Suddenly, a bright light turned on and I held my hand over my eyes to shield them.
“Hello, Lyla.” A female voice rang out.
I looked up to a door. A middle aged woman stood at the entrance with a tray of food resting in her hands.
“Mother?” I gasped out.
“Hungry?” She questioned. Walking into the room, she let to door shut heavily behind her. As she got closer, I backed further into the bed, against the wall.
“Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you.”
“Your men did a good job of not harming me,” I said sarcastically.
“Well, he has been handled.”
“Handled?”
“I had him killed,” she smiled sweetly.
“What do you want Mother?”
“Your father.”
“You left him!”
“I tried to come back. I tried to fix it.”
“Convenient timing to come back, don't you think? Right after he becomes a wealthy man?”
“It had nothing to do with his money.”
“Not only did you leave him, you left me!”
She shook her head and pushed the tray toward me. I slapped it out of her hands.
“I don't want anything from you,” I growled.
A glare covered her face. “You better learn some manners, young lady. I'm trying to help you.”
“I hate you,” I spit out. “I don't need your help and I damn sure don't want you in my life.”
She stood quickly and stomped to the door.
“Fine. Starve. I don't give a damn.”
She slammed the door behind her. The room returned to pitch black not soon after.
I laid back on the bed and rubbed my temples.
Jaxon better get me out of here soon.
Oh my God. Jaxon. He's dead.
More tears began streaming down my face.
“I love you. I'm sorry,” I whispered to the ceiling, hoping he could hear me. “I should've just given myself up. Then you'd still be alive.”
I rolled over on the hard mattress and cried until sleep took over me again.
Sometime in the night, I heard the door open again. No lights came on this time.
Light footsteps got closer and closer to my bed.
I felt a hand run up my leg and I gasped. I jumped up on the bed, looking around. I couldn't see anything or anyone.
“Relax.” Mark's voice filled the space. “I just wanted to play.”
“Mark, get away from me.”
“Come on, you know you want it.”
He pulled my ankles down the bed and the rest of my body followed. My bottom half met his. I felt his erection against the sweatpants.
“Mark, please. No.”
He ripped the pants off my body along with my underwear quickly.
I screamed as loud as I could. No one came.
I felt his member enter me forcefully. Pain wracked my body. He began thrusting hard and fast.
I screamed again but a palm landed on my mouth. His thumb and index finger pinched my nose, blocking my air supply. His other hand wrapped around my throat tightly.
“You like that baby girl?” He whispered.
I tried to breathe, to scream.
I felt my head get fuzzy.
I slapped at his hands.
“Do you promise to be quiet?” I nodded my head.
He left go and I gasped for air. He continued to assault me. His hands groped my body.
He continued to rape me as I laid there sobbing.
He began getting frantic and I knew what was soon to happen.
“Please, don't.” I whispered.
He slapped me, hard.
“Didn't I tell you to be quiet?” He pulled out.
Without warning, he yanked me up and slammed his penis into my mouth, forcing it down my throat.
I gagged and choked. I heard his moans and laughter from above me.
“I've been waiting for this for months.”
Tears continued streaming down my face. I felt myself get lightheaded again but this time I welcomed it. At least if I passed out, I wouldn't feel it anymore.
Mark, however, had other plans.
He pulled out of my throat and yanked me back onto the bed. Slamming into my vagina again, he moaned.
The pain was even worse this time.
He grabbed my breast in a painful grip before ripping my shirt. I felt his mouth attach to my nipple and bite hard.
I whimpered in pain. He began thrusting frantically again and I knew this time he wouldn't stop.
In his moments of weakness, I slammed my knee up into his balls. He let out a roar and fell to the ground.
I jumped up quickly and ran toward the door, praying he forgot to lock it.
I turned the handle and it opened. I ran out into the dimly lit hallway screaming for help.
A young man, probably about 22, walked into the hallway. Blood trickled down my naked legs.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. He rushed to me and picked me up bridal style. He began running the other direction before bursting through another door. Inside, I couldn't believe my eyes.
Sitting on the bed was a woman.
She looked exactly like me.
>>>>>
The Bodyguard of the Mafia boss's daughter (part 25/32)