Chapter 3: Questions

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Adrienne's POV

Hours later

I quickly push myself away from the cell, desperate to get as far as possible from that monstrous man who resembles the person who was once my papa.

The pain of knowing my father is here, yet not truly him, is unbearable.

He's not my papa.

His face contorted into a sinister and frightening grin, sending shivers down my spine and making my heart race even faster as I stared at him with horror in my burning, watering eyes.

While I continue to distance myself from him, he slowly advances toward the cell, gripping his gun tightly as if debating whether to kill me.

I am curious about why he has not killed me and has me locked here.

Torturing me in ways I never knew was possible until I don't know who I am anymore.

Not after all this time.

"Why-why are you here..." My shivering, frail voice asks as my back hits the wall, making me gasps in fright I suddenly felt. Knowing I have nowhere else to go.  

I am trapped.

Again.

My stomach knots and my chest grows tight looking at him. "To see my brave angel, of course..." his raspy voice states as he chuckles, locking his wild eyes on me.

My body shivers from the cold and fear, so I take a deep breath to regain control but regret it as I am bombarded with an intense obnoxious smell of pee, poop, puke, and dead rats.

I immediately gag, swallowing down my puke because I don't want to give any idea that I am pregnant.

"If-if you mean torturing me with old memories we shared before telling me you wished it was Dom..." I trail off, not wanting to say his name.

It pains me. I miss him so much.

And I miss Leah... I have been seeing her too. She feels so real. Just like Domi seems so real... it's like they are here. But they are angry.

They are my only company, but also my worst nightmares.

"Yes, and not to mention you killing him," his voice becomes stern and vile when he speaks to me with hatred.

My eyes uncontrollably slide shut at his words, paining my heart.

I killed Dominic, but I never held the gun.

My eyes snap open at the abrupt noise he makes, and I observe him swallowing some pills, piquing my curiosity.

As far as I know, my father has never taken medication. He's always been healthy and maintained a good diet. At least that was what I had known before he left me when I was a child.

2 months earlier

My trembling, dry lips somehow part, allowing me to address the man who claims to be my papa but is a twisted, insane version of him.

My body feels drained and weak as if I could collapse at any moment. "What... what happened to you?" My voice, hoarse and parched, inquires as I rest my pounding head against the brick wall behind me, my eyes fixed on the man standing before me, separated only by the cage bars.

My throat is parched, my skin deserted, and possibly pale from the lack of food, iron, and water.

I am famished.

I have not eaten in days. The last thing I ate was a sandwich and water, and it did not do anything to me because I had been ravenous and eating for two now.

Alessandro 16+ / Book 2Where stories live. Discover now