Page 17 of Merciless Queen (Moretti Mafia #1)

Harlow

Exhaustion tugged at my bones when I made it back to my room.

Existing was grueling right now since my mind was on constant alert and I was no longer fighting to survive in the hands of a monster.

It felt like my spiraling mental health was a more sinister monster, pulling me deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Here, I had to live with my riotous demons, as they gnawed and consumed me.

With Vincenzo, as mortifying as it was, my mind was silent because I was focused on being in a constant state of panic.

All I wanted to do was sleep, but sleeping meant I dreamed, and my dreams were grueling.

When I walked into my bedroom, I was shocked to see Elizabeth with a bright smile and an assortment of things scattered on my bed. There was also a bottle of wine, I thought, and snacks. What caught my eyes the most were the various canvases and paints. She did this for me?

“I—” Words got caught by a lump in my throat as my brain processed the gifts in front of me. “W-What is this?”

“This—” She directed her hands to everything on the bed, “—is for you. Cat told me how you said you liked painting before everything happened, and she wanted you to have this. It’ll be a great coping skill, too. Do you want to go to school?”

I was still having trouble processing this. “C-Can I? I never finished high school.”

Elizabeth walked toward me, taking my hand and walking me closer to the bed. “Of course you can. We’ll have to work on getting your GED, but after that, you can choose to do whatever you want.”

“I-I’m s-scared.”

Her face dropped. “Why, sweet girl?”

“When things go good for me, so-something bad always happens. B-Before we were taken, I had a date with the girl I liked. When Vincenzo stopped seeing me for t-two weeks, m-my mom died, and he destroyed me. I-I don’t want something bad to happen,” I forced out quickly, stuttering over some of my words.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Here, he can’t get to you.

He can’t control you or do anything that can harm you.

Cat will protect you. I know she can be intense and sometimes a bitch, but she is one of the most powerful people in Chicago, and her allies will protect you, too, if she asks.

Vincenzo has more enemies than he has friends. ”

I bit the inside of my cheek. His friends were sick and deranged.

Some of the men who hurt me would want my head on a stake instead of risking their political and social status, all because they decided to stick their dicks where they didn’t belong.

I was not safe, no matter what they said.

It was only a matter of time. I guessed until then, I could try to be happy and hope that whatever entity was watching over me––if I even had one—would protect me.

Elizabeth brushed my hair back. “I know life feels distant. Reality shouldn’t feel like you're watching everything through water, but it gets better. I won’t say it gets easier, because it’s hard.

It’s going to take a lot when it comes to your healing, but I’ll be there every step of the way. Just don’t give up on me. Okay?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. “Okay.”

“Now, show me those skills with a paintbrush.”

Painting felt natural to me. Even after ten years, my hand glided against the canvas, painting to my heart's desire.

I never thought about what I painted; even my sketches were random.

My favorite mediums were acrylics and watercolor.

I wanted to venture out of my comfort zone and start sculpting and doing fresco, but I felt like I didn't have the talent for it. Now that I was free, maybe I could finally step out of my comfort zone and create things I’d love.

When I was done, I admired the painting.

I had to Google the correct anatomical parts of a heart to make sure they were correct, but the end result was spectacular.

The heart looked realistic and wet with the highlights and texture I created.

The pale pink and white carnations and chrysanthemums make the red tones in the heart pop more.

Elizabeth came back into the room after going to see Luca, and her eyes grew wide.

“Harlow.” She beamed as I fiddled with my fingers, picking the paint off of my skin. “This is beautiful.” Her fingers gently grazed the canvas. “When you said you could paint, I never expected this.”

I gave her a shy smile. “I was the art kid in school, always doodling. Whenever I read a book, I would sketch the characters or the land they were in. It was always an escape. I’m not done, though. I want to add some butterflies, but I’m going to make them textured, so I’m gonna let the paint dry.”

“We can have paint nights. Talent like this shouldn’t be hidden.”

“The art reflects the artist. It’s not going to be pretty.” I dropped my head, looking at my nails.

“But it’ll help tell a story. A story that can help you heal. All art isn’t supposed to be pretty. Art is supposed to make you feel something.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. I am ready for bed, though. It’s been a long day.”

“Go take a shower and we can put on a movie.”

The sound of chains scraping the floor sounded like the sharpest nails on a chalkboard as my eyes darted across the room. He was here, even though I couldn’t see him. He was always here.

There was hoarse laughter echoing off the cement walls. He was waiting for a reaction, but it was always the same regardless of how I reacted. If I was silent, he’d hurt me. If I screamed and begged, he'd hurt me. I learned to keep quiet when he played these wicked games.

“Where are you, princess?”

I covered my mouth with my hand, silencing my heavy breathing so he couldn't find me. I didn’t want to play this game. I just wanted it all to be over. No more screaming or crying. No more listening to the screams of girls. No more nightmares. I hoped tonight was the night he killed me.

“Ahh, there you are.”

Searing pain screamed in my scalp as Vincenzo pulled me from my hiding spot. I knew it was pointless hiding. He’d always find me. My tormentor could always find me.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry.”

“You’ll be lucky to live for letting her touch you. You are mine. I always get what I want.”

I screamed as the blade flew down and hit me, but between ragged breaths and my hands touching my unmarked skin, I knew it was only a dream. That, and Elizabeth’s voice telling me everything was okay.

I looked at Elizabeth, surprised. When I would have nightmares, she would always soothe me. Why was last night different? I couldn’t have continuous nights of nightmares. I’d be a walking zombie by the end of the week.

“Listen to me, sweet girl. You’re safe. No one can hurt you.” I wished I could believe that.

After tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep and grabbed my robe before quietly going downstairs.

If I couldn’t sleep, I might as well bask in the endless options of food and drinks I was allowed.

When I got to the kitchen, I jumped, covering my mouth so I didn’t scream when I saw Caterina sitting at the bar, eating a gallon of ice cream.