I had sex with Cillian, let him knot me. I don’t take that lightly.
It feels like some sort of fucked up psychological warfare.Was he toying with me? Getting me comfortable enough until I agreed to come to his home and then trap me here like I am now?
I sniffle and wipe my face on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. How could I have been so fucking blind?
‘Just know that I could have easily returned you back to your demented brother, but I didn’t.’
Finn’s words, which had me bursting out into laughter, repeat in my head. There’s no doubt in my mind that Anthony’s pissed. But there’s no way he truly wants me back. All he would do is send me to an even worse pack to become another little play thing.
I feel like property, and I don’t think there’s a more hopeless feeling. I’m at the mercy of these men, and I have no idea of their true intentions.
Finn didn’t lay a hand on me, but he spoke to me as if I was a dog that needed to heel. I’m a fucking person, with needs and feelings that have been constantly discarded since my father’s passing.
Declan had become my friend; my feelings were growing for him, but the moment he put that needle in my neck, all the light, caring hopefulness I felt towards him morphed into a dark, snarling, explosive ball of anger. I loathe him.
I hate all of them, and if they think I’m going to make this easy, they’re delusional. Finn might think he can get me to bow and cower like a hopeless Omega, and while I may not be a fighter, I’m not going down without swinging.
The doorknob tips down, and I’m preparing myself for round two with Finn when an older, robust woman wearing a floral floor-length skirt and black button-up enters the room with a tray. An armed man stands behind her; his finger isn’t on the trigger, but he makes sure to make it a point to let me know that he is armed and ready.
Part of me wants to bait him into shooting me. I’m sure he has direct orders not to harm me—not really, anyway—unless absolutely necessary. Finn wants to break my mind, not my body, at least for now.
The woman places the tray on the bed and looks at me.
“I’ll ask Mr. Finn about new clothes for you,” she says with a curt nod. She keeps her eyes down as she walks away.
“Mr. Finn can fuck himself,” I mumble, and I swear her lip twitches, but she leaves the room alongside her escort.
The click of the door locking has the tears starting up again.
I look around the room, at the cage I’ll now be calling home. It might be seeped in luxury, but it’s also soaked with hatred.
My bravado slowly dissipates, panic taking it’s place. I can’t leave this room. I’m completely at their mercy.
No one is coming to save me.
No one cares that I’m here.
I’m hopelessly and completely fucking alone.
My heart thunders in my chest as my breaths come out rapidly. I stand and pace the area in front of the bed, trying to calm my racing heart rate. But a rage takes over me instead.
Fuck this room. Fuck Cillian, Logan, and Declan. But most of all, fuck Finn O’Brien.
I pick the tray of food up, swing it above my head, and toss it against the door as hard as I can with a scream. It feels good to watch the dish break and the food drip down the door for a short moment.
I’m heaving from the exertion. The truth is, I was really fucking hungry, but I refuse to make this easy for them. They wanted an Omega so badly? Well, a feral, hateful one is what they’ll get.
They can try to break me all they want, but they forget who I really am.
I might be an Omega, my heart might be soft, but these bastards just broke it. Now, they’re going to find out what Matteo Amante’s daughter is truly capable of.
I don’t care if it kills me. I’m going to make these motherfuckers pay.
There’s no delusion of whom I’m dealing with. I know exactly what these mafia men are like. I might have to endure everything I feared, but I’ll never give them what they want.
My submission, my body, is mine.
I’d rather suffer, ache, and hurt myself than ever get on my knees or back for these men.
