The soldier began to scream. He couldn’t move his hand because Raphael kept the pressure on it.
“Now, now, now, I don’t like the sound of your tone. It’s not very nice.”
Pulling out of the memory, Raphael remembered he had killed that soldier. When his father had questioned him, he told him plain and simple the man was interested in stealing one of his father’s slaves.
The matter had been dealt with, and his little obsession had been born.
This girl, no, woman, she captivated him, and he had no idea why.
****
Pain was the first thing Useless remembered.
She opened her eyes and groaned, closing them again. Why hadn’t her alarm gone off? Why had her body been on fire?
The shooting?
Jerking her eyes open, she came to the realization this wasn’t her bedroom back at Giavanni’s house. This wasn’t even the room he made her wait in for him. The bed was comfortable.
Comfort didn’t come to people like her.
As she sat up, the blanket slid down and she quickly picked it up to cover her breasts. Pain exploded in her shoulder and she winced, seeing the bandage that covered her. She’d been shot.
Lifting the blanket up, she saw the mark on her thigh as well. She thought she knew what pain was, but after being shot, she realized she didn’t even have a fucking clue.
Where was she?
Raphael?
Glancing around, she didn’t recognize the room. She’d been inside every single room at Giavanni’s house. This wasn’t one of them.
Where had she been taken?
The threat of being sold always hung over her head.
Had it finally happened?
The bedroom door opened and Raphael stayed on the threshold.
“You’re awake,” he said.
She nodded.
“I’m making you some breakfast. Or attempting to. I can’t guarantee it’s anything decent, but I try. If you want to get dressed, I can wait for you.”
“Dressed?”
“Yes, in clothes.”
“Where’s my uniform?”
He stepped into the room, rummaged in the drawers, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, along with a shirt. “You’re not wearing your uniform. This is what you’ll wear.”
He left seconds later.
After climbing out of the bed, she covered her nakedness as quickly as she could, not wanting anyone to see her. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she glanced around the room.
It was a nice room. Pretty.
She moved toward one of the doors. There was a closet, and at the second, she found the bathroom. Rushing inside, she used the facilities and flushed the toilet. Then she moved to the sink, began to wash her hand, and splashed water on her face. She was careful with her arm, not moving it too much.
The last thing she wanted was to be in any kind of pain. She hated pain so much. Yet her life was all about having it inflicted. She’d been born into this world.
Lifting her head up, she stared at her reflection.
There were no scars on her face or neck. Giavanni didn’t like to look at ugly women. His words.
Pushing those to the back of her mind, she found a toothbrush and brushed her teeth. Next, a hairbrush. She quickly ran it through her long locks, whimpering as it tugged on some of the knots. After five minutes, she gave up. The pain in her shoulder was too intense to keep on fighting like this.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at her reflection.
There was nothing good about her. She’d been told that many times.
Leaving the bathroom, she found Raphael in the kitchen, serving up two plates of food.
Her mouth watered. It had been a long time since she’d had food. Two days. Giavanni had raised his hand to her a couple of days ago and because she’d flinched, her punishment had been to go without food.
Flinching was natural, wasn’t it?
It didn’t matter. She’d been punished.
“Take a seat,” Raphael said.
He was the son of Giavanni, of her master. She’d been told in all aspects of life she must obey, serve. It was what she’d been born to do.
Sitting at the table, it felt odd as Raphael brought her over her food. She didn’t know this man very well. He’d saved her a couple of times. He was sweet, most of the time. At least, not when he liked to kill people.
He placed a breakfast in front of her. Eggs, toast, tomatoes, mushrooms. She offered him a smile and picked up her fork. Her hand shook.
They shouldn’t be eating at the same table.
This wasn’t right.
This was wrong but she didn’t say anything.
Eating some food, she closed her eyes as it landed on her tongue and she chewed. Food shouldn’t taste this good, but it did. She knew it was only because she hadn’t been fed for a long time, but still, it was good food.
She finished before him, and he handed her a slice of bread to soak up the juice. Her face was on fire with embarrassment. She never ate in front of anyone. If Giavanni knew she’d eaten, he’d be pissed. Only he was allowed to give the order for her to have food.