22

[REBECCA]
I shouldn’t have set my expectations high. Artemy was no ordinary man; he was a mob boss, a ruler in his own right. Ruthlessness, coldness, and a complete lack of empathy defined him. He couldn’t care less about others’ opinions of him.
Men like him behaved exactly as one would expect. I had witnessed it firsthand, and deep down, I should have known better. But for some foolish reasons, I allowed myself to entertain the idea that he might be different.
Clearly, I was mistaken.
As I descended the stairs, Lynda unexpectedly emerged from a closet near the kitchen. Her hair was tousled, her dress askew, and a satisfied grin adorned her face. Spotting me, she winked mischievously before making her way into the kitchen. Milandro followed her out, his eyes locked on her departing figure, clearly consumed by desire.
“Men,” I muttered to myself, keeping my gaze lowered to avoid encountering his lustful eyes.
“Hey, Becca,” he called out.
I acknowledged him with a nod but refrained from turning around. “Good morning,” I replied without facing him.
In the kitchen, Lynda leaned against the counter, holding a glass of orange juice. She took a sip, a smug smile playing on her lips.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I inquired, curious about the amusement dancing in her eyes.
“You look flushed, out of breath,” Lynda remarked, placing her glass on the counter.
Crossing my arms and shaking my head, I retorted, “I’m fine. What are you talking about?”
She laughed, intertwining her arm with mine, guiding me out of the kitchen. “You’re not going to tell me, huh?”
“I don’t understand, Lynda,” I replied, perplexed by her insinuations.
“Stop playing coy! Did he kiss you? Or did he do more than that?” she inquired, her words leaving me wide-eyed in shock. Gasping, I quickly pulled my arm away. “Why would you even think that?”
Instead of answering, Lynda burst into laughter, finding amusement in my bewildered expression. She reached up and pinched my cheek affectionately. “You’re so adorable.”
I glared at her, although unsure if my intended message was effectively conveyed. I had detached myself emotionally, and as that realization sank in, I could feel myself shutting down.
I found solace in this place, a fleeting happiness that stirred within me. Yet, beneath the surface of my contentment, fear lingered, a constant reminder of the cruel reality I had endured before. I had learned, through painful experiences, that happiness could be snatched away in an instant.
With trepidation, I awaited the moment when the happiness I had discovered here would be forcefully taken away. It felt like a looming inevitability, lurking in the shadows of my mind. The thought of returning to my cold, desolate room, bound by chains to my bed, waiting for Raffaele, sent shivers down my spine.
Suddenly, someone grasped my arm, jolting me from my thoughts. It was Lynda, her voice cutting through the silence. “Where did you go?” she inquired, concern evident in her eyes.
I forced a tight smile and linked arms with her once more. “Nowhere,” I replied, masking my inner turmoil. Lynda guided me towards the maids’ quarters, and with a gentle push, we entered the cozy living room. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of roses. Only a select few of the maids were fortunate enough to reside in the grand mansion. It stood as a stark contrast to the humble quarters in my father’s estate. Lynda, however, did not dwell in these maids’ quarters. She had her own room upstairs, much like Nona. Yet, she found joy in the large flat-screen TV nestled within this communal space.
Lynda tugged me towards the couch, folding her legs beneath her as she leaned against it, facing me. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she demanded, “So? C’mon. I need all the exciting details.”
I shook my head, my lips forming a forced smile. “Lynda, nothing happened. Seriously.”
“Liar,” she retorted playfully.
“Lynda-”
“Tell me!” she persisted, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Fine! Some woman was… um… she was giving him a…” I stumbled over my words, feeling my face flush with embarrassment.
Her eyes widened in shock. “What? What was she doing?”
“She was giving him… you know,” I muttered, desperately wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
“Giving him what?” Lynda’s mouth twisted with amusement.
“You know…”
“Huh?” she feigned confusion, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Exasperated, I threw my hands up in frustration, gritting my teeth. “A… a blowjob!”
Lynda couldn’t contain herself any longer. She threw her head back and erupted into laughter, clutching her stomach. Her hysterical mirth filled the room, but I sank deeper into the couch, closing my eyes. I failed to see the humor in the situation.
“Oh my God, babe. You are so cute,” she managed to say between fits of laughter.
“And you are so mean,” I replied, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips.
“But you still love me.” Her laughter subsided, revealing a beautiful, sweet smile that adorned her face.
I shrugged, acknowledging the truth in her words. She was right-I still loved her. She was my only friend, my confidante.
“So, that woman… what happened?” Lynda leaned closer, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“Nothing happened. I walked in and saw them. When he was done, he ordered her to leave. I left the protein on the coffee table and walked away, not giving him a chance to say anything.”
“You walked away? Why is it so hard for me to believe that?” she teased.
“Okay, fine. I ran away,” I mumbled.
“So he just finished right in front of you, without any decency to stop and apologize?” Lynda questioned, a mixture of shock and disbelief on her face.
I shook my head silently, unable to believe that she actually expected him to change his ways. He was undoubtedly the most infuriating and unpredictable man I had ever encountered. There was no chance he would abandon his illicit activities and start behaving decently. Decency and privacy were luxuries he couldn’t afford.
“Damn, he really knows how to push your buttons,” Lynda remarked, breaking the silence. “Who was that woman? I mean, what did she look like?”
“I don’t remember much. I was so embarrassed and shocked that I didn’t pay attention to her. But she had blonde hair and was tall, with a lean figure. She was stunning,” I replied.
“Ah, that’s Bernadette. She’s always seeking more, regardless of how Artemy treats her like trash after he’s done. I wouldn’t entirely blame him, though. He lays down his rules and makes it clear to the women before they get involved – no attachments, just physical encounters, and then they leave. But they still want more,” Lynda explained, rolling her eyes.
Why would they subject themselves to such mistreatment willingly?
I, on the other hand, never had a choice.
I was bound and broken into submission. No matter how much I pleaded, the choice was never mine to make, so I had to accept my bleak reality. Yet, other women could have better lives and find love in healthy relationships.
Lynda’s attention was captivated by the television.
“Lynda,” I called her name.
“What is it?” she responded, turning to face me.
“Why do women accept such behavior… when they do have a choice?” I inquired.
She placed the remote control on her lap and shifted her focus to me. “I don’t know, Becca. Maybe they desire the same thing? Perhaps they don’t want a committed relationship. Maybe that kind of arrangement works for them. It’s their choice. But you know, even if you’re the casual partner of a heartless mob boss, you still enjoy his protection. That means financial security, a somewhat lavish lifestyle, and nobody dares to mess with you.”
“Hmm,” I murmured, attempting to understand, but the pieces still didn’t quite fit together.
“Forget about that,” Lynda dismissed the topic, giving my knee a light slap to regain my attention.
“What?” I asked, perplexed.
“Well, how did you feel when you saw him with that woman? Were you jealous?” she inquired mischievously, winking at me.
Her question caught me off guard. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”
I had no frame of reference for jealousy because I never had the opportunity to experience it. When emotions become nonexistent in your life, you eventually forget what it means to feel something.
“Come on, Becca. I can sense something between you and Artemy. The way he looks at you…” Lynda teased, fanning her face with her hands. “So intense! He practically undresses you with his eyes!”
“Lynda!” I exclaimed, covering her mouth with my hand. She lacked any sense of self-control. Feeling something wet on my palm, I quickly withdrew my hand, realizing that she had licked it. “Eww.”
“You’re the one who put your hand over my mouth while I was talking. How rude!” she retorted, crossing her arms and sporting a grin. “So, do you have feelings for him? Were you even a tiny bit jealous?”
“I don’t know, Lynda. What does jealousy feel like?” I asked, the words leaving me with a tinge of shame. I sounded utterly pathetic.
You’re pathetic, bitch. A pitiful whore. That’s all you are. Useless. Raffaele’s voice echoed in my head. I despised his voice. It never left me, no matter how hard I tried to block it out. It always found a way back.
I felt a comforting hand on my knee and knew it was Lynda. She never pressed me for answers when I asked foolish questions.
She believed I had been living on the streets for quite some time, so she felt pity for me. I was grateful that she didn’t pry, as I had no answers to give.