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"Do you live here on your own?" I ask him curiously. We are just done with watching the movie White Chicks. It was pretty funny actually. I'm still laying on the couch and Giovani sits on the fauteuil next to it. Surprisingly, he didn't try anything yet. "No," he shakes his head, "Marco lives her too, and sometimes other people stay here for a while. Depends on the situation, I guess."
The strands on his head are a bit ruffled now, instead of the neatly combed cut. He undid the first three buttons of his fitted shirt, revealing a bit of his ripped chest. Marco. Who was he a- My eyes grow wide. He was the other guy along with Giovani. "Where exactly are we?" I ask. By looking out of the window, I can tell it's nowhere near my house. It looks warm and green.
"Italy," he calmly says. What the fuck. He didn't. I jolt up, running towards the window to get a better look. It sure as hell isn't the Netherlands, that much I know. Anger is seething through me like lava in a volcano. I can feel the burning liquid rise through my veins, letting me explode at any moment now. The fiery flames are bursting through my body as I look at the bastard in front of me. He brought me to fucking Italy.
I spur around giving him my angriest look. "How could you?" Frustrated tears leave my eyes while my hands are balled up in tight fists. How will I even escape if I'm so far away from home? I don't even have a passport to fly back. Giovani stands up— seemingly uncared— and stalks towards me.
"You better watch your fucking tone, Sarah." His soft brown eyes turn cold as he gives me an emotionless stare. Frantically, I keep shaking my head while tears spill over my face. "Y-You don't have the right to tell me t-that," I stammer, "you're just some fucking asshole that kidnaps girls for his own liking."
In a matter of seconds, a strong hand is wrapped around my throat. Cold eyes glare at me while his fingers squeeze my windpipes shut. I gasp for air, desperately clawing at his hand. The little amount of oxygen is already leaving my body. "L-Let me g-go," I wheeze out. A sinister smile takes over his features.
"Listen to me carefully here, Dolce. You are mine now. And like everything that is mine; I control you and you listen. If not, you will be punished properly, or maybe even one of your sisters," he pauses, "and we wouldn't want that, would we?" Fear slowly makes its way into my body as I listen to his dreadful words. Not my sisters. I would do anything in my power to protect them. They're too young to protect themselves.
"Hit a sour spot?" He darkly chuckles. I fall to the ground as his fingers let go of my throat. Air re-enters my lungs again. I cough and sputter some words out, which I'm not even sure I can understand myself. Giovani crouches down in front of me, grabbing the back of my neck and making me look up to him.
"Let one thing be really clear. If you do something wrong, your sisters are the ones paying for it. Understood?" With wide eyes I look at the man in front of me. "W-What do you want from me?" I cough. His right hand goes to my chin, tilting it slightly to look at him. "I want you to be mine. Soon you'll start to realize that it's for the best that you're here. I saved you from them, from your family," he mutters. The worst part is, he looks like he really believes that.
