Page 92 of Savage Don

Being a pawn was what I was born for. It was always my fate. When you’re the daughter of a don, being used by others is your destiny. There is no escaping destiny. I see that clearly now.

Still, I can ignore it for a little bit longer—even if that’s all I can do.

Eventually, Father stops trying to knock down my door. He’s too cheap to break the hinges and force his way in. Sure, if he were truly worried about me, he might do it anyway, just to make sure I was alright. But that’s not him.

He’s not worried about his daughter. He’s worried about his reputation. I’ve heard him and Sonia talking outside in the hallway. It’s like they’re discussing a chess game.

How do we get the spoiled princess to let her guard down? Treats? Threats?

They haven’t been able to find my weakness. Not yet. And I can only thank the heavens that they don’t know enough about me to understand what I truly fear.

Not that I can blame them. Hell, I hardly know what I fear most.

Is it Ray? Is it Father? Is it my destiny?

Everything swirls around inside of me, tugging on my heartstrings like a dark hurricane until I’m tangled into a thousand knots.

I don’t know what will happen next. But the longer I ignore it all, the less I can ignore what’s happening inside of me.

And that includes the hunger.

With the knocks at my door long gone, there’s nothing to cover up the rumbling of my stomach.

I have plenty of food here—my nightstand, my desk, my dresser drawer are all covered by mostly untouched plates.

They’ve been leaving food outside of my bedroom door. When I’m sure everyone has gone to sleep, I quietly retrieve the offerings. But I just can’t bring myself to eat.

Everything is just too fucked up.

Yesterday, before I could lock my bedroom door, Father barged in. He asked me so many questions that my head started to spin.

Fuck. I even started to cry. There’s nothing more embarrassing than crying in front of Domenico Galli.

No. Wait. Scratch that. There is one thing more embarrassing than crying in front of Father. And it’s crying in front of Sonia.

Luckily, I managed to lock myself away before they could sic her on me.

Now, my biggest fear is her forcing her way inside of my little cage. For as suffocating as this old room is, it’s still my sanctuary. She’s not allowed in here. Even if Father insists it was her who went shopping to replace all of the clothes that Ray had taken from me.

Hell, the witch even got me some very expensive new toiletries. But she didn’t get me the most important item of them all.

Birth control pills.

Without having my laptop or phone to search on, I’m having a hard time remembering what the routine is for missed days—and what the consequences are.

It’s been three days since I took my last pill. If it wasn’t for the miracle Plan B box that I found stuffed in that cupboard, I’d be truly fucked.

Now, though, I’m just mostly fucked. Because for as awful as this has all turned out, I’m at least back in my room.

I know how to escape this room. Even with the extra security. No one knows about the trap door hidden beneath my bed. Not even Father.

It was the first thing I checked when I got some privacy. I found it untouched, as dusty as ever—still hidden beneath boxes of bad memories.

Not even Ray bothered to search beneath my bed.

Ray.

Fuck. The monster.