Page 192 of Born in Depravity

CATALINA

I woke up on a dirty,thin mattress on the floor, one of my hands chained to the wall over my head. At least the chain was long, and I could somewhat move around.

A small headache was already starting to form in the back of my head.

Across from me, there was a bucket that I didn’t want to know the purpose of.

I was still in my red dress.

Goosebumps rose across my skin as I took in the chilly, damp room. There were three windows in the small room, but two of them were boarded up. The third window was small and I doubted I would fit through even if I wasn’t chained to the wall.

Two doors stood on opposite sides of each other. I didn’t know where they led to, but I was sure one was to my freedom.

The light was on, but thankfully, it wasn’t too bright. I was already feeling nauseated and would have made good use of that bucket, though I doubted that was its purpose.

I blinked and took in my surroundings.

How the hell was I supposed to get out of this alive?

Father would kill me for sure, but the question was, what would he do to me beforehand?

I rubbed my hands over my arms, trying to ward off the chill. I wished I had thought of grabbing a sweater.

Being cold should be the last thing on my mind, considering my situation. How would my men find me?

I was going to die without getting the chance to tell them how I felt.

I was going to die and what I was thinking about now was a sweater?

Clearly I had my priorities straight, I thought sardonically.

A small chuckle escaped my lips from the thought, before I clamped my mouth shut, wincing a little when I felt a small pain on my cheek. No doubt I would bruise there.

I was really losing it now.

I had bigger things to worry about.

Ignoring the big stain on the corner of the mattress, I lay down and curled my arms around my body, trying to ward off the cold.

I didn’t know how long I was kept in the room, but eventually the door clicked open. My heart sped up and I sat up and slid to the far corner of the mattress, watching as a man came inside.

My mouth felt dry and the urge to vomit was back, but then I caught sight of familiar brown eyes.

I let out a small cry and tried to rush over to him, only to be held back by the chain. He quickly came up to me.

Roberto.

I didn’t think.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, crying as I buried my face in his chest. I didn’t know what he was doing here, but it was better than seeing my father.

“It’s okay, Miss,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

No, it wasn’t okay, but seeing him here was so comforting, I—

I couldn’t breathe.

He pulled away, his eyes widening in panic.

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