I Am Not A Prostitute: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)

Chapter 40

Hey do any of you guys vape?

Also, if you get upset easily don't read this chapter. LOVE YOU.

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"We must get you looking good, mi bella, I assure you imprisonment has not done you justice, you look absolutely horrendous."

I said nothing, I couldn't come up with a witty remark like I used to do, it seems my humor was long gone.

"W-What do you mean a movie?" I asked, but for some reason, I think I already knew the answer.

"It's going to be a surprise, a little treat to show Mr. Velkov of his little girlfriend" he grinned as he pulled me in front of him, leading me down a hall and into a room.

The room was almost Royal looking, with a big king sized bed, lush carpets, and a full sized bathroom. I was so fucking confused.

"I-I don't understand." I said softly.

He grinned as his hands gripped my bony shoulders, his beady snake eyes taking me in.

"Well, child, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to get it on video, and I'll send it to your little boyfriend, see how much he likes that."

Dread pooled inside of me, I held my hands in front of me, my body aching and screaming in protest as I took a step back.

"N-No please don't, p-please I beg of you."

He let our a humorless laugh as he grabbed me, my bones turned to mush as I fell into him. He gripped my chin, his knuckles cracking as he seized my jaw.

"My dear, you do not have a choice in the matter."

He pushed me away from him, and I fell on the ground, the only thing covering my body was his thin jacket.

He grinned at me once more, "my child, you must look good on the camera, I will send in some people to fix you up all nice and pretty, and then" he sighed "we will record."

He left, and I fucking sobbed, my tears drenching the carpet.

I'm waiting for Sinister to come for me, but it's been weeks, and I feel like I'm waiting for something that's never going to happen. I am slowly giving up.

Waiting for him is like waiting for the sun to rise at night, I'm waiting for the beautifully imperfect man, covered with tattoos, with that gorgeously crooked smile that would heal all of my wounds. But he will never come for me.

I am broken because I believed, I believed that I could have a life with him. I think I love him, and its killing me.

The door flew open, two women walked in, one was blonde, her hair pulled tightly into a bun, she looked to be in her fourties, he face was stone and unreadable.

The second woman looked much younger, her reddish brown hair was cut short, her face was round and rosy.

"Up. Get up." The blonde ordered, her foot tapping impatiently.

My legs wobbled as I struggled to stand, just as I put my weight on both my legs they collapsed.

The younger girl said something in Italian before kneeling down beside me and helping me to my feet, she practically carried me as we made our way into the bathroom.

"You are bruised everywhere child, we will cover what we can with makeup, but we will need to lather you in swelling creame after your shower.

My entire body felt like it was on fire as I collapsed into the shower, the woman turned on the taps, and I felt the cool water attempting to extinguish the fire that erupted all over my body, only, this fire was deep inside my skin.

No amount of water would extinguish the fire that burned deep inside my soul.

The younger woman was by my side, rubbing soaps and shampoos into my hair, I didn't even care that I was completely naked in front of her, it's not like I would've been strong enough to shower on my own.

Memories of when I had a drug induced shower incident with Afanas flashed through my mind, I even missed that little bastard. I missed them all. I missed mom, I missed Afanas, I missed sinister...hell I even missed Alexis, that STD infected little bitch that fucked Sinister right in front of me.

The older woman turned off the shower, helping me up she wrapped me in a fluffy towel and sat me at a seat by the mirror.

She began lathering cream all over me, it's stung for a little while, and the stinging turned into warmth.

I finally glanced at my face in the mirror, it was bruised, bloodied, and swollen. I cringed as I touched my cheeks, and winced, they were completely swollen. The cuts had been washed clean of blood, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what I looked like before my shower.

I looked much thinner, bones were sticking out from my shoulders and my face looked narrower and more defined.

The women began doing my makeup and hair, painting my face with concealer, covering up every single man-induced imperfection until it felt like I had a new face.

They painted, pulled, combed and straightened for hours until they were finally done.

I opened my eyes to see a very new face. A fake face.

All traces of cuts and bruises were gone, instead what remained was a smoothly painted porcelain face with perfectly contoured cheeks, bright red lips, lined eyelids and long lashes.

I grimaced as I looked at my reflection.

The women staring back at me, was not myself. Instead a replica, all traces of humanity, gone.

My hair was straightened, cleaned free of blood, and brushed free of tangles. It hung down by my waist.

"Get changed." The older woman muttered, handing me a spaghetti strapped white dress, almost....almost like a fucking wedding dress. A veil hung by the dress, and I felt bile rise up my throat.

"N-No" I winced "I'm not fucking wearing that. I won't."

The younger woman's eyes went wise, "miss you have to, he'll kill us if you don't wear it, he might even kill you."

My lips quivered, "he already has."

I grabbed the dress from the hanger, slipping into the dreadful gown as the older woman slipped the veil over my head.

I stared at my reflection, distaste flowed through my mouth like the bitter taste of a lemon, the older woman urged me to move forward as we left the bathroom, and into the bedroom.

There, sat him, fucking Antonio, he grinned ear-to-ear as he saw me, he was clearly pleased.

"Beautiful."

Only then did I realize, that I had never stopped crying.

Not edited !

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