⚠️Warning this chapter contains mentions of sexual assault and severe anxiety, please read with caution ⚠️

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~ Daniela's POV ~

Pain.

That's all I could feel.

My head hurt, my eyes were sore, my entire body felt cold, it felt like there was some kind of being in my uterus trying to claw itself out.

Everything hurt.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like death."

"You keep saying that."

"Because you keeping asking." Carson let out a chuckle as he finally sat up, finishing the set of sit ups that he was doing.

This guy can have full blown conversations while he's in the middle of working out, yet, when I workout I'm a mess.

"How long does this usually last? I'm tired of your mood now."

Well.

It had been two days since I told Carson about my parents and yesterday I had finally started my period. That meant I was in the worst mood possible which seemed to be annoying my roomie a lot more than I'd expected it to.

Even still, he continued to rub my stomach or hold me in his arms whenever I needed it.

"Only a few days but maybe it would be over faster if I didn't have you irritating the hell out of me."

"Wasn't it just a couple of days ago that you were begging me to talk to you?"

I didn't need to look at him to know he was smirking at me, I could hear it in his tone. Of course it just flared my uncontrollable temper.

"Wasn't it just a couple of days ago when you told me you would kill me if I spoke to you?"

When it fell quiet I turned my head to look at Carson who was now glaring at me with piercing eyes, clenching his jaw. Before I could even try to apologise, he just shook his head, going straight back to his sit ups instead of paying me any more attention.

Even though we didn't get on at the start, now we were all each other had in that room and I just messed that up.

Hey at least the anger will push him to work out harder.

A while passed while he continued to do his sit ups, push ups and many other exercises too. I guess since George wasn't here and his body was healing well, he was taking the opportunity to work out before he was back to sleeping to recover from all the beatings.

It was only when he'd finally taken a shower that he eventually spoke to me again, not that I tried to speak to him though.

I'm a little stubborn sometimes and my period didn't help either.

"Are you done?"

"Done with what?"

"Taking your bad mood out on me." I couldn't tell whether he was angry about what I said or if he was just annoyed, but I could tell he was trying to control his temper.

I guess we didn't need both of us throwing tantrums at the same time.

So, deciding to swallow my pride and all the unexplainable rage that was always a symptom of my period, I nodded my head in response to his question.

He seemed satisfied with my answer, nodding his head before he turned to walk to the chair across the room.

"Can you come and warm me up now?"

When he heard my voice, he stopped in his tracks before slowly turning to face me, raising one of his perfect eyebrows.

How is it fair that I have to go through all the pain to get them plucked or threaded and this guy has naturally perfect eyebrows? And don't even get me started on his skin.

I knew he was still not over our little spat from earlier, but without a word he came over to where I was lying on the bed, getting in next to me.

"Are you using me just for my body Daniela?" The lightness and amusement in his tone caused a smile to tug at my lips while I moved into his arms allowing him to place his hand back on my lower stomach.

It was quiet for a moment between us before I glanced up at him.

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"You know what for." My words came out in a grumble causing him to let out a laugh. "It's okay, don't worry about it."

"No it's not, I shouldn't have taken it out on you, it's just...I've always had really bad periods and I guess usually there's no one around to bother me and now you're here so you're the one who has to suffer and-"

"Daniela you're rambling."

"Oh. Sorry." Once again all he did was laugh, clearly finding some kind of enjoyment in my embarrassment, first at how I'd acted and now with my overly long apology.

We lay there for a little while longer, neither of us saying a word while I just rested, still continuing to work through the pain.

"Are you in a bad mood?" When I broke the silence around us Carson turned his head to look at me, shaking his head. "No, why?"

"I'm bored, I thought maybe we could talk about something."

"Like what?" I could tell he was suspicious as if he expected me to come up with some really personal question that had been on my mind. "I don't know, anything. What's your favourite place?"

When I said the first thing that came to my mind he gave me a frown. "My favourite place?"

"Yeah, it can be anywhere - your home, a place from your past, a vacation destination. Anything."

Taking a moment he let out a breath thinking over his answer.

"I think it would be my mom's house. She loves cooking so it always smells good there, like home."

His answer managed to bring a smile to my face when I thought about how similar our answers were, even though mine technically doesn't exist anymore. "What's yours?"

"The same thing - my parents house." Sure the building was still there and everything was still inside, but it didn't have the life inside that it used to. That's what I missed; that was my favourite place. "I remember whenever I used to just walk through the front door, I'd feel this sense of peace. It was the only place I ever truly felt safe."

"The only place?" When he gave me a frown, I should have known he'd pick up on the smallest details of what I said. But I didn't know if I was ready to tell him the truth about why I didn't feel safe anywhere else, we were only just starting to talk more. I didn't want to ruin it.

"So where do you live?" When I changed the subject he rose an eyebrow at me. "Me?"

"No, I'm talking to the guard outside our room." When he heard my sarcastic response he let out a chuckle. "I have three homes."

"Three?" When my eyes widened he just nodded his head. I couldn't even imagine having one place that I called home right now in my life, never mind three. "Where are they?"

"New York, Los Angeles and Miami."

"So you prefer hot places then? Two of those have beaches and stuff." Carson nodded his head at this, keeping his eyes focused on the ceiling as he spoke. "I don't like the cold. I try to avoid it as much as I can, there's just something about it."

Tough for him because this room is freaking freezing, honestly it felt like someone was stabbing my skin with sharp icicles.

"But New York gets really cold in winter."

"When it does I try to use that time for vacations or I just take my family to LA or Miami. I just work from there for a few days if it's snowing in New York or something."

Nodding my head at this, I let my mind drift back to what he said about his job. So he's a business man, and by the sounds of his life, an extremely successful one. It's not surprising then that he can afford to work from home or leave people to deal with things alone.

"How about you?" When I turned my head to look at him with a frown he elaborated on his question. "Hot or cold?"

I've never been on vacation. Ayden used to go, but he used to take other girls with him and I never went with my parents since we couldn't afford it. But of course I wasn't going to tell him that particular truth.

"Hot." I've always wanted to go to a beach, that's definitely something I would put on my bucket list, if I ever get out of this place.

Carson only nodded his head at this as we lay there while he probably thought about all the vacations he'd been on.

"So what do you do in your spare time when you're not busy working or being irritating?"

When I heard his little dig at the end of his question I turned my head to look at him noticing the small smile he gave me.

"I don't know, being irritating is a full time kind of thing." When I flashed him a smile of my own he let out a laugh. "I don't know, I love reading, watching movies. I try to work out a few times a week but I don't really enjoy that."

"You don't?"

"No, I hate it. My boyfriend has a gym in his apartment and whenever I go in there I just feel depressed. Think about it like this, why would you want to work out when you can sit and eat some chocolate and watch a movie?"

My words caused him to crack a smile while he shook his head. "They're not the same thing. Working out makes you feel better, you can expel your anger and frustration and clear your head in a healthy way."

"Well I think science would disagree with you. Both working out and eating chocolate release endorphins, so in the end you get the same results." When he let out a laugh he turned his head to look at me. "One will put you in good shape, the other will make you fat. I don't think they're the same results."

He had a good point I guess.

"Well it's probably a good thing that I do both then."

After that conversation ended the pain very quickly came back again it fell silent between and at least a few hours could have gone by when suddenly the door to our room opened, revealing the same guy who Carson punched the other day.

Yesterday I'd learned that his name was Mark.

He didn't really look like a Mark to me, he seemed more like a Sean or a Simon.

"Isn't this cute? Too bad we have to break this up. Get up Princess."

When his eyes met mine, I sat up in the bed while Carson stood up, probably attempting to use his height and build to intimidate the guy.

"She's not going anywhere with you."

"It's not up to you Agnello, now get up before I make you and trust me sweetheart, I won't be gentle."

This time when Mark's eyes met mine, he gave me a sinister glare causing me to shrink back into the bed. Noticing the look he gave me, Carson stepped towards Mark, who suddenly stepped aside in the doorway before he gestured to some men who must have been next to him to come in to our room.

At least he brought back up this time.

Before Carson could do anything, a number of them had him cornered across the room and of course, he tried to fight his way out, but they were well prepared for him.

Of course they would have come prepared, all they had to do was look at Mark's bruised jaw and busted lip to know what Carson was capable of in a matter of seconds. Not to mention the poor guy's nose he broke on our first day here.

I hadn't seen him since.

While Carson was busy trying to fight the men off, Mark came over to the bed, reaching out to grab me. I let out a shriek when he suddenly grabbed me by my wrists, lifting me up and off the bed, setting me down on the floor.

"Get your hands off her!"

Ignoring Carson's shout, Mark pretty much dragged me out of the room and down the hallway. Moments later I heard the door slam shut as the men left Carson in the room alone.

This was the first time we'd been split up since we'd been here.

To say I was terrified would definitely be an understatement.

"Come on." He didn't bother to look at me as he dragged me down the hallway, passing the usual room we went to and instead we went up a set of stairs, taking us into what seemed like a normal house.

Apart from the fact that this house was absolutely huge.

"Where are we going?" As much as I would have liked an answer, my reason for asking this question was only because it seemed like the average reaction of a girl being dragged around an unfamiliar place.

"Shut up." Instead of replying with a sassy comeback, I was too busy trying to look around as much as I could.

Maybe it was useless, but it seemed like one of the only opportunities I would ever get to learn more about where they were keeping Carson and I. If we ever did get out, having some kind of knowledge of the place would be useful.

Mark was too busy trying to get me to go up another set of stairs with him to realise that I had been trying to make a mental note of my surroundings.

Of course I didn't get much, but from what I could tell of the building it was old, like extremely old. It had this country vibe to it with wooden interior everywhere. From what I could see through the few windows that we'd passed there were just trees everywhere.

If I had to guess it was a cabin in the country or the woods somewhere, but I could be wrong.

But, one thing I was absolutely sure of was that the rest of this entire building was nice and warm. The only cold room was the one Carson and I were in and I'm sure that wasn't just a coincidence.

Finally once we reached the first floor, Mark led me to a room which turned out to be a bedroom.

"Put that on." As soon as we got into the room, he shut the door and pointed to a dress lying on the bed.

"What?"

"Put the dress on." When he gave me a glare, I turned around to look at the dress. As I stepped closer to it, the details of the dress became much clearer to me and soon, dread began to fill that empty pit in my stomach.

It was a tiny black dress with white lace along the edges of the dress at the bottom and a low cut neckline.

"I don't think it's my size."

It looked tiny.

"I guess we'll find out." Finally when he spoke again, I turned to face him. "If you want me to put it on, get out."

My words caused him to let out a dark chuckle as he shook his head, leaning against the wall by the door.

"I'm not going anywhere sweetheart. Now, take those clothes off and put the dress on before I do it for you."

As much as I didn't want to, and I really really didn't want to, I knew he was serious. All I had to do was go back to the events in the room when he gave me one warning before pretty much grabbing me and pulling me out of the bed.

Letting out a nervous breath I turned back around towards the dress, holding the thin material of the lace between my fingers which soon became a white blur as hot tears burned in my eyes.

Some men must have this sick desire to completely and utterly humiliate a woman, I'd seen it in Ayden, I'd seen it in Atticus and now I was seeing it in Mark.

Well I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of breaking me.

Taking a deep breath, I blinked back the tears before I took off my T-shirt, revealing the skin of my bare back to him.

One thing I noticed about Carson was that he never ever looked at my chest. Not even once have I ever caught him staring at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. Even when we lay in that tiny bed together his hands only remained on my waist, never too low or too high.

Picking up the flimsy dress, I pulled it over my head, pulling the tight, clingy material down over my body before I took off my shorts from underneath the dress. At least I was smart enough not to show him absolutely everything if I could help it.

Once I'd fluffed my hair, trying to use as much of it as I could to cover my cleavage, I turned to face him again, noticing the darkened, lustful look on his face as he stared at me.

"Good, now put some of this on your face." As he said this, he picked up a small make up pouch, tossing it over to me.

Without arguing with him, I just sat down at the small dressing table, taking out whatever make up items were in the pouch. Applying the make up came naturally to me, it was always something I enjoyed doing, but I got much better at hiding dark circles under my eyes and even bruises sometimes once I met Ayden.

He wasn't always super careful about avoiding my face when he was drunk or just too angry to care.

Once I'd finally finished, I looked so much different than compared to when I first sat down. My eyes had more life to them, the concealer underneath did well to hide the dark circles from my lack of sleep and hydration and the small dot of highlighter on the inner corners of my eyes added another glow. The blush I used added a healthy flush of colour to my skin that I once had naturally before I was locked up in a freezing cold room for two weeks.

It really had already been two weeks since Carson and I woke up in that van, even though it felt like just yesterday and months ago at the same time.

"Get up, we're going to be late." Letting out a frustrated sigh, I peeled my eyes away from the girl in the mirror and instead faced Mark who had been watching me put on the make up all that time.

"Can you at least tell me what's going on first?"

"You're going to be the entertainer for tonight, the boss has a poker game going on."

The smirk on his face told me he took great satisfaction from telling me what was going to happen to me that night, while I just began to feel nauseous at the thought.

As if my body was an autopilot, I slipped on the heels he gave me before following him downstairs and into a room that we'd already passed earlier.

Stepping into the dimly lit room, the first thing I noticed was that there were six men all sitting around the poker table, each with a glass of what I'm assuming was alcohol, next to them. At the sound of our entry, all heads turned into our direction giving me a chance to analyse each and every man sitting at that table.

They all seemed to be middle aged, so much older than I was. I guess for them, the younger I was, the better and at 21 years old, I was pretty young for them.

As my eyes scanned over their faces, confusion clouded my mind when I didn't see George sitting there with them as I'd expected when Mark said 'the boss has a poker game going on'.

"There she is." My eyes shifted over to one of the men as he stood up from the table, his eyes taking my body in as he came over to me. The second he stopped next to me, the scent of alcohol and strong cologne invaded my senses. The fact I was so nauseous that day didn't help me, at all.

"Your job is to fill each glass before it comes to the end. If they ask you to do something, you do it. You listen to every single demand that is asked of you tonight, do you understand? I'm not like my brother, I won't go easy on you."

Brother?

"You're George's brother?" Maybe it was a stupid time to ask that question, but if you really think about it, when wasn't a stupid time to ask that question?

"My name is Christopher, but you, you can call me daddy." He gave me a smirk as he confirmed the answer to my question, before he pushed me in the direction of the table.

Ignoring their disgusting stares, for the next 45 minutes, I was busy topping up their glasses whenever they asked. A couple of times when I refilled some glasses, I felt hands touch my body maybe along with some suggestive comments.

"Why don't you sit down on my lap baby?" When the guy next to me spoke in a low, husky voice, keeping his hand firmly gripping my ass, my eyes snapped over to Christopher or daddy. This guy was actually old enough to be my father, ironically. When my eyes met his, he looked at me over the glass he was drinking from, giving me a hard look.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped the glass bottle in my hand as I slowly lowered myself down onto his lap. I had to grit my teeth together