Chapter 65 Camilla’s Pov.
I've been waiting for Àlvaro to come for me but it's been weeks and right now, I feel like I've been waiting for something that's never going to happen.
I was slowly giving up.
Waiting for him was like waiting for the sun to rise at night. Maybe I really didn't mean anything to him. Hell, he might even be glad to have finally gotten rid of me but no! I saw the way he knelt down to beg Sergei to save my life. Surely, that counted for something.
But why hasn't he come to save me?
I'm broken because I was beginning to believe that I could actually have a life with him. I think I'm in love with him and it's killing me.
The door flew open and two women walked in. One was blonde, her hair pulled tightly into a bun. She looked to be in her late thirties with a stony and unreadable face.
The second woman looked much younger, her reddish brown hair was cut short, her face was round and rosy.
“Up, get up.” The blonde ordered, her foot tapping impatiently.
My legs wobbled as I struggled to stand and just as I put my weight on both my legs, they collapsed.
The younger girl said something in Russian before kneeling down beside me to help me to my feet. She practically carried me as she led me into the bathroom.
“You're bruised everywhere. We will cover what we can with makeup but we'll need to lather you in soothing cream after your shower.”
My entire body felt like it was on fire as I collapsed into the shower bath. The elder woman turned on the taps and I felt the cool water attempting to extinguish the fire that erupted all over my body.
But no amount of water could extinguish the fire raging deep within my soul.
The younger woman was by my side, rubbing soaps and shampoos into my hair. I didn't even care that I was completely naked in front of her because it's not like I would've been able to shower on my own.
Soon, the older woman turned off the shower. Helping me up, she wrapped me in a fluffy towel and sat me down in front of the mirror.
She began lathering cream all over my body. It stung for a little while but then, the stinging turned into warmth.
I finally glanced at my face in the mirror. It was bruised, bloodied and swollen. I cringed as I touched my cheek, wincing in the process. They were quite swollen. The cuts had been washed clean of blood and I couldn't even begin to imagine what I looked like before my shower.
I looked much thinner. My bones were threatinging to stick out from my shoulders and my face looked narrower and more defined.
The women began doing my makeup and hair, painting my face with concealer, covering up every single imperfection until it felt like I had a new face.
They painted, pulled, combed and straightened for hours until they were finally done.
I opened my eyes to see a new face staring back at me. A fake face.
All traces of cuts and bruises were gone, instead what was staring back at me was a smoothly painted porcelain face, with perfectly contoured cheeks, bright red lips, lined eyelids and long lashes.
I cringed as I looked at my reflection. This person staring back at me was not me. It was a replica.
My hair was straightened, cleaned free of blood and brushed free of tangles. It hung down to my waist.
“Get changed.” The older woman muttered, handing me a spaghetti strapped white dress that looked almost….almost like a wedding dress. A veil hung by the dress and I felt bile rising up my throat.
“N-no.” I winced. “I'm not fucking wearing that. I won't.”
The younger woman's eyes went wide. “Miss, you have to. He'll kill us if you don't wear it. He might even kill you too.”
Death seemed pleasant right now as opposed to subjecting myself to what Vincenzo has in mind for me but the last thing I wanted was for someone else to die because of me.
I grabbed the dress from the hanger, slipping into the dreadful gown as the older woman slipped the veil over my head.
I stared at my reflection. Distaste flowed through my mouth like the bitter taste of a lemon. The older woman urged me to move forward as we left the bathroom and into the bedroom.
He was already sitting down in the room, that bastard Vincenzo, grinning from ear to ear as he saw me, clearly pleased.
“Beautiful.”
A tear dropped down my cheek, ruining the perfect makeup.
\~~~
The slimy fucking bastard held me to him and I watched in complete horror as two men sat on the other side of the room, holding a video camera.
“Shhh. Stop crying…it's bothering me.”
I let out another sob as he pressed his lips to my neck. I pushed against him but he was too strong. I was slowly losing the fight inside of me that wanted me to push back.
He threw me on the bed and I felt the agony and dread flow through me like an ocean.
I let out a scream as he began undressing me, hot tears burned down my face as I struggled against him but it was no use. I wasn't strong enough.
He pulled back the veil and his lips smashed against my face. I bit back at him, pressing my hands flush against his chest as I struggled to throw him off me.
He just pressed harder, his hands tugging at my clothes, pulling the dress off me.”
“I'm going to fuck you, Camilla.” He growled into my ear with a loud voice. “And I'm going to make Àlvaro Castillo watch.”
I let out another shrill scream as he took off his pants and I prayed for God to take me now. To just kill me so I don't have to endure this anymore.
I just wanted to die.
But just as I felt his dick about to enter my pussy, just as he was about to rape me, there was a hail of gunfire.
Àlvaro's Pov.
We were able to finally trace the van's plate to this outdated compound. It had taken us so fucking long because my sick uncle had covered his tracks so fucking well. We had gone on a total of fourteen false leads before we finally tracked down these fuck heads to this compound.
It was about midnight.
We had thrown grenades into the guard towers and our snipers had taken out the men that were at the front of the building.
We broke into the main building of the compound. Santiago and I weren't holding back as we killed every fucking living thing that stood in our way.
An armed man came out from behind me but I was faster. I lodged my knife into his skull, retracted it, and shoved it right through the bastard's heart.
Santiago opened his mouth to say something to me when we heard a familiar scream.
Camilla.