Chapter 46

Z A R A

"Alejandro..." I call out softly. "Please, answer me."

"It's no use," Marcus says coldly. "He won't snap out of it until his body recognizes that he's no longer under any kind of threats."

I lay my head back on Alejandro's shoulder, closing my eyes. "Remember that time when I told you I loved white roses and you filled Yasmeen's car trunk with a bunch of white roses?" I say to him, though I know he probably can't hear me. "But you didn't specify who they were for and who they were from."

Yasmeen giggles sadly. "And I mistakenly thought they were for me and wouldn't shut up about having a secret admirer."

I giggled at the memory.

"Oh, and remember the time he scared away that one poor guy who had a crush on you?" Yasmeen says. How could I forget. "I swear all the male species in our school, no matter if they were strangers or friends, stayed far away from you after that."

I chuckle softly. "Yeah, that was kind of selfish of him considering that he would barely make a move on me for years."

Yasmeen lays her head on Marcus's shoulder, and to my surprise, he nuzzles his chin closer against her, quietly listening to us reminisce about our past.

I raise a brow, since when? But Yasmeen motions at me to not question it or it may ruin the moment. I nod, knowing Marcus can be tense, I wouldn't want to take away their happy moments during such a shitty situation.

I think about how Yasmeen doesn't know about my pregnancy... I decided it would be better if I don't inform her yet, in case I don't make it.

The door swings open, ruining the small moment of peace I had left.

"I see you haven't managed to bring Alejandro back to his senses yet," Philip eyes Alejandro. "Maybe I can help motivate him a little," he says, the blade in his hand shining against the dim light.

Before I can blink, he jabs the knife into my thigh and a blood-curdling screech fills the room. It takes me a few more seconds to realize that the sound didn't come from me, it was Yasmeen.

My thigh burns in the most excruciating pain, quickly ringing throughout my body. Blood gushes through, soaking my skirt in an instant. The pain is so quick in spreading through my body that I can't bring myself to scream. My voice has been knocked out of me, I can barely breathe as my injured leg trembles from discomfort.

Philip sighs, disappointed he didn't get any reaction out of Alejandro.

"That won't do anything," Marcus adds as he protectively covers Yasmeen by placing himself in front of her. "It's near impossible to break him out of it."

"Oh? And I'm sure you would know how to break him out of it, pretty boy," Philip says.

"Even if I did, why the fuck would I tell you?" Marcus spits.

"This is why," Philip grabs Yasmeen by her elbow and throws her to the opposite end of the room.

"You fucking bastard, don't lay a finger on her!" Marcus yells.

"Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!" I shout, gritting my teeth from the pain that is nowhere near subsiding.

"Or you'll do what?" Philip grazes the knife across Yasmeen's old, fading wounds on her wrist opening up a stream of red liquid.

Marcus and I helplessly look on, both of us bound in chains. Yasmeen clenches her jaw as she silently takes it without a single sound. His knife trails down to her inner thighs and my eyes widen.

"Just tell him, Marcus! Tell him, please!" My voice comes out hoarse. Marcus stares in horror but his lips are shut tight.

"Fuck Alejandro! Just tell Philip what he wants to know. Please," I beg. "Yasmeen isn't meant for this. She's never been..." my pleading stops as I realize they're falling on deaf ears.

I'm stupid to think Marcus would prioritize Yasmeen over Alejandro. Of course, he wouldn't! Why would he? It's just as I wouldn't prioritize Alejandro over Yasmeen. But it still hurts to watch as Yasmeen stares blankly ahead, knowing that Marcus won't choose her.

"None of you are any fun," Philip pouts as he drives his knife across Yasmeen's inner thigh. She winces as a small screech leaves her lips. "None of you react to any of this."

A sickly light reaches his eyes as he struts over to Marcus. He places the tip of his knife against Marcus's throat, slightly piercing it, drawing blood.

Yasmeen yells, "No! Please, don't do anything to him!"

"It's alright, Yasmeen," Marcus says calmly.

"No, Yasmeen. It's not alright," Philip says as he realizes he'll definitely get a reaction out of Yasmeen. "This boyfriend of yours seems to be busy sucking his boyfriend's dick still. Are you okay with that? Are you okay being a part of a threesome?"

"Just let him go, please," Yasmeen pleads, her voice cracking.

"You're quite obviously not his first choice," his words make Yasmeen wince slightly.

"He's just stringing you along, isn't he? Now that his boyfriend found a new toy, he needs something to keep him preoccupied too." He digs the knife a little deeper across Marcus's throat. "Tell her the truth, Marcus. Tell her why you even bothered to show interest in her in the first place."

"What... what is he talking about?" I blink.

"Yasmeen, it's not—"

"Elijah has told me some interesting stories," Philip continues. "Tell her how your initial plan was to mess with her because you were envious of her close relationship with Alejandro. How you thought you'd get to Alejandro by hurting her—"

"I know," Yasmeen's voice is flat, her expression blank.

I can tell she feels her heart being ripped out of her chest. I can tell that she'd rather feel that knife against her a thousand more times than to hear whatever Philip has to say next.

"Then, let me carve him up for you," he grins.

"No," she states firmly.

"Where's your brooding self-respect, Yasmeen?" He taunts her. "You used to carry yourself with such dignity years ago. I used to admire you for it. You're throwing that away all for someone like him? For someone who'll always consider you the second choice?"

"Yes, I am," her answer is firm, she means every letter.

"Fine," he drops the knife. "Only if you'll greet an old friend of yours. Aayan, won't you come in?"

As Aayan walks in with a twisted grin on his face, all the color drains from Yasmeen's face. Her arms and legs fall back as if she lost sense in them. I start writing in my seat, moving against the clasps around my wrists. Anger welling up within me, "Philip, I swear—"

"You fucking piece of shit!" Marcus spits.

"Don't take a single step towards her!"

"This is what happens when the power dynamics are unbalanced between a pair. She's prepared to go to lengths to keep you out of harm's way, but you..." Philip doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, he clicks his tongue in mocking disappointment and shakes his head. He turns his head to face Yasmeen and says, "Now, if you don't want any harm to befall your unworthy boyfriend, I suggest you quietly follow Aayan out and tend to his needs."

"Yasmeen, it's okay. Screw Marcus!" I yell, begging her to understand that it's not worth it. None of these men are worth a penny of our emotions. "Please, listen to me and don't do this!"

"I'm not worth it, damn it!" Marcus shouts at her, trying to make her see reason. "Don't do this! I can take it, I can take every bit of torture they throw at me but I can't... I won't be able to see you go through with this for me," his voice cracks near the end.

Yasmeen doesn't answer, instead, she silently obeys as she's being unfastened to be escorted out of the room.

Marcus doesn't understand that when Yasmeen loves, she loves hard. She'll do anything and everything to make sure he'll be as okay as he can be. He doesn't understand that she's the most wonderful and selfless person he'll ever know. He doesn't understand that no matter how intolerable this all is for her, she'll pretend it isn't, just for his sake.

"I'll be okay," she says whispers to him right before stepping out, "I'll be okay as long as the both of you are okay."

I squeeze my eyes shut as I whimper quietly, trying to stifle my loud cries.

"Don't worry, lover boy. I'll make sure you get front row seats to the show," Philip says as he gestures at the guard to take Marcus away. "You'll watch as Aayan does everything you wished you did to Yasmeen," he pauses to think, "Or maybe you never even wished to do those things to her because, well, you don't want her in that way, do you?"

"I'll kill you. If I get out of these, I'll fucking kill you! I'll cut you into pieces and feed you to the pigs!" Marcus yells as he's dragged out of the room.

"Sure, I'll be waiting!" Philip smirks. He turns his attention towards me, "Now that those two are out of the way, shall we continue?"

• • •

How many more times will he do this? How much more will I bleed for this? For him? I've lost count of how many slashes and cuts have been marked across my skin, I've lost count of how many times I've begged him to stop, I've lost count of how many times I've pleaded with Alejandro to come back.

My clothes are heavy as they soak in the red liquid gushing forth from my cuts. My head slung down, my neck unable to hold its weight any longer. My thoughts switch between the health of the child growing in me to Yasmeen's state. I think about Frank's meaningless death, I think about how selfish Alejandro is for disassociating.

I don't care if he thought I escaped. He should've given Philip what he wanted, maybe it would've softened the blow of his anger.

Or maybe it would've changed nothing because, at the end of the day, Alejandro used me as bait. I would've been bound to end up in a similar situation anyways.

"Aren't... you tired... yet?" I breathe heavily while asking Philip.

"No," he answers energetically. "Are you?"

"Yes," I answer breathlessly in hopes that he'd just stop.

"Awe, poor thing. But I have a new toy I want to try out on you so hang tight," he says with sinister excitement. One of his men hands him a long, thin leather whip and I felt every bone in my body struggling against the chains. He whips the leather strap in the air and it makes a skin-curling lashing noise, making my toes curl. My stomach twists and I know I won't survive the pain. There's no way.

"Philip, I'll do anything. Please, don't hurt the baby," my last resort is constant begging and I'm disgusted with myself.

"My father is dead, Zara. I'm sure he begged to be spared but your dear husband didn't listen," he says grimly.

"What the hell does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, yet everything all at once," he answers.

I kick Alejandro's chair, I kick it hard and constantly. "Wake up! Please, wake up! For once in your life, do the right thing! Please..." my voice falters near the end.

"Awe, I almost feel bad for you..." Philip frowns, "almost."

Philip gestures something at one of the men standing by the door. The man pulls me off the chair, my constraints still intact, and places me on my knees in front of Alejandro.

"Enjoy the show, I guess," Philip says to a still-disassociated Alejandro.

His first lash knocks every inch of air out of my lungs. I take in a sharp intake of breath, as a screeching noise leaves my throat.

"Alejandro..." my voice falters as I reach out a shaky arm to grip his leg. "Please..." Another loud slash fills the air as the whip makes contact with my clothed skin.

"Philip," a hoarse, deep voice says. "if you don't stop now, I'll make sure your fate is worst than anyone's I've given before."

It takes a moment to register that it's Alejandro. My head whips up to look so fast that my neck almost snaps. I let out a relieved sob, sinking to the floor.

His eyes lock with mine and the expression he's wearing makes me shift back. It's terrifying. At first, he looked confused and disoriented, wondering why I'm here and not on a plane back home. Then, the look in his eyes shifts. They're so dark and lifeless that I couldn't recognize them anymore. His skin is pale from previously losing blood, his lips dry and blue. He looks tired, he looks beaten, he looks like he's had enough. Yet he looks like he's ready to fight a battle--a war--if he must.

"You've finally decided to join us, Mr. Genovese," Philip grins. "A little too late but it's better late than never, right?" He looks at me as if I'd agree.

"Let her go," Alejandro's voice is flat.

Philip only chuckles in response. "You have an odd sense of humor, Alejandro. Why in the world would you think I'd ever let her go? Because you asked me so?"

"I didn't show your sell-out of a father any mercy but I did end his life faster than he deserved. I won't show you the same mercy."

The comment about his father makes Philip clench his jaw. "I don't think you're in the position to speak about who gets to show who mercy."

Alejandro ignores Philip and looks directly at me. His eyes soften only ever so slightly, barely noticeable. They linger over my bloodied body, nostrils flaring in heightening anger as he drinks in every gash, every scrape, every abrasion inflicted upon me. He closes his eyes, shutting them tight, and takes a deep breath. Suddenly, a bone-cracking noise fills the room and I flinch. Before I could even blink, Alejandro manages to slip out of his chain constraints and grabs me by the waist, pulling me behind him. I grip his shirt, not being able to hold myself up but I refuse to pass out. Not now, not here.

I watch as Alejandro cracks his hands in certain places when it dawns on me... he dislocated his bones to slip out of his cuffs.

Philip's eyes widen but his men have already cocked their guns pointing it at us in an instant, ready to shoot at his command.

"Nice magic trick," Philip comments. "But this decision is only going to burden you some more." He picks up his phone and places a video call. "Now!" He orders someone on the phone. He turns the phone screen towards us and in an instant, I see the most earth-shattering murder occur in front of my eyes.

"No!" My high-pitched screech fills the room along with two loud, bullets. I drop to the floor gasping for air. "Amma! Abbu!" I scream again and again until my throat is dry, until I don't have any more sounds coming out of me until I can't form any words.

They're sitting on our living room couch. Duct tape smothered over their mouths, hands tied behind their backs, fear rushing through their minds. I watched as they had the look of confusion and horror plastered on their faces moments before the light left their eyes. I watched as the blood spilled down their foreheads, down their noses, dripping down onto their laps. They're pale, still, and quiet. They're lifeless. They're dead. They've been murdered in cold blood. All because they were my parents. All because I existed within their lives.

My heart shatters into a million pieces, my world instantly turns dark. I reach down to the floor, hands against the concrete, holding myself up. Tears flowed out of my eyes like a dam broke forth. My chest burns, it burns every time I try to inhale and exhale. But I'm silent, I can no longer comprehend anything.

"This could've all been avoided if your husband only cooperated," Philip comments with slight irritation. "He's irrationally stubborn, isn't he?"

My mother, my father... gone. Just like that. I couldn't protect them, not even when they were nowhere near me. I'm a failure as a friend, I'm a failure as a mother and now, I'm a failure as a daughter. I can no longer hold onto my sanity. I no longer feel human.

"This is all your fault..." my voice croaks as I speak to Alejandro. "This is all your fucking fault..." I pause and correct myself,

"Actually, it's my fault. This is all my fault. Every single thing that has occurred, from Philip's father's death to my parents' deaths, is my fault."

"Zara..." Alejandro tries to stop me but I back away.

"No, no. I shouldn't have blamed you. I need to take accountability for my mistakes." I look up at Alejandro with cold and unforgiving eyes, "You're my biggest mistake. I should've never met you, I should've never looked your way, I should've never invited you into my life. It's all my fault. Everyone's as good as dead because of me and only me."

"Alejandro, don't you think this is the perfect time to tell her about your mommy issues?" Philip's voice is laced with sickening joy.

Alejandro grabs something from his shoe—a dagger—and throws it at Philip, pinning it against his collarbone. Philip screams out in pain, but it doesn't bring me any satisfaction.

One of his men was about to shoot but Philip stops him with the wave of a hand.

"Now, now," he groans, pulling out the sharp knife. "I think you should tell your wife about what happened to mommy dearest." When Alejandro doesn't answer, Philp does so in his place, "Mommy Genovese was murdered in cold blood by your wonderful husband, Zara.

"She was unfaithful," Alejandro grits his teeth, almost defensively.

"But what kind of a person murders their own mother for such a thing?" I taunt him.

"Holding a grudge against her is one thing but murdering the woman who brought you into this world... You're truly fucked." I want to use anything, any big or small information given to me against him.

"I couldn't agree more," Philip adds.

"My father gave her the world and she gave him nothing but pain in return," Alejandro says quietly. "That woman was the scum of the Earth!"

"How did you kill her, Alejandro? Did you gut her? Asphyxiate her? Put her a bullet through her skull? Or did you do your favorite? Torture her slowly and painfully until she was no more?" I provoke him, rage searing through me.

Alejandro stays silent.

"Calling you a monster would be an understatement," I say calmly, any emotions left in me have dispersed. "Calling you a beast, the devil, or Satan himself, would be offensive to them, rather than offend you. There's not a word vile enough out there to describe you."

Philip approaches me and Alejandro steps up to block me.

"Let him through," I say.

A smirk lifts at Philip's lips as Alejandro reluctantly steps away. He crouches down and hands me a gun.

"End your anguish by ending him," Philip instigates. "You'll be doing the world a favor by ridding it of a barbarian like him. One less bastard to be afraid of."

As I hold the cool, bulky gun in my hand, the weight of it feels heavy, not only physically, but mentally. I stand up, my legs almost giving out from the blood loss and pain, yet I don't give a single damn. I walk towards the man who has brought me more misery that can last me a lifetime. I shove the gun against the base of his throat, digging it into his skin uncomfortably but he doesn't argue, nor complain. He stands completely still, his arms hanging on his sides. His eyes studied me, wondering if I have the balls to pull the trigger.

"If I kill you, will it all go away? Will it stop hurting?" I ask genuinely. "Will it all just stop?"

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