To tame the wild horse

To tame the wild horse

By:  Zaara Damein  Ongoing
Language: English
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Being the daughter of a mafia, Grusha Aslanov didn't lead the typical luxury, spoiled life. Not when she was accused of her mother's death which made her hate herself more than her family did. She lived with the worst emotion one could ever have. Regret. She regretted her birth. She was not satisfied with the mental damage her mother's death caused as she thought she deserved a worse punishment. That is why she didn't even protest when her brother and father abused her every day and night until her body went numb because she thought she deserved it. She had no feelings, no emotions, nothing. She was a numb body with scars on her that each contained a tragic tale. She was a living death until the devil takes interest in unfolding her every story. Mature content warning!!! Triger warnings: physical abuse, mention of blood, mention of self harming, torture!!!

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Breanna Nickerson
when are the updates?
2022-10-30 11:04:24
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58 Kabanata

Morning Routine

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
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Emotions?

Author's POV:Turning the stove off Grusha took the pot before ladling the soup into a bowl. She took off her gloves and placed the steaming soup on the tray before filling a glass with water and placing it on the tray. She lifted the tray with her bruised, shaky hands, only to scream in pain while keeping the tray on the table again unintentionally.No matter what morning routine she follows, she is required to carry out her duty properly.That was his command.Even though she was aware that she would get beaten up at the end of the day on a regular basis, she knew better than to defy him and risk having a near-death experience in which she would beg him to kill her yet he would let her live.After gently rubbing her wrist for a while, she took a deep breath and swallowed her tears. No matter what, she has to do this.Whimpering in pain she lifted the tray and limped towards the stairs to go upstairs which was a great torture for her aching body.She tried to make it as fast as possi
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Deserted house

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
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Pathetic

Grusha's POV:I waited for something to happen, like his fists or any object he could find nearby, as I heard his footsteps get closer, but nothing did. Instead, I suddenly felt a current of wind pass me. I slowly opened my eyes when I heard loud footsteps going up the stairs, only to see my brother’s disappearing figure. He despised me just as much as father did, so it was strange to see him pass by me without at least leaving his finger prints on my cheeks. He was exactly like father in that regard. I let it slide because it is not like I wanted him to do anything.I retreated my gaze from him, only for my eyes to fall on the smirking guy who has been leaning against the door frame, I assume, ever since brother arrived, who I didn’t notice until now.Victor…Despite the fact that he is my cousin, Victor could also receive the title of “best friend” from my brother, which is not at all surprising given that I knew that Victor is not the gentleman that he appears to be. In fact he is
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Nightmare

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
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Grusha: The wild horse

Grusha's POV: “Grusha…” When I heard that voice, I felt as though time had stopped. If it weren’t for the burning sensation in my scalp, I might have thought this was some kind of dream. I slowly turned my head after being shocked by what I had just heard, to see the worst sight I have ever seen in my life. Tears that were welled up escaped my eyes, slightly clearing my vision. Brother? If it weren’t for his voice and the necklace that dangle around his neck, I wouldn’t believe this is my brother because of how much worse his condition was. His hair was a mess and it covered both of his eyes and forehead. His head was hung low, but I could see his face totally covered with blood. He was on his knees, his hands tied behind him, occasionally coughing blood. His shirt was also covered with blood and the top buttons were opened which didn’t prevent me from seeing his blood covered chest. I have never imagined him in such a situation like this, but here he is. I was not excited or surp
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As destiny wishes

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
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Rumors

Author's POV"Just kill me"Grusha uttered while looking him in the eyes. And those eyes stared back at her grey orbs emotionlessly. She expected him to do something, but all he did was stare at her. But what Grusha didn’t see was the confusion in his eyes. Having people in his cells begging him to kill them is not something new to Damien, but the fact that the existence of the girl in front of him being a mystery is something that triggers his restless mind. He kept staring at her, trying to find something or anything that could be useful but the fear-coated grey orbs revealed nothing but exhaustion; exhaustion of everything.For a brief moment, he thought she could be a spy or something, but after observing her face, he realized she is not someone like that unless she is really good at acting, so he did not completely dismiss his assumption. Even if she if a spy, then why would Bernadi go to such lengths to obtain her? Her mystery was messing with his mind, but he knew for sure that
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History repeats itself

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
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Hurt and Hate

Grusha's POV:I hissed as foamy water kissed every scar on my body, even the recently injured ankle. After that guy left, I stood up and tried to walk to the bathroom, but ended up hobbling all the way like he said and successfully spraining the same injured ankle. The pain was unbearable and I would have taken a bath in the bathtub but I chose to be hard on myself and chose to take a shower standing. I had to bite my tongue to keep me from screaming in pain. I shifted all my weight to my left leg and put both hands on the wall to ease the pain in ankle. I turned my head to the side and bit down on my arm, groaning as the pain shot through my veins from my ankle to my hips like electricity.After turning off the shower, I limped out of the shower while frantically scrabbling my hands everywhere, desperately trying to find something to hold onto, in order to support me but miserably finding nothing. With my stumbling steps, the scratch over my ankle has reopened and the blood started t
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