I was scared and in pain, and all I could do was pray for my husband to come and find me. The cool ground floor had numbed me over the time I’d spent, and there were no windows, so I couldn’t even tell if it was day or night.
It felt like I’d been in that room for days, and the thought that Enzo would leave me in this room to die shook me to my core. Gathering up whatever strength I could, I began crawling over to the bed.
I didn’t know what I’d accomplish, but it was better than lying around on the ground like easy prey. It hurt to move, and I wasn’t strong, but I finally made it to the bed when the door swung open. I held my breath in anticipation, then let out a choked sob when I saw my nonna.
Nonna. I cried.
She was crying as she reached me. She ran shaky hands over my face, over cuts and bruises, and whispered sweet things in Italian as she held me to her chest. Her hand went down to my stomach as if she wanted to know if I was still pregnant.
I don’t know. I-I don’t know. My chin trembled at my words, and my heart felt like it was being torn right in half. I don’t know. I sobbed each word out, and she hugged me tighter. Where’s Enzo ? I was scared he’d find her here and hurt her.
Ssshh, don’t worry about Enzo. I spoke with your husband. Tuo marito sta arrivando, presto. She reassured me as she wiped away my tears. Soon. She pulled out a small pocket knife and placed it in my hand. Stai al sicuro finche non arriva. She warned lightly, and I nodded my head vehemently.
(Translation : Your husband is coming soon. Stay safe until he comes.)
With a kiss on my forehead, she left me too soon, and I held the knife to my chest tightly and hoped I never had to use it. I didn’t know how soon Oisin would be here, and with every minute that passed, I grew more apprehensive. The room he trapped me in felt far from the main house.
I couldn’t hear anything, and I was scared that he wouldn’t know where I was when he came to save me. The knife in my hand felt like an omen, like something terrible was going to happen to me, and with how Enzo reacted, I knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to hurt me.
I must have dozed off, or maybe my body gave out from exhaustion or dehydration. Because when I woke up, I was no longer leaning against the bed but flat on the ground with some man on top of me ripping at my clothes.
This can’t be happening.
My body went into fight mode as I started screaming and trying to shove him off. He was strong, his arms pinning me down, and all I could do was scratch his face and arms. I tried to knead him between his legs, but he had my legs restrained to the side, and I couldn’t even move, couldn’t even fight.
This was happening.
No, no, please.
Please, stop. No, stop ! I shouted when he pulled down his pants. Don’t touch me !
He slapped my face knocking the breath out of me. I turned to see the knife clattered by the bed. I tried to reach for it and cried hysterically when I couldn’t even grab it. My panties were ripped off, and he forced himself inside me. My body tensed up at the rough intrusion, and I’d never felt so disgusting in my entire life than right now.
I wanted to die.
I wished I was dead.
Are you only a whore for Irish fuckers ? He spat as he thrust inside me deeper.
Please, someone, save me. Please. Anyone. God, do you hear me ?
The door opened, but he didn’t attempt to move. Wait your fucking turn, man. He shouted, and then he was yanked off me.
I looked to see Liam and Oisin standing there. Liam was holding him down by the collar of his shirt, ready to kill him with the gun to his temple. I was shaking as I reached for the knife, and before they could shoot him, I stabbed him in the chest. Over and over again. I didn’t stop.
I never wanted to stop.
I wanted this man to bleed, to die, to fucking feel every move of the knife that pushed, broke, and sliced through his body. I could feel his blood painting my face and the knife cutting through his flesh and bones. He was dead, but I wanted him to suffer even more than that.
I reached down and was distraught as I cut off his dick before shoving it in his mouth. I spat at his body for good measure, and then the knife fell to the ground with a loud clatter.
I didn’t turn around, but my body shook with uncontrollable, hysterical sobs. I felt familiar, strong arms wrap me up in a jacket, and then I was picked up off the ground and carried in his arms.
Oisin
They took my wife from me for four days, and those four days felt like four hundred fucking years. I was in a perpetual hell for four days. I’d never known such darkness and cruelty until she was snatched up from me.
I didn’t know what was happening to her if she was safe if she was hurt, and I hated myself for letting her leave the house angry that day. I put her in that position. It was my fault she even got taken in the first place.
I never knew such pain and agony existed until she was taken out from under my nose. The pain resembled someone reaching inside my chest and ripping my heart right out with their bare hands. It was a constant ache of pain, suffering, and too many what-ifs.
What if we never fought ? What if I never let her leave ? What if I never got to tell her I love her ?
What worsened the situation was that we fought right before she left. I didn’t know what would happen to her because Enzo was twisted in the fucking head, and I didn’t want that to be the last conversation we shared. I was a mess, a chaotic menacing mess that only wanted blood, revenge, and Enzo’s fucking head on a stick.
So I gathered my men, called my reinforcements, and decided war wouldn’t-couldn’t wait. They’d die and burn and regret the day they took her from me. If her grandma hadn’t called me and told me about their security protocol and turned off the security cameras, I don’t know if we would have been successful.
Speaking of her grandma, she never left her side, either, staying close to Elena and holding her hand since the second we got her back. She didn’t leave her for a second, and I admired her strength, loyalty, and love for my wife.
I didn’t know what happened to her in the days she went missing, but if it was any indication of how I found her, I didn’t want to know. I still remember how she killed the man trying to rape her, and despite being proud of her, I knew it was her trauma response kicking in. The doctor that tended to my wife and her wounds was speechless when he saw her.
He’s been the family doctor for years. He’s dealt with bullet wounds, decapitations, and other gruesome tasks. Yet when he saw her, I could see the pain in his eyes as he tended to her. It didn’t help that Elena was jittery the entire time he was there, and when I tried to reach out for her, she jumped out of the way.
It hurt. Swear to God ; it broke my heart. I knew she was still in shock, so I tried not to take it to heart, but it pained me, knowing I couldn’t comfort her. It’s been a week since Elena’s been back home.
She hasn’t spoken a single word to me. She hadn’t gotten out of bed, and it wasn’t even because of her injuries ; she simply refused. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, and wouldn’t speak to me. I wasn’t even sleeping in the same room as her, instead sleeping in her room because she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to get into our bed with her.
I just wanted to hold her, but she was shaking and sobbing so hard that I gave up and left the room without a word. If it wasn’t for her grandma being right by her side, I think I would have lost my fucking mind.
As if it wasn’t already fucking lost.
I didn’t ask her grandma or the doctor questions because I wanted Elena to be the one to sit and talk with me. I wanted to hear everything that’s happened to her from her and her only. I wanted to be there for her, to comfort and hold her in my arms, but maybe all she needed now was space. I could give her that. Even though it was killing me, I could give it to her.
I wasn’t going to force anything out of her, but not knowing allowed me to conjure up a billion different scenarios. Each scenario was worse and far more horrendous than the last. The Morelli house was on lockdown.
Liam was there with some of our men, waiting and taking care of shit I couldn’t be bothered to take care of. Enzo was in the same room he kept my wife in, along with the other surviving men. I didn’t want to do anything without speaking to Elena about it.
I offered her mother to come with me, but she refused, choosing Enzo’s side. It was fine. She could die with Enzo for all I fucking care. All I really cared about was my wife’s safety, and now that she was in my house again, safe and under my protection, I didn’t even know what to do.
She was safe, yes, but at what cost ? I felt torn up inside with the urge to know every little thing that happened to her to not wanting to know anything. Then, I walked in on her getting raped, and I didn’t know if that was the first time or one of many.