The Princess and the Devil✔️

Rewrite: 1

I stared blankly at the ceiling. I've been up for hours. I couldn't bring myself to go back to sleep, knowing I'd be plagued with dreams. Dreams of my past. My past that I ran across the country to get away from.

I turned my head to the side as my alarm started blaring. I quickly turned it off, not wanting to wake my brother, who was sleeping soundly at the other end of the small studio apartment.

I got out of bed. I quietly moved around the room, not wanting to wake up Antonio, who didn't need to be up for a few more hours.
I grabbed a pair of slacks and a black blouse from one of my drawers for my day job as a secretary at a small law firm before going into the small bathroom. After doing my morning routine and getting dressed, I quietly grabbed my backpack and threw into it a long sleeve black dress for my night shift at the bar. I started my twenty-minute walk to the office. I had to pass by a construction site just as the workers began filing in on my way there. I kept my head down as I heard the whistles and catcalls telling me I'm beautiful, hot, and sexy.
All being beautiful has done for me is make my life hell.

People see the blonde hair that falls down my back. They see my big brown eyes that turn hazel in the light. They see the curves that God gave me and that I worked hard to keep.
But what do I see? I see his hands all over me. I see the effects on my body from when I was starved to keep the body he loved. I see the red, black, and blue marks on me from whenever I wasn't perfect. They see beauty, but all I see is pain.

I spent the entire day at the office fielding calls and typing up cases. By the end of the day I started my half hour walk to the bar.
I was working behind the bar when a gorgeous man sat down. Tall, the body of a greek god, wearing a nice dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscular tattooed arms, the designs going from his left hand and up to his neck. His hazel eyes radiated lust and power. His plump pink lips were pulled up into a smirk. I walked over to where he was sitting.
"Dove sei stata tutta la mia vita?," he said in Italian with some of the worst pronunciation I have ever heard.

"oh, conosci l'italiano?," I questioned back, seeing a dumbfounded look on his face. "Next time you try to impress a girl by talking in Italian, make sure she isn't Italian," I chuckled, a hint of my natural accent flowing through. I felt my body tighten as the ghost of his hands brushed against me. I rolled my neck shaking the feeling away, and plastered on a smile. "Can I get you a drink?" I asked, forcing my American accent back into place.

Before he could respond, I looked over his shoulder to see some guy grabbing one of my coworkers. I look over at the bouncer, seeing him once again distracted by a pretty girl hoping to get a free drink out of him. "Merda," as I jumped over the bar. I stomped over to the guy to rip his hands off her. "Back off, she's not interested."

He laughed, "look, sweetheart, this is none of your business, so why don't you get your pretty little ass back over-."

I grabbed his wrist and flipped him to the ground, then turned him to his stomach with a hold on his wrist. I pushed it up and stepped on his back. I growled at him, "Now I'm going to give you one more chance to walk out of here with your limbs still attached." He nodded his head, and I let him up as the bouncer finally came over to take him out. I looked around and saw everyone looking at us. "Can i help you?," I yelled, and the DJ took that as a sign to start the music again.

Everyone then turned back to dancing and drinking while my focus went to my coworker. "Are you okay, dolcezza?" I asked her as I checked her for any injuries.

She sent me a smile as she said, "I'm fine, thanks. That guy was being such a dick, didn't even tip me and then wanted to "show me a problem in the bathroom"." We both rolled our eyes. I looked her over one more time to make sure she was okay before heading back behind the bar.