Chapter 4 Don't send me back

• ROXANNE
• I lay crumpled on the large desk like a withered flower.
• He was gone.
• Gone.
• Was he really gone? Then, why do I still feel his presence?
• My blurry gaze lifted to the camera above, were those cruel domineering gazes of his watching me right now while I couldn't see him?
• Somehow, this thought left me more exposed than when he'd been here, knowing he possessed every power over my life even through a screen.
• I searched around for my battered clothes, anything to shield my body from his possibly malicious ones.
• Dressing up in my torn clothing wasn't enough, because I still felt the very touch of his hands on my skin which contrasted against the cold feel of his knife earlier.
• Even worse, I could still feel the way his hot flesh had pressed against me.
• My slit still felt warm, he'd only been an inch away breaking in.
• What stopped him?
• I didn't think it was my plea, if anything he'd seemed to enjoy it when I begged, but in that last moment, he'd walked out, while wearing that look on his face.
• It was an expression I knew too well, because it always reflected back at me whenever I looked in the mirror.
• That feeling of being haunted by something greater than anything physical.
• What was it about me that triggered him to look so afflicted?
• Or maybe it wasn't me. Maybe it was my sister.
• After all, she was the person they wanted in the first place.
• I didn't know how long I lay on the desk cursing my fate, why didn't they get Martina?
• Why did their mistake turn out to be my misfortune?
• If they had taken her instead of me, I would be free and living a new life in another country. My brother and father would have gone running to save their precious princess.
• They would have done anything, paid any price for her.
• It was ironic that I'd also brought bad luck to my kidnappers, he would gain nothing because it didn't matter to my family if I was tortured or ended up dead.
• Nicolas would probably watch the video of me being violated and laugh, who knew he might even jerk off to it, he'd always gotten his sick pleasure whenever I suffered.
• Last time, he'd assaulted me, he'd vowed to claim my virginity, and I had sworn within me that there wouldn't be a next time, which was why I'd bought the tickets to escape him.
• Who knew I would get dragged to the same hell I was running from?
• How long before my terrifying captor returned and finished what he had started?
• How many more torments would he inflict on me before he finally understood what I was trying to tell him?
• Even if he sliced me open as he'd promised, my family would never come for me.
• A thousand questions of my possible fate scoured through me.
• The camera above me turned blurry once more as I wiped the tears from my chin.
• Something within me cracked, I pushed myself from the desk. If I was going to die anyway, I wouldn't do it crying here.
• To whomever was watching, my father, Nico. Or HIM.
• “No one is coming!” I yelled to the camera.
• Anger, fear and frustration boiled into one intense emotion rushing through my veins.
• “They are not coming to save me! I'm Roxanne! I'm not Martina!” The words tore out of me, and then I was screaming, chanting off the words like some mantra.
• “No one is coming. I'm not Martina. Let me out!”
• I didn't expect the response to come in the next instant.
• The door banged open, and I flinched backwards when two muscular and scary-looking men appeared in the doorway.
• “Get up! Boss wants you.” One spoke gruffly.
• My anger morphed into fear once more as I shrank into myself.
• “What does he want?!” I tried to crawl away as they stormed towards me but I was no match for them. One of the men grasped my arm and dragged me to my feet.
• “You don't question the boss, stupid whore,” He cursed at me.
• My surroundings were a blur of intricate modern house designs and suddenly a larger expensive-looking door was opened and next thing I knew, my body was sent crashing on the marble floor.
• Pain blistered on my knees which had scraped open, and the heavy smell of wood and cigar flooded my nostrils.
• I could feel his dark presence even before I looked up.
• My breath got stuck in my throat when I realized that he wasn't alone in the dimly lit room. My eyes held his harsh unforgiving ones, there was a woman sprawled naked on his thigh, her breasts were completely exposed as she ground her hips against him.
• She was slim to the point of being brittle and right now her eyes were narrowed at me in an unkind appraisal.
• I forced myself to look away, darting my attention to the several others who were around the large oak table, all of them watching me like a hawk about to devour its prey.
• There was a dark-skinned man with a sneer on his face, his black eyes trailing me from head to toe with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
• He walked slowly to perch on the edge of the massive table, and instinctively, I huddled closer into my torn clothes, wishing they didn't cover so little.
• But it was the cold-hearted beast who’d used his blade on me that frightened me the most; the way his cold grey eyes seemed to strip off all of my clothes and my defences as well.
• “This is Piccolo’s sister you were talking about?” The dark skinned man broke the silence, I could feel his leering gaze on me even though my attention lingered on their leader.
• “Stupid Dante thought he was bringing me, Martina,” He grunted, taking a sip from his glass.
• “Ewww… I think she's stinky, don't you smell it too, Van Dyke?” The naked girl on his lap wrinkled her nose at me.
• Van Dyke.
• The name rang a bell, but I just couldn't place it.
• “Shut the f*ck up, Lola” he snarled as he pushed the naked girl off roughly and growled, “Get to the other room, c*nt, wait for me to come and f*ck you again. Then you may leave.”
• My body shuddered unwillingly at his crude statements but my fear turned into something deeper when the darker man walked forward.
• Something about him made my defences go on high alert, this was the exact way I felt when Nico was around.
• My body trembled on the floor when he stepped towards me, a long thin finger reaching out to tilt my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. I shrank as I saw the open lust in his eyes.
• I was terrified of Van Dyke, but this was different. This was a primal fear that sent my blood racing, I started to edge away from him but there was nowhere to go.
• ‘So what if she isn't Martina, We can use her first, what do you say? It's been so fucking long since we enjoyed a good gangbang party,”
• His words made my stomach roil with nausea, and my body flinched when his hand slowly travelled downward, boldly caressing my breast.
• A sob caught in my throat when he pinched my nipple. Then he twisted. The scream tore from my throat as I tried to wiggle from his hands which were sliding down my abdomen.
• My eyes flew to the dimmest part of the room where he sat. Watching me suffer. I knew he was in charge of these men, only he had the power to stop all this. A tear rolled down my eye when he just sipped his whisky, still watching me with that merciless gaze..
• I could feel fingers probing my folds apart, I squeezed my legs together to prevent the intrusion.
• “Leave the c*nt, Snake. We can send her back to her brother. She’s of no…”
• I could barely hear his words because with a new spurt of courage, or rather desperation, I broke free from the man who held me captive. My knees ached as I crawled towards him. Van Dyke, swallowing my last bit of dignity.
• Rather than having all these men around fuck me like a sex doll for their entertainment, I'd rather have one man do it.
• It was sick and disgusting, but it was the only option I had. And also, I couldn't return home. If he sent me home. Nico would fulfil his promise of chopping off my limbs. And he would also do the same thing these men wanted with me.
• “Please, do what you want with me, d-don’t send me back to…” My mouth froze on his name, I allowed myself to consider my choices for one last second. Then my shoulders slumped with defeat.
• “Don't send me back to Nicholas Piccolo!”