You can't SAY happiness without SAYING penis. (You're welcome.)

Calla's POV:

Apparently, stabbing someone with a pair of stilettos is heavily frowned upon.

Illeya locked me in a small, dark room that looked like a fucking prison cell. Telling me that he would let me out when I learned to control my "temper".

That was 9 days ago.

At first, I continued up with my clever responses. I made fun of anyone who walked into this jail cell and continued fucking with them. But now, I was completely out of comical material, and I just felt like closing my eyes and pretending like this was all one big nightmare.

I haven't cried yet, because I have been doing everything in my power not to think about Sinister.

I curled up under the scratchy blankets of the cot, and for some reason, I liked this room better than the other one.

It was real. It wasn't some duplicate of my childhood home.

I was refusing food, the only person I would ever talk to was Sebastian, I was sad. I wanted Sinister to hold me, to tell me everything was going to be okay. To smile at me, and make my dark world bright.

It's so hard to explain the things going on inside your head, when even you don't understand.

I feel like I have lost myself completely.

The door to the room creaked open, and Steffen walked in.

I didn't even move, I just lay there, wearing the same tattered white dress from 9 fucking days ago.

His dark red hair was slicked back, and he still wore a crisp polo shirt that made me want to gouge my eyes out.

He sat at the foot of the bed and smiled at me.

He fucking smiled at me.

"Hi Calla, how are you doing?" He asked softly.

I didn't say anything. I felt like I might throw up if I even opened my mouth.

We were silent for a few minutes.

"You know" he smiled "I like you like this, quite, and tame. If it weren't for that smelly dress and disgusting little ring on your finger, I'd say you're back to your sweet little self."

No.

I glanced down at the ring on my finger, tears stung my dry eyes, and I pulled my hand into my chest, holding the ring tightly to my body.

"You're never going to see him again, Calla. There's nothing you can do about it. Do not be a prisoner to things you cannot change, just let it go."

I will never let Sinister go.

He raised a pale finger and pointed to my ring, "that ring is just a reminder of something you'll never have. Give it to me."

My breathing quickened, no, I pulled the ring closer to my chest.

The bed creaked as his tall frame stood , and leaned over me. He was so close I could smell the toxic scent of his cologne.

"Give it to me, Calla. Now."

I shook my head, feeling a hot tear fall down my cheek.

He reached out, pulling at my arm, trying to yank the ring off my finger, and I screamed.

I held the ring so tight to my body, that when he pulled at my arm, I flew across the room, my entire body slamming against the concrete wall.

I screamed as I made contact with the cement, my entire body shaking, and black formed over my vision. My head ached, it felt like falling back on a thousand thumbtacks.

His eyes turned black as he took a stride towards me, pulling me off the ground completely, and slamming my body with all of his force against the wall.

"Give me the fucking ring Calla!" He roared.

I shook my head, sobbing, begging him not to take it from me.

It's the only part of Sinister I have left.

He gripped my jaw with one hand, the other was pinning my body against the wall.

Tears streamed down my face and I cried, pleading with him not to take it. I screamed hysterically, gripping the diamond ring to me like my life depended on it.

He pulled my head away from the wall, and then slammed it back, and my entire world almost went completely black.

I felt the stitches on the back of my head tear open, new wounds opened, and I felt the blood pouring out of my head.

I stopped struggling, the searing pain I felt was too much to fight against.

He ripped my arm away from my body, and pulled the diamond ring off my finger, throwing my body to the ground.

I sniffed, crying because I was in pain, crying because a man I hate took the only thing I had left.

I gave up.

"There" he huffed "that's much better."

He leaned down, pressing his slimy lips to mine and whispered to me

"I love you, Calla,"

With that, he left me. Black dots spotted all across my vision, until I couldn't see. I couldn't hear myself screaming, everything inside of me was numb.

God, when I lose hope, help me to remember that your love is greater than my pain. When I'm screaming on the floor, sobbing, God, please let me know that your plans for my life are better than any dream I've ever had.

Please give me the strength to get through this. I've never been religious, but God, if this is your plan for me...what did I do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve this pain?

I curled into a ball on the floor of the cell, sobbing, wishing that this was all some cruel nightmare. Wishing this was some sort of sick joke, and that sinister was waiting for me at home.

But it wasn't, and the worst thing was, I couldn't even fight back.

I had already given up.

***

Afanas's POV:

Slater's group had returned from Barbados empty handed. It was written all over his face when he walked into the throne room, his head hung low, his hands were folded behind his back.

"FUCK!" Sinister roared, pacing the room, pushing over chairs and tables in his rage.

I stood off to the side, staying silent. I hated seeing him like this, he was a mess. He hadn't been sleeping, he hadn't been eating. All he had been doing was putting every ounce of energy he had into tracking down Illeya. Well, that, and smoking a shit ton of weed.

He threw himself into a chair, holding his face in his hands. His breathing was sharp and heavy.

I walked to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was fucking shaking, the rings on his fingers clattered together.

"You guys need to get the fuck out of here..." He said lowly.

I glanced at Slater

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Sinister roared.

I sighed, motioning for Slater to leave as I followed him out of the room, closing the door to the dark room behind me.

Slater breathed out a heavy breath, shaking his head and walked away.

It sucked to see someone you care about in so much pain. It hurt even more to imagine Calla with those creeps. She was such a sweet person, true, she might be clinically insane, but she was kind hearted."

"Afanas!" A familiar chirpy voice said.

I sighed, turning to see a leggy brunette sauntering over to me.

"Have they found Calla yet?" Carly asked, her big brown eyes looking genuinely concerned.

I shook my head.

Her face fell, "is there anything I can do?"

"No" I shrugged "we're already doing everything we can."

I slid past her, walking down the hall, hoping that our conversation would end at that. It wasn't that I didn't like her, I liked her plenty. It was just that I couldn't have the same thing that's happening to Calla repeat with Carly. I couldn't ruin Carly's life.

She ran to catch up with me, "How's Sinister holding up?"

I glanced at her as I kept walking, "what do you think? The only thing he ever let his heart love, has been taken away from him."

I picked up the pace, turning into the living room of the compound. I hoped my message was clear, I couldn't have any part of her.

Men like me don't deserve to love.

"Afanas!" She yelled after me.

I groaned and turned to face her, "what?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, "what the fuck has been up with you lately? I thought we had something good going, but now..." Her voice trailed off.

she glared up at me with her big brown eyes and I felt like melting.

"This" I motioned between us "is bad news. It'll only end badly for you."

She laughed, "I'm not Calla. I'm not some poor innocent girl that was picked off the streets, I'm apart of the Mafia. I joined by choice, not force."

Carly was a dancer at one of Sinisters clubs, we brought her in to be a private dancer at a Russian event at the compound a few weeks ago, and it seemed like all of the men took a liking to her. We kept her around, because she gave good lap dances, and rolled even better joints.

Short story, once I met her, and she gave me a lap dance, I made sure no man even looked at her again.

I sighed, pressing my hands to the sides of her face, "I know Carly, I know you're different. I just don't want anything to happen to you, I don't want you to get hurt like Calla."

She leaned in wrapping her arms around me, "it won't happen to me, I'm not as strong as calla, I could never handle what she's going through."

I felt my heart dip at thinking about that little Russian girl. I considered her my friend now, and I would do everything I could to get her back. Not just for me, but for the sake of my best friends sanity.

We need to get Calla back, before she loses herself completely.

***

I feel like crying for Calla ;(((