To tame the wild horse

Grusha's POV:I was awakened by the bucket of water being thrown at me making me cough terribly as some of it made their way through my nostrils. I could hardly open my eyes because of the strings of blood that connected my eyelids last night had dried enough by now to the point where an involuntary hiss escaped my lips at the stinging pain of re-opening the dried cuts. I could see my shadow on the floor ahead of me as sunlight peered through the small window which was located considerably high for an average man to reach on the wall behind me. It was not much harder to adjust my eyes to the sunlight since that small amount of light could not affect the darkness in the room.I tried lifting up my neck as it began to ache, probably because it had been in the same position, I guess, since the moment I blacked out yesterday, only to be beaten up by the worsening headache. I felt myself sticky and bloody, making me desperate of a hot bath to wash away all dirt from myself until I felt ref

Grusha's POV:“Amalia”The moment he said that name, I looked at him while dropping my hands to my lap while still holding the glass of water and pills in my palms. He again mistook me for my mother. ‘How foolish of me to think that he has finally…..never mind’ I mused as a sad chuckle escaped my lips.“Amalia”He called again but I did nothing and just stared at him. This is not the first time he mistook me for my mother, so it’s not new. And I know this won’t be the last time too. But each time this happened, his eyes, his behavior and everything looked different. His eyes seemed somewhat softer and showed many emotions but I couldn’t quite grasp what those were. However, he appeared somewhat different. That’s all I knew. In the beginning I believed it to be a side effect of the medications, but later I was proven wrong when this persisted even when he used to refuse taking medication.Sighing, I again reached out to him in the hopes that he would take them, either consciously or un

Grusha's POV:“No, no, no don’t. I’m sorry. Please don’t do that. Please…”The girl who was tied to a chair pleaded, not knowing what she had done wrong. She apologized for whatever she had done because she had a fleeting thought that if she begged he would let her go; he wouldn’t do anything to her; he wouldn’t harm his own daughter, his own blood. Right? Or she thought. A dark chuckle echoed throughout the basement snatching the slightest thought she had.“Please don’t do this papa.”She was a crying mess, frantically attempting to free herself from the bound chair. But her words fell on deaf ears as he did nothing but continuously chuckled like a maniac looking at her attempts to escape from his captive.Her struggles came to an abrupt end when she felt a sharp blade at her throat. As the blade moved from her throat to her cheek before stopping at her temples, her breathing became more rapid.He circled the chair until he was in front of her still holding the dragger against her le

Grusha's POV:I feel as if I have been beaten.Wait. What happened?I compelled myself to recall the last memories I have. And the last thing I remember are those ocean eyes.I felt my head spinning and my body aches were getting worse. I opened my eyes only to find the blurry vision of what was surrounding me. I had to blink few times to clear my vision and then I took notice of my surrounding. It almost felt familiar but I am conscious enough to know that it is not.I could see that I was in a cell in someone’s basement, and the crimson handprints on the grubby walls were obvious evidence of my conformation, which didn’t scare me at all. There is a door right in front of me, where I assume would be my only way out.My lips felt dry and the corner of my lips was bruised reasoning why I can’t open them. My hair was covering my face, brushing against my bruised lips every time I took a breath. I tried tugging them away, only to notice my hands were restrained. I tried to wiggle out of

Damien's POV:‘No wonder why they felt so familiar. Well, then that means that those rumors are true.’ I leaned back taking couple of steps backward while continuing to look at her as she appeared to be zoning out while staring at a blank space.‘Then, it is Grusha Aslanov. The princess of the mob. And the heir of the Aslanov mafia. And now the only heir. Additionally, the daughter of Amalia Bernadi; late mafia queen.’ I had had a few brief encounters with her before she passed away when I was a child, but I had heared enough to be aware that she was the only woman who took over the mafia world. Rumors said that she passed away while giving birth, but no one said anything about the baby. While there were few rumors that the baby was alive and fine, some people claimed that the baby also passed away. And here she is. It turned out to be that those rumors are true. I don’t know what kind of relationship nonno [grandfather] has with the Aslanovs, but I do remember how he treated Amalia l