The Mafia Man's Trophy [On Hold]

Chapter 35

"Loved?"

"Yes, loved."

"Are you, saying that you —" Just before I could make the mistake of finishing my question, I hear a loud voice barges inside the room where Dominic was.

"Yoooo! Kylie, is that you gorgeous?" Viktor shouts, coming into the screen. Causing me to instantly forget that I was about to ask a question that I more than likely was not ready to hear the answer to.

"Hi Viktor." I mutter, cheesing into the camera.

"How's my favorite hacker doing?" Viktor asks, taking the phone from Dominic to get comfortable as he sat in a chair.

"I'm good, how are you?" I ask beaming at him through the phone.

"I'm great, the gang misses you though." He mutters before suddenly flipping the camera so I could see Dimitri and Giovanni, who were now also lounging in the room, that I now realize was Dominic's office.

"Hey guys!" I shout, waving madly at the men, not knowing if they could even see me.

"Hey Kylie." They both respond in unison, causing me to grin brightly.

"So what's it like in big St. Lucia?" Viktor asks, finally turning the phone back to himself.

"Uh, it's stunning. I never want to leave!" I gush in excitement.

"Hey, hey, hey, not too much now." He chuckles, glaring at me mildly causing me to laugh at his expression.

For the rest of the night, I spent it on FaceTime chopping it up with the gang until I got sleepy, and then joined Pheobe in the bedroom where I snuggled into my own king sized bed.

— Two Days Later —

During a group session
Kylie

"He took me over and over. Everynight until I was nineteen, he would sneak into my bedroom while my mother was asleep, and he'd rape me." The girl with long flowing red heard mutters as she breaks out into a round of melancholic sobs.

The woman that sat beside her reaches over to pat her back comfortingly as the woman struggles to relay her story to the group. There were nine of us in total in this particular group session, and the topic for today, was sexual trauma.

This was something I struggled with immensely, and didn't know if I could've ever gotten over, but there was just something about hearing other people speak about their similar experiences, and how some of the most violent acts committed to them were done by the people closest to them really had me on the verge of breaking down in tears.

Instead, I sat numbly, and mute as I listened to the horrific stories the others shared. It would soon be my turn, and I was dreading every second that ticked by as each person's story was concluded and came closer to me sharing my own.

"When I told my mother, she never believed me. She loved her new husband more than how she loved her own daughter. So, I ran away and became emancipated, and I haven't seen either of them since." The red head finally mutters softly as her throat bobbed up and down and I clutch my hands into a tight fist as anxiety rolls through me.

I couldn't imagine my mother not believing me if I told her my step-father, her husband — was molesting me in my sleep, and penetrating my body, only for her not to believe. Yet, it was someone else's story.

Mine was a little different.
Gathering the strength, I raise my hand.

"Yes Kylie? Would you like to share?" Sharon, the shrink facilitating this session calls out to me, causing every eye in the room to land unto me.