Sold to Moretti Mafia

Elena

Rushing down the stairs, I enter the kitchen, which is empty. The French doors that lead outside are wide open, letting the breeze from the ocean in. Where should I go first? I walk out the doors and look both ways. I see nothing but the beach for miles.

The air is salty as I breathe it into my lungs, but I love it. Love the freedom that surrounds me, the sound of the ocean, and the way my toes feel in the sand. Randomly choosing, I go left and head away from the mansion.

Walking along the beach, the water creeps closer and eventually washes over my feet. The water is cold, and a shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure how long I walk before coming to a small area that’s overgrown with trees and vegetation. I almost don’t see the small boathouse peeking out in between the green leaves.

I consider turning around because the last thing I want to do is go trespassing into something, but there is a nagging at the back of my mind that tells me to investigate further.

Julian said there were no other boats on the island. Was he lying? Or is this boathouse empty? Maybe it’s not a boathouse at all?

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I continue walking toward it. My steps are hesitant, and fear coils deep in my gut. It could be nothing just a small abandoned outbuilding, or it could be something bigger than that.

Just a small peek inside, I tell myself. I just want to know what’s inside.

As I get closer, walking deeper into the overgrowth, I realize how old and run down this building is. The slats of wood are debilitated, and the paint on them is chipped away by the elements. Smiling to myself, I feel as if I’ve won a trophy.

I bet Julian has no idea that this is here. I get to the door and tug on the handle, which is barely hanging on. I find it’s not locked but cracked open. The hinges creak as I pull the door open and stick my head inside.

My eyes go wide as I take in the motorboat inside the wooden building. I could leave right now, without a word, get a head start. It’s what I should do, but deep down, I know I can’t.

I can’t leave Julian. I want to warn my father, and I plan to, to tell him to leave me alone, that I’m happy where I am, but I can’t leave, not yet.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Taking a step back, I let the door fall closed, and feel like I’m betraying myself a little as I walk back through the heavy foliage and onto the beach.

Awareness washes over me, and I realize that I’ve been gone for some time, so instead of continuing on with my adventure, I head back to the house.

Instead, maybe I’ll find Marie, and we can do something together. Make some cookies or watch some tv together? The secret of what I found presses heavily like a stack of bricks on my shoulders. I’m walking up the backside of the mansion, returning the same way I left when I hear what sounds like scuffling in the kitchen. I’ve not yet reached the French doors to see inside, so I have no idea what is happening, but my heart thunders in my chest, and my legs kick into overdrive when I hear a deep male voice.

“You’ll do as I fucking say, or I’ll tell Julian that you’re a spy…” I know that voice. It belongs to one of Julian’s guards, Clyde, I think.

“Please, don’t…” Marie softly cries, and I know whatever is happening is bad.

Rushing into the kitchen, my blood is pumping, and I’m ready to destroy. When I spot Marie facing me, her eyes are wide with fear, and tears slip freely down her cheeks.

Clyde is tugging at her clothes like she is a ragdoll.

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to enjoy it. Do you understand me?” Clyde’s voice is nauseating, and I hate that I have to slow my steps. My eyes dart to the butcher block sitting on the counter near the stove, and I don’t even think, I just react.

Darting toward the butcher block, I grab the first knife my fingers touch, which also happens to be the biggest. The blade gleams in the light, and my hands shake while rage simmers just beneath the surface.

Rushing around the island, I lift the knife above my head just as he slips a hand beneath Marie’s maid dress. All I see are her tear-stained cheeks, the pain in her eyes.

I put everything I have into that strike, and the knife cuts through him like hot butter and sticks like an ax in a piece of wood in his back.

Immediately, he turns on me, fury in his eyes, his lips curls up, and he roars with rage. I reach for the knife, attempting to tug it out of his back, but a sting of pain ripples across my hand as my palm makes contact with the blade instead of the handle.

“You will pay for that, you little fucking bitch,” he snarls, and before I can comprehend what is going on, his fist is flying at my face.

The blow lands against my cheek with the intensity of a house slamming into me, and nearly sends me to the ground. Somehow, I manage to keep my footing, even as pain radiates across my cheek, and blood fills my mouth.

Clyde takes a menacing step toward me, his eyes gleaming with red hot rage. Lifting his hand as if he’s going to punch me once more, and my eyes drift closed as if out of instinct.

Oh, god.

The hit never comes. Silence surrounds us, and that’s when I open my eyes again and find Clyde on the ground, his eyes vacant and Marie standing in front of me.

“He will blame me for this.” Her voice is nothing more than a tremble, and I know she is right. Julian will kill her for this, even while knowing it isn’t her fault.

My face aches, and my hand throbs, reminding me of the fresh cut there. Warm blood drips down my fingers and onto the white tile, where an even bigger splotch of blood is forming beneath Clyde’s body.

Instantly, I know what I have to do.

Grabbing a kitchen towel, I wrap it around my hand as tightly as I can. “Come on. I’m going to get you out of here. He can’t hurt you if you aren’t here.”

Turns out, my plan to save the boat for another time was a good choice. Marie needs to be saved far more than I do.