You Can Run But...

Disclaimer: This book contains scenes that may depict, mention, or discuss abuse. Reader discretion advised.

"Damon, please, I beg of you, let me go," she cried as he pulled her with his tie, which he used to bind her hands. 

Damon looked at her eerily, causing her to shiver within her. She tried to read his eyes, but like his conscience, they were all blank. 

He left her and walked to the bedside table in the room. Maya felt frightened as she wondered where he had gone and what he would do with her. When he came back, he was holding a pair of scissors. 

"I love it when you beg me," he muttered, snipping her white dress away, tearing it to pieces, till she was completely naked before him, wearing no undergarment. "Beg me, Maya, beg me!" 

She gulped. 

"You're being disobedient, aren't you?" His lips close to her ear, he whispered, "I like that too." He dug his fingers into her bum. "Now, I have every reason to do what I've always wanted to do to you. Maya..." 

***SOME MONTHS EARLIER***

Maya walked into the room, completely tired from work. Being a journalist had its fair share of risks, and that day was quite eventful; it was a miracle a stray bullet didn't slash her due to the coalition of criminals and the police. 

Hearing footsteps stroll in, Maya raised her head to see her sister stopping right in front of her, her shoulders raised high and that defiance at her upper lips.

She would have that confidence, too, if she were the favorite of Alfredo and his wife. Well, AKA her parents.

Filthy rich, and not only that, the fifth in rank to the Don of Sicily, the wealth was enough to go around without each daughter feeling left out, but it was either her creator hated her, or something was wrong with her stars.

Right now, her sister looked like she was about to be summoned by satan, and knowing Ana, that was her hobby, delivering bad news to her, "Maya's father calls for you." 

"Why?"

"Well, he didn't tell me, but there's dinner; he wants to talk to all of us over dinner." 

Maya looked at her suspiciously, knowing Ana was lying through her teeth, the bitch knew why the monster wanted her, and seeing the glint in her eyes, it wasn't good.

"I'll be there in a minute," she sighed finally.

"Be fast about it," Anna said as she walked away. "There will be a visitor soon, and Dad wants to be done with the conversation before he comes in." When she was at the exit, she added with a mocking tone, "Don't forget to take your bath also, Maya. You stink." 

As she watched her sister leave, Maya became scared. The last time her father had called her was six years ago when she had slapped Anna because she had disgraced her in front of a whole crowd.

Not to forget, she was locked in like one of his goons who had broken a rule.

But since it was over dinner, maybe it wasn't so bad. 

Being the second daughter and child of Alfredo Petra, she was always on the defensive. 

She got into the bathroom and took a quick shower, then made do with a light gown.

Maya strolled to the dining room, where her family sat around the table. She stood beside an empty seat, waiting for him to scream at her. 

She wondered what she'd done this time. As far as she knew, she was successful in avoiding him and staying clear of his part. She guessed that wasn't enough. 

"Sit down, Maya; let's have dinner," his tone was soft, yet it knocked her out.

She looked up at him sharply. Did he use that soft tone on her? She couldn't believe it. Was she dreaming? 

Still standing and wondering if she heard well, her mother repeated, "Take your seat, child. Your food might get cold."

Her bones stiffened. 

But she did sit down, and her food was served to her by a maid. The seat opposite her was empty. Her father sat at the head of the table, while Anna, who was opposite their mother and still sizing her up, was close to their father, holding his hand. 

Maya noticed that the older man looked frail and sick. He also looked worried. 

When they began eating, Maya watched them, unsure of what to do. She wasn't comfortable within her own family, and it showed. 

Her mother noticing, enquired, "Why don't you eat your food, Maya?"

"Maybe she thinks we poisoned it,"

She so wanted to glare at her elder sister; how could someone be so childish and evil simultaneously?!

"No, no," she cut, "I don't think it was poisoned. I'll never think of that, Mother." 

"Then eat your food." 

Quickly she began piling the food in her mouth and still not tasting anything. 

Her father cleared his throat. "I know you're wondering why I called for you," he paused, letting a lengthy silence fester.

Then he shut his eyes, "I want to know if you can make a sacrifice for your family." 

"I don't understand, father."

In a flash, his face turned red, so she quickly added, so he wouldn't hurt her like he always did, "Yes, I can, Father. I can make a sacrifice for my family."

"No matter how big?" He prodded. 

Maya wasn't comfortable with where all of this was going, but still, she answered, "No matter how big, Father."

He nodded then, and from a briefcase at his side, he brought out a piece of paper and handed her a pen, "Sign this," and he gave her the papers.

This time she had to ask, "What is this?" 

"This will be the proof of your love for your family," he broke eye contact with her and looked out of the window before he began to explain, "Anna found the reports on Cosa Nostra you've been working on." 

Her heart beat loudly against her chest. The project on the Cosa Nostra was a personal one; it wasn't supposed to be seen by anybody. What had Anna been doing in her room to bump into the papers it had been on? Maya hoped nobody else had found out.

"And she sent it to the police for a small bounty." 

She gasped. 

She was shattered. 

No matter how badly her sister treated her, she wouldn't wish her that. 

She looked at her father. Weren't they making a big mistake by keeping Ana here instead of hiding her somewhere far away from all of the danger that was sure to come? 

"Luckily, Don had an insider who got the papers, so it's safe. But the Don..." His breath went shaky. "He wants something in return if we want to keep our lives."

"What's that, father?" She asked. As far as she knew, she was ready to do anything to help her family. 

If he wanted her to go to the public and tell them everything she wrote on that paper was a lie, maybe with that, she could even earn her parents' love: "What do I have to do, father?" 

He gazed at her as he ordered her doom, "In place of your sister, you must agree with whatever Don Damon says. Make him believe you committed the crime."

The shock stuck in her throat.