Only His

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Chapter 4

ALICE POV


Slowly I began to wake up from my sleep that I couldn’t remember falling into. My initial thoughts were that maybe I had fallen asleep in the office, but I disregarded that once I realized I was lying down. I hadn’t opened my eyes because my head was ringing. How could that be? I had not been drinking so it couldn’t have been a hangover....

Suddenly everything came rushing back - the dead bodies, the men, Alexander and his brother Antonio. But above all I remembered being drugged.

I chose that moment to sit up, eyes open. However I overestimated my recovery time to the drug as my face contorted due to the painful pounding in my head.

“It took you longer than expected to wake up,”

I glanced up and saw Antonio who was leaning against the door to the room I was lying in. The room was dark and dusty. There were no windows and the only light source was the flickering light which dangled from the center of the ceiling, however the switch was clearly not inside of the room as I couldn’t see it. The room stank and upon further inspection I noticed the blood stains that were splattered on the walls and floor like graffiti. And there I sat at the center of what seemed to be a prison cell on top of an old mattress which was partially torn open in areas, the filling also spilling out of it. I was shaking uncontrollably, though I hadn’t even had time to recognize my own fear.

“Why have you taken me”

Antonio just chuckled at me although it lacked humor and I could tell it was more threatening than friendly.

“I don’t think your in a position to be asking questions Alice”

He clearly drew out my name and said it bitterly. I began to cry as I started my next question.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I was practically sobbing and I looked up at Antonio to see he was moving slowly towards me, like a predator to its prey. I stilled as he crouched down to my level, too nervous to move but also prepared to sprint away.

He let out a heavy sigh, he was only a few inches away so I felt his warm breath on my face.

“Yes”

I barely had registered his answer as I found myself lying on the mattress, my hand cradling my burning cheek. He had slapped me.

“I told you Alice, you are in no position to ask questions. Consider that a warning, and I’d take it because you sure as hell won’t be getting another one.”

I just sobbed into the rotten material. Instantly flashes of my past abuser came into my mind and I knew that I would find myself in the same treacherous loop I had only recently gotten out of.

I heard the door close, and I don’t know if it was due to the hit or just exhaustion but once again I let sleep take me.

“Shirt off” Ryan told me, his voice filled with hate.

“I’m sorry, please” I tried to get him to show me mercy but I knew it was pointless.

“Now”

I complied, it was all I could do. I had gone out without telling Ryan and now I would be punished. I deserved this

The first strike was like a tease. It stung but I knew worse was to come. After about 10 strikes I started to cry and after 20 I could no longer hold back my screams.

Each time the thick belt was brought down on my back, leaving more lash marks I knew would never really heal, I felt more and more pain.

Eventually he stopped. It must have been around lash 30 by now. He just walked away, leaving me to fall to the floor, half naked and covered in my own blood from the deep cuts on my back. He used to make me thank him, after each hit. But now he knew I was brainwashed. I was almost subconsciously thankful for the punishment. I had been taught to think that if I did something wrong, pain was what I deserved.

He could have been worse. He could use a slimmer whip, fresh and not worn. That would shred my skin to ribbons.

As usual I jolted awake. However I had no way to tell what time it was. The lights were out and I was in complete darkness. I shook and shifted myself so my back was against the grimy wall and my knees were pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them in an attempt to protect myself.

I was so tired of this same routine of plagued dreams, and now, if my situation with Ryan wasn’t bad enough, I’m being held captive in a cell by a mafia leader.

It was so cold and I was only wearing thin material. In a desperate attempt to keep some heat on my body I frantically rubbed my arms up and down using my palms, however it soon proved unaffected and so I gave up.

In the solitude and darkness of the room, my mind soon began to drift off to dark places. Antonio had already slapped me to the point of unconsciousness, the power of it only proved his experience. But most importantly if he could slap me I was certain it could only get worse. What’s next?

Once again as the fear took over I hadn’t noticed how my teeth were gnawing away at my lips, until I tasted the bittersweet blood on my tongue. It was a habit of mine. What was I doing? I had more important questions to ask then what would happen because hopefully if I used a strategy to find out where I was and why, to try and escape then I would not find out how far Antonio could go.

I had to play my cards wisely. He was after all the best in his business and would be used to people manipulating him into letting them go and trying to gain his trust. However I’m different. I’ve studied kidnapping victims. I know the realistic timeframes it takes to develop mental attachments, different disorders and things that came during the actual kidnapping.

There were lots of disorders anyone in my position could develop. Depression and anxiety for instance (both of which I already suffered with). That was another worry. I was supposed to take medication for my issues, ever since the Ryan incident I had been prescribed medication. I was most worried about my Prozac because if I had an anxiety attack, I needed it asap.

But the main worry was the well known Stockholm Syndrome. It is a condition severely underrated amongst people in the general community. It’s been glamorized and turned into something people write off as a unique romance. But it’s very much real and something any kidnapping victim should prepare themselves for.

I had to look out for the signs, I would get more nightmares or flashbacks and then insomnia, I would become very stressed, somewhat confused and startle easily. Then, of course I would trust my captor and only them. I would become solely reliant on that one person. Then eventually I would truly love them because I would start to see them as my caregiver and my brain would start favoring the good over the bad things they did. I would actually feel as though I would be in love with my abductor.

And although his intentions for me still were not clear, I knew I had to get out before there was even a chance I could let that happen.


ANTONIOS POV

It had been 3 days since I rescued my brother and in doing so had taken Alice Green.

She was obviously already tired when I took her because the drug had knocked her out for a day rather than the few hours it usually affected my other victims. Then she had been left in the room, no food or water, for an extra two days.

Today I would go in for some more information, it would work simply. If she gave me answers she got food, if she didn’t then more punishments would be given until I heard what I wanted.

I had ordered for a file on her to be put together and I was now at my desk reading through it.

Name: Alice Louisa Green

Age: 22

Birthdate: 9th June 1998

Parents:

Mother- Clara Green

Passed away of cancer in 2017

Father- Benjamin Green

Absent since 2004

Siblings: No known siblings

Relationships: Ex boyfriend convicted for abuse against Alice Green.

That last line immediately caught my attention. Alice had been a victim of abuse.

That made me angry. Another man had laid his hands on something that was mine. And that idea only made me want to punish her more.

She was an intriguing little thing. Very smart and very beautiful. She was very easy for me to read. Clearly she had some sort of trauma from her abusive relationship, that of course was expected of her and I’d be sure to do some digging on exactly what had happened. I could tell this from her reactions to my presence. She was used to the treatment.

She would definitely be fun to break. Of course I wanted to keep her personality intact, I wasn’t into it when a woman became a ghost like shell of themselves, but she needed to fully submit to me. She would listen, never disobey, she would be mine in every way possible.

She was of course my woman, so once I took her out of the cell today I would need her checked up on. It is important that she is healthy so she can cope with her punishments which will inevitably come later on.

Even a perfect, little, fragile thing like my Alice would misbehave. I was well aware it would take her a while to become exactly what I wanted. But by the time I was done with her she would be perfect. And she would be all mine.


ALICE POV

I didn’t know how long I had been locked away in the dark cell.

It could have been weeks, days or even hours for all I knew due to the fact that there was no light source to help me decipher even the simplest things such as whether it was night or morning.

However the hunger in my stomach was enough to tell me it had been at least a day or two.

I had been kidnapped in the evening and hadn’t eaten since lunch that day, so it must have been at least 24 hours since I had a meal. Unfortunately for me I was one of those girls who had to eat. I couldn’t really go without my three meals a day. I would begin to feel sick, eventually that feeling would pass but I would be left with a disgusting emptiness in my stomach.

It was dark in the room, I couldn’t see a thing- the only light coming in from the crack underneath the heavy, locked, door, there was a light but its switch was outside the room. Even with my sense of vision essentially gone I still felt as though the room was spinning. But I knew that was the dehydration talking.

I hadn’t had a drink since I was taken either. My lips were cracked and my dreams were becoming more vivid, in an attempt to welcome hallucinations I knew would come soon. My throat was dry and scratchy too.

I imagined that once I got out - if I got out - of the dreaded room I would have a completely horse voice. I had barely spoken.

The worst part was the fact I had no bathroom. I could cope with the smell of my sweaty body, even the greasy hair that was matted and seemed to weigh down because of it’s filthy state. Although when it came to relieving myself I had never been so undignified in my life. Antonio had been so kind as to leave a bucket in the corner of the room. Of course I tried to ignore my instinctive urge but I figured giving in was better than the other option of what would inevitably happen if I refused the makeshift toilet.

It was a challenge to stay awake. I had no energy and preserved the little I did still clutch onto, by barely moving. I presumed anyone who looked at me would think I was dead upon a first glance.

But Antonio was smart. He knew exactly how to do this to a person. He was experienced. I knew I would only get out when he decided.

But when would that be?

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