"I am merely a performer. I am not a whore or an object to satisfy your desires," tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. "I don't care," he retorted callously. "Fuck you," she spat, her voice trembling with anger and defiance. "That was precisely my intention, Ms. Ferrari," he smirked, his eyes filled with an unholy desire. **** "Take off your clothes." Her eyes widened in shock, and instinctively, she acted on her first impulse-running towards the door. But before she could reach the lock, a strong, muscular hand stopped her efforts. She struggled to remove his hand, but her attempts proved futile. Shaking her head in defiance, she refused his demeaning command. She would accept any condition he set forth at that moment, but stripping in front of him was a line she wouldn't cross. She felt his breath on her exposed neck, his orders and demands devoid of any semblance of humanity. In an instant, her body was forcefully thrown onto the nearby couch as he loomed over her petite figure, his hands planted firmly on either side of her head, his expression deadly. "If you can't comply, I can always call my guards to do it for you. Shall I?" he hissed, his words venomous. She wished for a natural disaster to befall her, to erase her existence from his presence. The hand on her right side retreated as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Her eyes widened, realizing that he was a man of his word. No one should dare to play with fire when they were unaware of the consequences. She wriggled beneath him, emitting a raspy cry. Before he could make the call, she blurted out her answer. "I'll do it." Story of a don and a professional dancer. A tale of betrayal, love-hate, obsession, deception, blood, darksouls, forbidden desire, redemption and togetherness.
Chapter 1 1
The celestial expanse stretched above, cloaked in a veil of tar-black hues, as if a painter's brush had traced the heavens with the ink of night. Swirling masses of clouds danced with restless anticipation, aware of the forthcoming events planned for the day. At first, a mere whisper escaped the air, a gentle murmur that heralded the approaching tempest. Then, a huffing wind surged forth, stirring the vibrant leaves of the trees, their rustling adding a melodious cadence to the growing symphony of nature.
A delicate tinkling sound reverberated through the earthly realm, as the initial pearl of rain descended, its descent accompanied by a glassy clinking akin to the lifting of a crystal Champagne flute. As if an invisible hand brushed against the ground, a sheer sheet of rain veiled the land, its watery tendrils reaching out to intensify the symphony that enveloped the surroundings.
Celia Ferrari, a newly anointed adult, stood like a resolute statue amidst the downpour, clad in a black, full-sleeved bodycon dress that gracefully embraced her form from shoulder to ankle. Her ebony orbs were fixated on the grey tombstone adorned with an assortment of fresh flowers, each blossom chosen with utmost care to honor a beloved soul-Francesca Milano. Celia's right hand tenderly cradled her five-month-old baby bump, a nurturing gesture of protection, while her left hand sheltered her delicate frame beneath an umbrella, shielding her from the chilly raindrops that fell unabated. She mourned the loss of her mother, standing before the grave, a somber ritual that had become all too familiar in her tumultuous existence.
Emotions washed over Celia, leaving her devoid of vitality, her body numbed from the trials endured during the past twelve years. This marked the second occasion she had bid farewell to her mother, but this time, the parting was permanent. An overwhelming void engulfed her very being, rendering her acutely aware of the rain, which served as her sole companion in this desolate moment. Tears streamed from her eyes, an unstoppable river cascading down her cheeks, as if a dam had burst, releasing the anguish that had long been confined within her soul.
The first time she had lost her mother occurred a mere month after her father's demise, a heart-wrenching sequence of events that forcibly separated her from her parents, both physically and emotionally. Imprisoned within the clutches of her paternal relatives, she became a captive, their wishes eclipsing her own. Unsurprisingly, she was once again the last to receive the news of her mother's passing.
The world around her grew eerily quiet, a deafening silence that pressed upon her ears, casting a pall of emptiness over her senses and tightening its grip on her breath. A sorrowful sob escaped her lips, heralding the onset of a blur, a state in which she lost all sense of time and direction. She found herself caught in an unending cycle, battling the same demons repeatedly, only to succumb to their relentless onslaught. With her shoulders hunched in resignation, she was serenaded by the bittersweet melodies of memories-moments of beauty shared with her late parents, now forever consigned to the realm of the past.
In a hushed, trembling voice, she voiced her despair, questioning the divine forces that governed the universe. "After enduring countless tribulations, did God not deem me worthy of respite? Does the cosmos possess an all-seeing entity, yet refuse to extend a helping hand? Why did pity elude me? It is a twisted, perverse existence," she murmured softly, as if confiding her grievances to the ephemeral winds.
"What fault is mine? I am more obedient than the most devoted hound, adhering to the expectations thrust upon me by all," she lamented, a tinge of bitterness permeating her words.
Amidst her murmurs and entreaties to God and her departed mother, she finally departed the graveyard, paying her respects to her father's resting place. An enigmatic figure awaited her return, a man she was obligated to entertain within the walls that scarcely resembled a home.
Little did she know that venturing back into that abyss would only bring further chaos and turmoil to her already tumultuous existence. Little did she know that she was about to lose someone dear to her once again, a loss that would reverberate through her very core, threatening to rob her of her identity. In this moment, as the rain continued its relentless descent, the future prepared to inscribe the unwritten history of Celia Ferrari.
Chapter 1 1
14/07/2023