Page 3 of Blood and Beauty (Owned by The Don)

I can't hold it back, the rage. It's an ugly monster rearing its head and rushing out after twenty years of this bullshit. Of her bullshit.

"WHAT!?"

I push her back against the kitchen wall, slapping at her like a mad woman, knocking down the calendar behind her.

She's defenseless and drunk, a shit opponent to say the least, which works well in my favor because I'm about to kill this bitch. I'm about to beat the life out of my mother because she just confessed to ruining mine. Once. Again.

"Esmeralda May! You're assaulting your own mother!"

She sounds lifeless to me, her voice a void of no emotion. I'm shaking and crying and screaming and slapping. I want to kill her. I want to die. I want it all.

This was my last year. My last trip back home to her. My last stop before I sailed away to a life without her, towards a life with peace.

I should've known it was too good. There's no escaping this monster, this plague of a mother that God punished me with.

I'm about thirty slaps in when we hear a sudden pounding on the front door, stopping both me from hitting and her from screaming.

I release her and she runs to the door, letting me fall to my knees in despair. I am about to lay my head into my hands when I hear her scream again.

Two large men in black suits and sunglasses are in the living room, their hands holding my now unconscious mother.

I back away slowly, my heels tripping over one another. I'm on a rollercoaster of emotions that started with anger and have now led me down the path of fear in its purest form.

The men have a powerful air around them. They practically ooze fear itself and I'm praying to God to both save me and not let me piss myself.

I bolt for the back door, but only make it five steps before something hits my head and everything goes dark.

2

Esmeralda

My head is throbbing,and my stomach feels full of lead. I can't bring my eyes to open. The pain is too strong, and I think I may vomit.

Open your eyes, Esmeralda.

I hear a voice and it feels like chocolate. Can a voice do that? Can a voice evenfeelsmooth?

As much pain and confusion as I am in, I want to find the source of the voice. I want to crawl into it and let it wrap around me. It sounds warm and deep, comforting in a time where the last thing I should feel is comfort.

I slowly lift my lids and let my eyes adjust to the light and room around me.

I'm in a board room. A fucking board room? There are two expensive leather couches seated across from one another in front of a large, stone fireplace. The heat of the flames lick my skin and I still shiver.

I look around the large room and spot a large, expensive looking desk. The wood looks rich and the leather chair behind it looks genuine, I think I can even smell it. It smells deep and spicy, even luxurious. When have I ever smelled luxury before?

I hear a grunt to my right and realize my mother is next to me, sitting with her hands tied behind her back. The sight of her makes me aware that we are both fully bound with rope and gagged with cloth.

I know better than to scream at this moment, I know we're in trouble and somehow I know that it's Cristina Ellen May, my piece of shit mother's fault.

She starts to flail and whine, pissing off the two guards that stand before us. I refuse to lift my eyes to theirs, and I sink further into the floor and stare at the burgundy, ornate rug beneath me.

It is when I decide to shrink into myself, that I hear the clicking sounds of leather shoes against the hardwood floor. I see them walking towards us and they, too, look expensive.

The shoes stop right in front of me, and I will my body to not shake in fear or move in any way. I realize now that I am a mouse trapped in a lion's den and if I make a sudden movement, I could very well die.

The shoe creeps toward me and the tip of it touches my chin, lifting it up to look at the man occupying it. Though I am gagged, I am left speechless.

The man before me was like a giant demigod, or I guess in this case, the devil.

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