Page 45 of Monstrous Grave

A heavy weight settles in my stomach, pressing on my lungs until it feels as if they will cave in and I’ll never recover again. This is it, I think. This is the moment all of the pain from the past and present will catch up with me until there’s nothing left of me but burnt ashes fluttering in the wind.

Mr. Grimaldi’s gaze reveals the cruel intent behind this encounter—how he relishes in my suffering, whether through words or actions. But unlike before, he never touched me, only inflicting mental abuse.

“They’ve been betraying you, feeding us their secrets. Did you truly believe it was that easy? That I wouldn’t have the foresight to tighten our security?” His voice drips with disdain.

All blood drains my face, and I fight to conceal the turmoil raging within when all I want to do is crumble apart.

“They’re too greedy for power. And you were the price. I can’t wait to fucking break you again. You thought you escaped, you little shit. But I won’t let you get away again. You’re mine to do with whatever I please, and you’re going to obey your father,” he spits in my face, and I can’t hide the disgust evident in my expression.

“Fucking break me! You think I haven’t been broken before? You think I haven’t felt the abandonment? I don’t fucking care anymore,” I retort, truth lacing my words.

After dedicating years to seeking revenge, there’s nothing left to lose. Taking down the Grimaldis was my last goal, and even if he breaks me, I will not crumble. I’ll find a way to get back at them.

“Shut up,” he growls, backhanding me once more.

Before I can react, I’m hauled to my feet, the chains biting into my flesh. A loud gasp escapes me from the pain, and my foster father grumbles in annoyance, unshackling the chains. I stumble, my legs unable to keep me upright, but he doesn’t care.

I steal a glance at the woman in the room, her eyes filled with pity and worry as she watches me being dragged away.

My heart pounds vividly inside my chest as I’m led out of the room into the stone stairwell. Dread twists in my stomach, nausea churning within when I see exactly where we are.

The Grimaldi base.

Memories assault my senses that I have a hard time containing, pain rippling through every being of me until I can scarcely draw breath. I look around in terror, the walls of this place a reminder of the horror I endured, once believing in the love of a foster family who ultimately betrayed me.

I was pathetic.

Entering my foster father’s office, I’m pushed against his desk, stripped of dignity as my shirt is torn away. Humiliation mingles with fear as I struggle to suppress tears, clinging to whatever composure I can muster against his cruelty.

“We’ll have quite the time together, daughter. I’ll love watching you break.”

Fear grips me like a vise, suffocating me as memories threaten to pull me under into a swirling abyss of despair. It was here I endured countless reprimands and reminders of being a mere pawn in a game made and ruled by men.

Here, I found out about my foster brother’s death.

I hear my foster father grab something from a shelf before he draws closer. His associates eye me with greed, their intentions evident.

Without forewarning, the first blow lands on my back, searing pain erupting through me and forcing a scream from my lips—giving them exactly what they want. The whip cracks through the air, lashing out like poison and igniting a wildfire across my shoulder blades. I bite down hard on my tongue, tasting blood and metal.

Again and again, the whip descends upon my back, each strike tearing through flesh and bone with merciless precision. My foster father’s words cut deeper, slicing through the fragile walls I built around my heart. “No one has ever wanted you. Fucking no one.”

Every part of me aches—my heart, my back, my soul. I wish I wasn’t affected by his words.

Beaten within an inch of my life, I’m dragged back to the basement, meeting the eyes of the unknown woman. They’re full of worry again, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

They don’t bother chaining me again, knowing I’m too goddamn weak to try to escape.

——————

Days pass, marked only by the woman’s daily trips upstairs when she’s allowed to shower. Today is the fourth day of my imprisonment here, enduring relentless torture at the hands of my foster father, Peter Grimaldi. They chained me again two days ago.

My eyes throb painfully, and every movement sends a wave of agony that threatens to make me faint. Everything hurts, and my vision is hazy as I slump against the floor, avoiding putting pressure on my back. Yet, there’s only one thought crossing my mind—I have to escape because no one else will help me.

Glancing at the woman as she sleeps, her troubled breathing betrays the nightmares she must have.

Throughout the days we’ve spoken, I’ve learned that she’s been captivated for over a month, taken as collateral for a debt owed to the Grimaldi family, but little else. There’s a determination inside her—one I recognize in myself. It reveals she wants to survive and fight despite the horrors I glimpse etched into her eyes, like scars on her soul.

Yesterday, she told me that Saturdays are when Peter Grimaldi leaves the mansion to gamble at the Ivanovas’, leaving only the associates to watch out for us. A plan has formed in my mind, one that will either fail or succeed. At this point, it doesn’t matter.

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