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But Alberto being Alberto, he only believed what he wanted.
If a man wanted me, it was my fault. I tempted him. It was my body. Me. It was all my fault.
And I had to pay for it.
Because I betrayed him. My body betrayed him.
“Alberto, please.”
But he was relentless. He showed me no mercy.
Fisting my hair around his fingers, he pulled my head back sharply. I winced at the pain that shot through my neck. He slapped me hard against the face and I tasted blood where his ring cut my lips.
“Liar,” he spat in my face.
“Please. Believe me,” I begged.
“You are mine! Mine! Your body is mine. Your lips are mine. Your pussy is mine. Your ass is mine. Do you understand! All mine!” Alberto hissed through gritted teeth. His fingers bit into my cheeks as he grasped my chin, making me look him straight in the eye.
I quickly nodded and agreed, hoping that he would stop his torture on my body. “Yes. Yes. I’m yours, Alberto. I belong to you. Only you! My body is yours. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t want him,” I sobbed.
My body was burning. My cheeks were aching. My heart was pounding. And my heart was breaking.
“You need to be taught a lesson. Then you will understand,” he said, letting my chin go. Raising the whip high in his hands, I flinched before it made contact with my body. And when it did, I screamed in agony.
When he was done abusing my body, he dropped the whip and started to unzip his pants. His cock was already hard.
Closing my eyes, I waited for what would come next.
But no matter how much I tried to prepare myself, the pain was always the same. It always felt like I was being cut from the inside. I cried out as he slammed into me, my toes completely leaving the ground.
He painfully rammed inside of me a few times and then he was roaring his release. Pulling out of me, he grabbed my chin again. “Look at me!” he ordered harshly.
My eyes snapped opened and I stared at his furious black eyes. His lips slammed down on mine and I winced. It hurt. Pulling back, he pressed his nails into my cheeks.
“You are mine, Ayla. Never forget that.”
My eyes shot open. Sitting up in bed, I felt sick and my skin was burning. It felt like I had just been whipped. My stomach twisted violently and I struggled out of my bed. I limped to the bathroom and fell down in front of the toilet before retching.
I gagged. Vomited. And cried.
I was shaking uncontrollably and dizziness clouded my vision as I continued to sob. The pain. Oh, God. It was pressing down on my chest and I couldn’t breathe.
Everything was going too perfectly.
This was supposed to be my new beginning.
I had hope. I really thought I had moved on.
But how false it was.
There was no hope, no peace.
It was all a dream. A fantasy. False hope. Jaded hope.
I was living a constant nightmare.
What was the point of living? What the point of continuing on when all I felt was pain, indescribable pain?
Looking up, I noticed the shaving razor Maddie had given me. It was on the counter. Right next to me, as if it had been placed there for me to use at this moment. Moving to my knees, I reached for it. I held it in my shaky hands as my harsh breathing continued to fill the bathroom.
My hands were trembling so hard that the razor almost fell out of them, but I grasped it hard. Moving back, I sat against the tub and pulled my knees up to my chest as I stared at the razor.
I wanted silence.
I didn’t want to hurt anymore.
The tears continued to run freely down my cheeks, the evidence of my past and pain.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I couldn’t think straight.
All I wanted was peace. Alberto’s voice in my head was driving insane.
Placing my wrist out, I held the razor to it. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the tub. I didn’t feel anything when I pressed it hard on my skin and dragged it upward. I opened my eyes and saw a long red line. Blood.
It was seeping from the cut I had made. But I still didn’t feel anything.
Why didn’t I feel the burn?
Why didn’t it hurt?
Growing frustrated, I placed the razor on my other wrist and pressed it down hard, twisting it in my skin. I made a similar cut as the other wrist.
Dropping the razor, I stared at the mess I made. My skin was cut open and there was blood everywhere. It covered my arms. My dress. The floor.
The bathroom swam in front of me and my vision blurred so terribly that I barely saw anything. My head rolled back and my body started to sink down on the floor. I fell sideways, my head hitting the floor hard.
