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Prologue - 1

some days before

that I fell for the lie

You were never by my side

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

No time to die – Billie Eilish

beatrice

I haven't seen him for three days, it's a welcome breath of some distorted calm in the midst of the storm, trapped in the basement like an animal the small room with a closet and a table, some cloths that were thrown for him to sleep on. If one could thank them for the clemency given, it was the fact of having a bathroom and not having to smell their own urine. Surviving more deja vu than life has been in recent years, an endless cycle of pain and misfortune.

I never imagined that life could be this bad, when I was introduced to Stefano I knew I was not a good man, after all, what a good man in the mafia would be... And as naive as I was or tried to be, I still had a small hope of having a good marriage the life of a queen alongside the next don, that hope was extinguished at the very beginning of our marriage seven years ago. I saw the dreams being killed by this man every day and in his every decision, in front of others no one could even imagine what he is capable of, darkness hides behind the most beautiful faces. The dark, damp, windowless place hidden inside our own house, built just so you can fulfill all your desires to have a prisoner, someone to vent your fury, make you beg and break in so many different ways.

Trapped within her own desires, a mind seething with crazy ideas, with a battered body begging for some rest and some care.

Always being the brilliant husband in front of others, in front of his parents, I snorted knowing that Don Sartori would never punish the only heir for training his wife, there are people. The pains spread through his body only show how much he would be able to do the shady deals, his daily humiliations, all this in exchange for what?

That's my life, being Stefano Sartori's whore of luxury, wife would be a very inappropriate adjective considering the options. We are that, fertile wombs, golden cunts born to marry the heirs, sold to form alliances.

Today death seems more attractive than continuing to live like this...

The first beating came after a family party, Stefano said he noticed my eyes on one of the capos.

hmff

As if I could look anywhere above my head without being a betrayal.

It's been years of being molested, raped and beaten by a man who claims to love me, a man who bought our marriage demanding its acquisition before he was even of age, this man's fixation and obsession with me is completely sick, in fact, he's a sick soul that every day feeds my hate.

At sixteen, on my honeymoon, I discovered that I had married the devil himself.

I entered the room with a little fear, it would be our first night of marriage, my husband was right behind me.

Suddenly she was on the floor with her hands wrapped around her hair, I felt the strands being pulled out being pulled across the room until she was thrown on the bed like a doll.

  • I have a wedding gift for you wife - Feeling my body trembling I tried to follow the movements around the room.

His hands came over my cheek in a tender way, wiping away the tears.

"Shhh princess, I promise to try not to hurt you." His eyes sparkled.

“You've already hurt me husband,” I replied in a whisper.

'If you hadn't spent the entire wedding watching one of the De Angelis this wouldn't have happened.

Confusion took over my mind, I didn't look at anyone but him in a gray suit highlighting his sea blue eyes.

I was only allowed to observe and idolize my husband.

His left hand squeezing my neck stole the air.

“Don't try to deny it, I saw it.” Bringing his face closer, he licked my cheek and said in my ear. “And for that I'm going to punish you, so that you learn to be a good wife.

I put my head between my knees trying to escape the memories, the first times were the ones that hurt, the ones that destroyed an innocent heart and stole my soul.

As time passed and his cruelties got worse, my body got used to it, learning to deal with the pain, obeying his commands like the trained dog he likes to call. At no time is anything enough to assuage the fury and inexplicable jealousy in the face of their own attitudes.

I tried to close my eyes to escape, trying to stay in the present even though it was painful. The only thing I managed to do was suffer from the memories.

His hands ripped every part of the dress, and when only the tiny lingerie was left, his eyes gleamed.

"Is that what you wanted to give De Angelis, wife?" I shook my head in denial.

  • I've only had eyes for you all night, husband - I said exasperated feeling the knot in my belly grow.

  • If you keep lying, the punishment will get worse - I let out a sob without knowing what to do - Sit with your legs out of bed.

I obeyed his orders feeling fear cling to every corner of my heart.

  • That's what naughty wives get - He had taken something from a suitcase in the corner of the room and when he opened his hands he had a red ball and a leather strap.

Caressing my cheek, kissing my forehead, he bent down to my eye level.

“Remember, wife, this is your fault. Her hands came with the strap closing around my neck.

In a tight grip, knocking the air out of my lungs, I tried to place my hands on his arms with no effect on my body with triple the strength.

His hand pressed to my chin forcing me to open my mouth giving space to the red ball, inhibiting all my words, he closed the contraption behind the now tangled hair

In one quick movement he turned me on my back without any care.

I heard a metallic sound as soon as I was pulled back by the neck, I tried to grab the bed, but nothing seemed to be able to stop it. I was thrown on the floor and held by handcuffs on the wooden foot of the bed, feeling like I was an animal, he held my neck forcing me to lift my face and spat.

I was inert watching him taking off his own clothes, kicking when he pulled my legs and feeling like a doll when being turned on his back with his legs spreading my knees, wrists hurting by the handcuffs and the collar cutting off my breath, I felt my own saliva dripping through the corners of the mouth.

He's going to be a good husband, it's just a fit of jealousy.

I screamed something indecipherable as the pain of penetration took root from my toes until my hair was ripped out by him, it felt like my body was ripped in half. Stefano didn't wait, he just took it. And when he was done I thought he couldn't do worse.

My aching legs were barely holding up as he pushed me to my knees and the lashes started robbing me of what little air I had left. He took me again at the end of thirty lashes.

At some point I lost consciousness, woke up in bed praying it was just a nightmare, until I walked into the bathroom and saw the cuts on my skin, the dried blood between my thighs and purple wrists.

Before I even started crying the bathroom door opened and there were my husband's angry eyes.

“Don't close the door on me, you hear.” I shook my head, unable to speak.

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