone anyone. I didn’t have an actual phone, but I could’ve used a public one to phone Anselmo and tell him I wouldn’t be coming to work in a while.

I wiped the tears on my face as I remembered the life Alejandro had torn me from. I was just slowly starting to get back on my feet and he’d utterly destroyed everything. So much so that I could not start again, for what was the point if I was going to be dead in a few days?

I’d been uprooted from a life and haphazardly thrown into a new one. What was I going to do? How was I going to survive? I didn’t even have clothes to wear and I didn’t think I was allowed to eat. I was his prisoner.

I found myself staggering to the bed in the simple room. Exhaustion had crept into my bones and I found my eyes closing. Whatever Alejandro required of me, he would have to tell me himself, there was no was I would go out of my way to find him or talk to him.

***

“Arianna Bocelli!!!!” I jerked awake, almost falling over the bed. I heard my name again, this time with a little more madness, because who the fuck would be shouting the house down so early in the morning? The sun wasn’t even out yet.

I quickly put on my slippers. Not my slippers, Fibonacci’s. I felt nauseated as I wore it because my kidnappers hadn’t let me even breathe when they’d carried me to meet Fibonacci. I shuddered as I realised what would have happened if I was the kind that slept naked.

In the heat of things and a screaming match, Capello had tugged off Fibonacci’s slippers and handed it to me. It would have been a kind gesture if it wasn’t completely soaked in blood. Even after washing it in the bathroom, I still felt disgusted, but what could I do? It was either that or having to walk on very hot gravel stones.

I was out of breath by the time I reached the owner of the voice. He had his suit draped across the couch in the living room but there was a tick in his jaw. I felt fear like never before. Something about him made me want to run in the opposite direction but his narrowed gaze kept me in place.

“You answer when I call your name.” I gulped at his set jaw and nodded, unable to say anything. I'd found it jarring that he called me my actual name, a name I hadn't used in years, that hadn't been used in years.

I would be lying to myself if I didn't think that it - he somehow held power over me.

“It’s amusing that a prisoner thinks she’s free to do whatever she wants.” I wanted to scowl at him but I kept up a mask of indifference.

“You will do as I say. You will cook, you will clean…” He approached me, close enough for our chests to almost meet.

“You will be used.” My eyes widened slightly at the implication of his words. I jerked back involuntarily hating the look I saw in his eyes. I tried not to think too much about his last statement.

“When I get back, I want to see this place sparkling. Like I said, you have something I want, and until I get it, consider yourself my maid, chef, slave...whatever.”