His Captive (A Mafia Captive Romance)

Prologue

In Mahabharata, Shakuni had stabbed his own leg and taken a vow to destroy the entire Kuru clan. Though the thought of my brother doing anything even the bare minimum for me is laughable. My brother doesn't love me like Shakuni loved his sister. He limped his whole life with the injured leg. It reminded him of the vow, the purpose of his revenge.

Perhaps I should have done something similar to myself as a reminder. Shakuni did it to avenge the injustice done to his sister, whilst I couldn't expect the same with my brother. He had his own priorities set.

Shakuni didn't forget his oath till his last breath. But I forgot who I was to him in 40 days.

That's it. That's all it took him to break me because I was actually that weak.

The realization just struck me as I was lying on the damp floor, shivering in the cold with my tattered clothes. Every inch of my body is burning hot in pain. I am actually thankful for the ache, it's a constant reminder that his sharp blows haven't killed me yet.

My head lulled to the opposite side of where my limp legs are lying awkwardly on the floor. I wheezed for air, inhaling a laboured breath. The room had smelled like a dirty wet dog when I was roughly shoved inside, my eyes had watered when I choked on the musty air. The stale air of the basement is now mixed with the metallic stench of my blood and my urine. I had pissed myself after the blow landed on my cheek, I had never been hurt like this before. But it was more because of the hatred in his hazel eyes, the promise of more violence in his sneer. And the sheer disgust on his face. Join the club, I hate myself more than you do. I had made a mistake and now I was paying for it the only way a violent Bratva man can think of.

The humiliation of lying on my piss was bigger than the agony of being kidnapped from my own house. I am a mafia princess, pride and honor are our pillars. I let go of it all, a weak princess without any honour.

I had always known there wasn't anything special about me but I had let him call me beautiful. Blushed crimson when he whispered how perfect I was when he thrust in and out of me. It all happened because I had allowed him. My nod to his advances was my biggest downfall.

Blood spilled out of my mouth when I laughed at myself. The heavy metal door jammed shut blocking the beacon of sunshine and hope. The basement was cascaded in the darkness.

Groaning in pain, I curled myself in a fetal position, clutching my middle, relieved to find it there because I had lost the sensation there.

'Know your place' A phrase often taken up to be spoken by the arrogant pricks to their underlings when they want to patronize someone. It's not a warning. It is a bitter piece of advice to not make yourself comfortable and always have your guard up, your enemy strikes when you least expect it.

More tears trickled down my eyes, and a hoarse sob escaped from my mouth. The blood is still rushing to my heart, my lungs are still filling with air. It's never too late to learn. Wheezing in pain I part my lips and murmur.

"I was snatched off of my life. I was kidnapped from my home and I am his captive." The words came out like a broken whisper. I hated the helplessness in them. I had a timid voice compared to my huge body, the only delicate or feminine thing about me, as I used to think before. Before he taught me self-love, I loved myself and my body because he loved it.

"I was snatched off of my life. I was kidnapped from my home and I am his captive."

It should have been engraved in my memory from the very first day the day I was being taken. I deserve the pain. The metallic liquid pooled inside my mouth, but I gurgled out through the blood.

"I was snatched off of my life. I was kidnapped from my home and I am his captive."

I tried to spit the blood out of my mouth but it didn't move an inch with my broken jaw. I pushed a dirty finger inside my mouth to draw the blood out. The tick of my jaw resonated in the basement, followed by a sharp pain radiating across my face.

I saw white stars flooding my vision in the darkroom, feeling myself drown lower on the concrete floor.

My body became numb, I closed my eyes and embraced my final moments. Instead of seeing my loved ones, his face swam in my vision. Because I am pathetic, I became a victim of Stockholm syndrome after all. I shook my head, despite the pain, repeating the words in my head.

My body was giving in to the pain. My head felt heavy and I had trouble concentrating on what was I supposed to repeat over and over. Drifting in the darkness only one thing floated in my head.

'His captive.'

'His captive..'

'His captive...'

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I would love it if you checked out my other stories, 'Aurora's Aura' 'Billion Dollar Wedding' 'Violet Hues' 'Becoming Romeo' & ''Mafia & Miss Honey'. The story link is on my profile