Chapter 74: Sofia

My head is spinning, and my ribs are on fire, but the most important thing is to hide the evidence. With every ounce of energy I can muster, I push the folder of papers behind the couch, just in time. My fingers tremble as I tuck them away, the incriminating emails and the USB drive now out of sight. My breath catches in my throat as I hear the front door open again.

They’re back.

The sound of my parents’ footsteps fills the air, slow and deliberate. The calm before the storm. I’ve never felt terror like this before, a cold dread sinking deep into my bones. My mother’s heels clack against the hardwood floor, a cruel rhythm that matches the pounding of my heart. My father’s steps are heavier, each one thudding like a warning.

They stop in front of me, towering over where I sit. I keep my head down, trying to suppress the wave of nausea that rises up in me. I can feel their anger without even looking at them.

“You’re going to pay for this, Sofia,” my father continues, his voice deadly calm. “For everything. You think running away was smart? You think hiding from us was brave? You have no idea the trouble you’ve caused.”

I swallow hard, feeling my pulse quicken. There’s no way out of this.

“And once you’ve healed,” he says, leaning down so his face is inches from mine, “I’ll find someone else to sell you to. You’ll be gone from our lives, finally making yourself useful.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I blink back tears. It’s the same threat as always, but somehow it feels heavier now, more real.

“Why?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Why are you doing this to me?”

There’s a pause, a brief flicker of surprise in my father’s eyes before they harden again. He straightens up, crossing his arms as he looks down at me.

“Why?” he repeats, as if the question is absurd. “You want to know why? Fine.”

He exchanges a glance with my mother, and for the first time, I see something like resentment between them. But then my mother speaks, her voice cold and matter-of-fact.

“We never wanted you, Sofia,” she says, her words cutting like ice. “You were a burden from the day you were born. We didn’t ask for a child, certainly not one like you.”

I feel like the air has been sucked out of the room. My chest tightens, but I force myself to keep listening.

“We were fine without you,” she continues, her eyes narrowing. “Your father and I had a good life before you came along. And then, when you were little, we realized something—”

“We realized,” my father cuts in, “that you could be worth something. That keeping you around might actually benefit us one day.”

I stare at him, my mind reeling. “You… kept me for money?”

“Of course,” my mother says, her voice laced with cruelty. “It was the only reason to keep you. When we saw how men like Moretti showed interest in you, we knew you were valuable. The perfect little pawn.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the tears that are threatening to spill. The room feels too small, too suffocating, but I can’t look away. I can’t let them see me cry.

“And Moretti?” I ask, my voice barely audible. “Why him? Why does he want me?”

My father sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as if the whole thing is just exhausting to him.

“Moretti,” he begins, his voice carrying a strange mix of pride and bitterness, “took an interest in you a while back. We didn’t know it at first. But at one of the business meetings, you walked by, just a teenager, and he—he noticed. He mentioned it later, how you had potential. Potential to be useful.”

My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat as the truth starts to take shape.

“As you got older,” my father continues, “he started talking about marriage. How you’d be a perfect fit. It wasn’t long before the idea became… an opportunity. Moretti made it clear that if we didn’t deliver you, he’d take his business elsewhere. And we couldn’t afford to lose him.”

“And you…” I whisper, my voice shaking, “you didn’t care what happened to me? Not even for a second?”

My father’s eyes meet mine, and there’s not even a hint of remorse. “You were never supposed to matter.”

The weight of his words crashes down on me, suffocating me. I’ve always known they didn’t love me, but hearing it—hearing it like this—it’s like they’ve ripped my heart out and crushed it.

“We’re done with the questions,” my mother says, her voice sharp. “You’re going to stay put until your father decides what to do with you.”

They turn their backs on me, walking away with that same calm, deadly anger radiating off of them. I watch them disappear down the hall, the sound of the front door slamming behind them echoing through the house.

I’m alone again.

I barely have time to process everything they said—my mother’s cold indifference, my father’s heartless calculation—when I hear the front door slam open again. Panic shoots through me like lightning, freezing me in place. My father’s heavy footsteps thunder down the hall, and I know—I know—this isn’t over.

Before I can even stand, his cold, rough hand clamps around my arm, yanking me off the couch with such force that my legs nearly give out beneath me.

"Get up," he snarls, his face twisted in anger. "You think you can ask questions? You think you’re in control here?"

The pain shoots through my side as he drags me across the room, his grip bruising, merciless. I try to steady myself, to keep my footing, but he’s moving too fast, dragging me like I’m nothing more than a rag doll.

"Please..." I whisper, but it’s like I’m not even there. His eyes are focused, burning with a rage I’ve never seen before.

We reach the stairs, and I nearly trip as he hauls me up each step, my feet barely able to keep up. My head throbs, the dizziness setting in again, and for a moment, I’m sure I’m going to pass out. But he doesn’t stop.

The door to my old room is already open, and before I know it, I’m thrown onto the bed, the mattress creaking under the sudden weight. The world spins around me as I try to sit up, but his hand is back, this time pushing me down onto the bed with a force that knocks the breath out of me.

"You think you’re smart, don’t you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you could come back and mommy and daddy would forgive you?"

I don’t dare respond. My pulse is racing, fear gripping me so tightly I can hardly breathe.

He yanks something from his pocket—a thick, dirty rope. The realization of what he’s about to do hits me like a punch to the gut.

"No—" I start to protest, struggling to get up, but his hand slams me back down again.

"Shut up!" he shouts, his face inches from mine, the stench of his breath making me gag. "I’m done with your games. You stay here, and you don’t move. I’ll deal with you when I’m ready."

I can’t fight him—he’s too strong, too angry. He ties the rope tightly around my wrists, securing them to the metal headboard, the rough fibers digging into my skin. I pull against the restraint instinctively, but the rope holds firm, burning my wrists as I struggle. Tears blur my vision as I realize just how trapped I am.

When he’s satisfied that I can’t move, he steps back, his face cold and calculating. "You’re going to stay here, like a good girl, and you’re going to think about how much you’ve messed up."

He walks to the door, his movements slow and deliberate, and pulls out a key from his pocket.

"You try to escape again, Sofia," he says, his voice dropping into a chilling whisper, "and you’ll regret it more than you already do."

With that, he slams the door shut, the sound echoing through the room like a death knell. I hear the lock click into place, trapping me inside. I’m alone again, this time in a cage of my own home.

I pull against the ropes, desperate, but it’s no use. My wrists burn from the effort, and I feel the warm sting of tears sliding down my cheeks. I’m trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.

The seconds pass and the panic in my chest rises as the pain in my ribs kills me every time I breathe. The more I think, the more I panic, and the more I lose focus. The room starts spinning as I hyperventilate and, soon after, everything turns to dark.