An Italian's Escort Lover (IRS Book 2)

Chapter 5

Flashback continues...

Phoebe Point of View

It has been a month I saw Niccolo last time.

That night after securing my self-respect, he went out of his house, leaving me with the doctor. His friend who came with the doctor followed Niccolo and that was the last time I saw Niccolo.

The next day and night was to be spent with Niccolo as well but he did not return whatsoever but he did make sure to send a girl to give me necessities and food.

I was confused. I did not know what was better and what not. Was having Niccolo with me was a relief to me or was staying alone?

All I wanted was to be left alone and when finally I was given the space I needed, I felt as if it was not right.

I felt guilty for putting him in a tight spot that night. He was not the reason for my current situation and moreover he was trying to make me comfortable and help me but being emotionally wrecked, I showed my gratitude by making him leave his own house.

Such ungrateful person I am!

"Move B***h, hurry up. Your Master is waiting for you." The supervisor lady pushed me harshly towards an awaiting luxurious looking car.

After that night, I was not booked by anyone thankfully but just this morning, the House received money to book me with some stranger man for the night.

I saved myself that night anyhow, but how many nights would I be able to put up with this? How strong can I be to avoid this happening?

How many days should I live with this fear, God! Should I be like this for those thirteen long years?

The driver opened the back side car door for me and I was pushed inside it unceremoniously bumping my head to the top of the car.

My only dream right now is to run away from here and beg on streets to live if needed. But in this one month I understood what Niccolo said that night. I understood how powerful the Escort house authorities are.

They have eyes everywhere. It is like they have a record on number of times a person sneezed too.

Though I was provided with room of my own on the far end of the west wing, I can still feel being watched. Girls who live here were mostly forced into it due to many reasons. I do not have any friends here nor I have any enemies; some girls are just polite and civil with each other and it was through them I learnt of the punishments that girls receive if they try to escape or try to end their life.

I was so thankful to Niccolo that he told the authorities how the cut on my hand was caused when he we were spending the night in bed.

The bruise of Passion, he said!

Heaven knows what that means but it helped me.

"W-where are we going, sir?" I asked the driver who started driving me through the busy lanes of the city.

"To where boss is waiting for you, Ma'am." He answered shortly.

I guess, tonight is the night that I lose my dignity. There is no way to escape from their clutches now.

I was so engulfed in my own thoughts that I did not notice the halt of the car and my side of the car door was already open. When I jerked out from my thoughts, I noticed a hand waiting for me to take it. I looked up to see the owner of the hand and was shocked to say the least.

What is he doing here?

"Get out, we need to go." He said emotionlessly and pulled me out of the car. The driver that drove me nodded his head to him before leaving from there.