Cherry

Deci

Breanna POV

My body hurt.

A lot.

Putting up a fight in a dress wasn't as easy as the people on TV make it out to be. I sucked in a harsh breath, my lungs burned and I felt like there was pressure on my chest but I ignored it, it didn't hurt that bad.

My ears popped and loud sound filled them, when I opened my eyes it took them a second to focus before it became clear that I was in a well lit room. I slowly sat up as my heart began to race, thoughts about last night filled my mind and I started to feel sick.

"Oh no." I groaned, I quickly leaned over the bed, my eyes searched for something to vomit in, but I found nothing quick enough, so I winded up throwing up on the floor. Contributing to the mess, I spat on it, trying to get the remains of last night's dinner out of my mouth.

A few seconds later the feeling of nausea passed away and I rolled out of the bed, stepping next to the throw up. I looked around for something to clean it up with, there was a door on the other side of the bed and when I went in I was introduced to a bathroom. So I gladly went in to grab a towel and toss it over the mess I made, and then looked for something to use to clean my mouth. I found several travel sized kits in the bathroom, things for females, toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouth wash, even floss. The cabinets were packed with all types of shit.

I began to realize that I wasn't in some small fancy hotel, but I was on a plane. I started to feel sick again, except a different type of sick. I was taking in my situation and I was getting mad at myself. If I hadn't said anything to Luciano that night, I wouldn't be here. Or maybe, if I decided to wear makeup, or touch up my make up in the bathroom, I would've never caught him with that man, and I could be at home, waking up slightly hung over from last night. And even though I would still be dating Luciano, at least I wouldn't know he's a murderer...yet I guess.

There's no happy ending in this case. Either way I wind up with a psycho murderer.

Fuck! "Fuck! How could you be so stupid!? Again. Fuck! Again!" I hit the counter with my fist and grabbed at my hair, I was so angry I felt like I could cry. I looked a mess. My face was pale, my curls were frizzy, the small amount of make up I did wear was smudged all around my eyes, I had faint bruises up and down my body and I—

I'm not wearing my dress. In fact, I'm only wearing an oversized dress shirt and boxers.

I swear to God if that psycho murderer changed me.

I quickly threw water on my face and wiped it with one of the white hand towels that hung on either side of the sink.

Ha! You kidnap me, I'm going to ruin your shit.

The makeup barely came off, which led me to looking for makeup wipes, finding none, and then destroying my face by using whatever soap they had wrapped up on the counter, which did a better job of getting it all off than just the water did. I fixed my hair, using water and redoing the ponytail it was in, and then left the bathroom. The smell of my throw up was pretty faint in the room, thank God. I went to the only other door in the room, which was too obvious to not be a closet door, and was surprised when I opened it with ease.

"What?" I whispered to myself.

I closed the door quietly and looked around the small hallway I was now in. Nobody was here, but that didn't stop me from hearing someone yelling.

The last time I followed some voices, I got in this damn mess. But since I'm already in it, might as well did a deeper hole.

So, I once again followed the yelling, passing by one other door, which I'd hoped was another bedroom, before coming across a sliding door. When I walked into the room, unsurprisingly I found Luciano, Russo, and three other men. Russo was sitting at a table, drinking something while working on a laptop, two of the men were standing in corners of the room, just watching everything that was going on. And Luciano was yelling in Italian at the third man, who was trying his best to look unfazed.