đ ENCHANTRESS IN DISTRESS đ
She is naive, he is cruel
Romance and Tragedy
By: Authoress Lovely
Episode Twelve
âŠ.
Monday Evening
(The night Caterina was sold.)
Her last memory was Thompson's betrayed face.
When Caterina came to, she found herself in a cold, dark room. A single bulb flickered, throwing shadows that crawled along the walls.
Her ribs locked. She couldn't breathe. _Where am I? What do they want?_
Footsteps echoed outside. The door creaked open.
A figure loomed in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light.
"Welcome, Caterina," a low voice said. "You're going to make us very happy."
Caterina's heart sank.
The figure stepped closer, its features illuminated by the faint light.
She gasped.
This was only the beginning of her nightmare.
She was still in a daze, struggling to process what happened. She scanned the room and the masculine man in front of her. A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
She remembered him. He was the one who drugged her.
_This is my life,_ she thought bitterly.
The slice of a cold knife on her shoulder yanked her back. Pain shot through her nerves. She could only whimper in fear.
"Done processing, or do you need another reminder?" The man said, voice flat. She nodded fearfully.
"N-no..." she whispered, fear threading her voice. The man stared at her like he had no soul. The longer he stared, the harder she shivered.
"Enough with the tears. Get used to it if you want to survive," he said harshly. She nodded, and he sneered.
"You answer with 'Yes sir' or 'Yes sir, Caine.' Clear?"
"Yes sir, Caine," she responded, trembling.
"Babysitting toys. That's what the Don has me doing," he lamented with irritation.
"S-sex toy?" she stammered in disbelief, her voice barely audible.
"What? Surprised? Why else were you sold?" he scoffed.
Fear slid down her spine. For a minute she felt paralyzed, unable to process the words.
"Uncle sold me to be used as a sex toy," she said, the truth like glass in her mouth. Betrayal and grief crashed over her.
"You're coming with me. You were reserved â specifically â for the Don himself," Caine said, yanking her roughly to her feet. "But before that, you will do what's necessary."
He clapped. Two maids walked in.
"Take her to the tattooing room with the other slaves," he ordered. "I can't stand the naivety." He stormed off, disgusted.
The two maids took her arms cheerfully, bold smiles on their faces. Caterina stared, confused.
"Hi, I'm Abigail," the first one said brightly. "And she's Amanda." Amanda frowned.
"I was going to introduce myself," Amanda said with a playful pout. "Hi, I'm Amanda. And I'm the head maid's favorite."
"You don't have to brag. Madam Beatrice loves us equally," Abigail said, clinging to Caterina's arm â the one Caine cut. Caterina winced. Abigail loosened her grip immediately.
Caterina still didn't understand. Sensing her confusion, Abigail decided to explain.
"I already introduced myself, so let's move forward. I'm sure you're in a daze," Abigail said, her expression suddenly blank. "Unfortunately, you were sold. Your uncle is a debtor to the Don. He owes a huge amount and couldn't pay up."
Caterina's knees almost buckled. "So I'm⊠payment?"
Abigail nodded. "People like you get sold as toys. Soldati â the Don's soldiers â use you however they like." She paused. "Unless the Don marks you as his own. The only marked toy right now is Lady Margherita. A few others, but they're lower rank. And the soldati are ruthless."
Caterina was stunned. "So all I mean to my uncle is payment for his debt?" Painful tears fell. Both girls held her tightly.
"I know it's a lot," Amanda reassured her. "But as long as you adapt and wise up, you'll be fine. Trust me."
Caterina hiccupped, swallowing the rest of her tears. She gave them a shaky smile. They smiled back.
"Sir Caine talked about tattooing... what did he mean?" Caterina asked.
Before Abigail could answer, Amanda cut in.
"Sorry. This airhead forgot the important part." She shot Abigail a look. "The tattoo is a symbol of ownership. Once you get it, you're automatically the Don's property. Only toys have it." Amanda's voice turned sad. Abigail nodded vigorously, which only annoyed Amanda more.
Caterina didn't know how to react. The air in the room felt heavy.
"It's just a tattoo. You'll be fine," Abigail said gently. "The main thing is to get in the Don's good books so the soldati don't pester you. Since you were kept separately, the Don has his eyes on you. You likely won't be touched by soldati. Shall we proceed?"
Caterina nodded sadly, and they all walked out of the room.
....
Present day.
Caterina was moved to the toys' quarter. The hall was large and spacious, stretching nearly 32 feet, with narrow passages and IKEA beds lining both sides of the wall.
The room was packed with beautiful women of every skin color and nationality.
Laughter bubbled from a cluster of girls braiding each other's hair like this was summer camp, no care in the world.
Three beds down, a girl curled into herself, sobbing into a thin pillow â one of the trafficked ones, still unable to accept her fate.
By the door, two women in scraps of lace practiced moans, coaching each other on how to please the clan members. Others flaunted worse behavior, desperate to survive any way they could.
Caterina was given a comfortable space â a lower bunk down the hall, the only part with standing fans and curtained windows.
The special treatment was because of the Don's initials â RR â inked on her wrist. It didn't mean she was safe. It meant she was _his to judge_.
After tonight's party, he'd decide.
She could become his personal toy, coveted and envied like Lady Margherita.
Or his garbage toy â his punching bag, his rage to vent.
Or worse: if he rejected her, she'd get the clan crest burned into her shoulder and belong to the soldati.
But for now, one rule protected her: no one else could touch what the Don hadn't claimed.
If looks could kill, Caterina would be long dead. The hate in the room was thick enough to choke on. But none of it was her concern.
Her thoughts snapped back to Abigail's warning.
"Stay off Margherita's radar," Abigail's voice echoed in her head. "And whatever you do â _don't_ please the Don. If he looks twice, Margherita will bury you before your story even starts."
But that was the least of her worries. Caterina's plan differed from Abigail's warning. Right now, all she cared about was getting out of this hellhole before anything dreadful happened.
_She refused to be his garbage toy. Refused to be his favorite, too. Tonight, the Don would choose. She planned to be gone before he did.
The only way out was tonight's party. Tonight they'd be officially presented as clan property. But being the only RR toy made escape nearly impossible. Still, she wondered â why her? She was surrounded by stunning women.
She lay on her bed, mapping every possible way out, when three girls approached. The other toys called them the "J-bitches" â Jessica, Josephine, and Jeradine. They looked like they were born for this fate, the only girls who'd signed up for this life. Anything for comfort, they'd do it.
Josephine and Jeradine strolled over in undergarments that barely covered anything. Jessica, their Queen Bee, wore a nightgown that was transparent in front and barely cleared her glutes. She earned the name Jezebel for a reason.
She chewed her gum loudly, staring at Caterina with pure disdain.
"So you're the maybe-bitch, huh?" Jessica sneered, arms folded as she stood over Caterina's bed. "Got RR on your wrist like it means something."
Caterina stared back. Blank. Empty.
The silence fueled Jessica. "Newsflash â he hasn't picked. You could be his princess by midnight⊠or his trash. And if he tosses you? You'll be _under_ us. So don't look so comfortable."
Josephine and Jeradine snickered behind her.
Caterina chuckled. Low. Empty.
Jessica's smirk twitched.
The J-bitches rolled their eyes and walked away. Caterina watched their retreating figures with disgust.
_I don't plan on being like you,_ she thought. _I just want to get out of this place, return to school, and ask my uncle why he did this to me.
â