The Boss's Girl

I found my angel but she had broken her wings.

I knew from the first time I looked at her that Megan didn’t
belong in my world.

Sold to repay a debt to my cousin, she belonged to him.

A doll in his doll house for his clients to play with.

Men like us break the innocence.

The darkness rips them apart.

Women are a weakness I can’t afford.

Yet, when I see her I want her.

I’m Dante Marchesi, the boss of the family.

What I say goes.

If I want her, I’ll have her, no matter the cost.

The question is: what will happen when I want more than just her body?

What if I want everything?

What if I want her to choose me too?

Will she?

Megan

People say you should never give up…

That you should keep going no matter what. 

Keep believing, keep trying, keep fighting…

I don’t know if any of those sayings apply to those who are broken. 

I think it takes some level of hope that you can pull through a situation and make it out at the other end to believe in such things. 

For people like me, there’s no point. 

No point believing and lying to myself. 

No point making myself believe there will be hope where there is none. 

My wrists still hurt and my body feels broken. That’s to be expected from what Lucca did to me. 

Ten lashes for my insolence and ten more for my disobedience. 

Disobedience for trying to escape the madman who came into my home like a thief in the night and took me as payment for the money my father owed. 

Sold.

Just like that. No questions asked. I’m not even sure Dad felt anything as he watched me go. That’s what I got for trying to be the good daughter. I was trying to save him from drinking himself into an early grave and his gambling addiction. 

Well… it served me right. I was warned that he couldn’t be saved, but back then I had hope, I believed I could do anything. That love could do all sorts of shit like heal. 

It didn’t. 

Dad got himself in trouble with mobsters and dragged me in too.

Now, look at me. 

I’m a sex slave to the tyrant Lucca Marchesi. 

I lift my head and gaze on at my reflection in the mirror. 

My green eyes that used to be bright and vibrant speak of the hell I’ve lived. My raven hair, pulled back into a ponytail highlights my gaunt appearance. But that’s how I’m supposed to have it when I’m working. Out of my face so the men can have a good look at me. 

Against the rusty mirror, I look forsaken. Abandoned. It’s true.

The rusty mirror might need cleaning, just like everywhere in the Dollhouse but it’s showing me the truth. 

Dollhouse…

That’s what Lucca calls this room. His Dollhouse in his sophisticated gentlemen’s club, Carpe Diem. 

I get the whole name, Carpe Diem. Sure, live for the moment. I might get the Doll House too if I weren’t a doll inside it and didn’t see the truth behind the mask. 

The truth of which is this: I’m a whore in a brothel. 

That’s what I was turned into. 

Lucca can call us whatever he wants, but that is what we are here. Both the girls who work here and get paid and the one’s he’s taken for debt repayment. 

Dollhouse though… nothing could be further from the truth. It’s a raggedy piece of shit dorm-like place with bunk beds where we sleep when we aren’t in the brothel. The brothel which looks like some five-star hotel fit for the president himself.

There are fifteen of us now, but when I got here three months ago there were sixteen girls, including me in this dorm. Of the sixteen, ten were girls that were bought or sold to Lucca Marchesi. 

I heard Emma did something, but no one ever told me what that was. I remember seeing her one day, and that was it. She was gone by the next. I wasn’t given any more details and all the other girls were afraid to talk about her.

Gina walks up to me and rests a hand on my shoulder. At twenty-five, she’s a year older than me, but she looks older. I would be the last person to be a bitch, however, and say such a thing to a girl I could consider a friend, but it’s true. They all look like that here. They have a damned appearance I’ll get eventually. It will come with time. 

“Please… don’t try to escape again,” Gina says. Her large brown eyes plead with me. “You might die next time. He won’t hesitate to kill you with that temper of his.” 

I know she’s right, but I wonder… wouldn’t death be better than this? 

I sigh and press my lips together. I haven’t spoken to anyone since I came out of the dungeon. The girls are either afraid Lucca might think they’re plotting with me to escape, or planning some sort of scheme. 

Gina is the only one brave enough to push the limits but even she knows when to take heed. 

“I’ll try,” I answer, mainly to show my appreciation for her care. That’s all. I’m not answering for any other reason. 

"I mean it, Megan. He’ll kill you. The same way he…” her voice trails off and she glances over her shoulder to see if anyone’s listening. 

They aren’t.

Belinda, the bitch who preps us for fucking isn’t anywhere in sight and the guard is at the other end of the room. 

It’s just us down here near the wardrobes. Gina didn’t have to say anything else. I knew what she meant, and who she was talking about. Emma. 

That was who she meant and I always believed she knew more than what she said and what she was willing to share. I think she saw it happen. Lucca killing Emma. The terror in her eyes every time Emma’s name is dropped also makes me think she was made to watch.

“I know,” I answer with a nod. My voice quivers from crying. Crying and screaming in the dungeon as I was whipped and left to starve. 

“Okay, so if you know, don’t do it. Please… don’t try it again. You can’t escape here. You can’t escape the Dollhouse, Megan. The only way out is if he says so, or… death.”

“Okay…”

She thinks I must have a death wish. I think I do. 

Ten days ago when I tried one of my many escape attempts and failed I thought if I didn’t make it, I’d do the only other thing I could do. Allow Lucca to kill me. The bastard knew it too. I make him too much money though. 

I’m the whore here who makes him a good fortune. I’m fresh meat for the men. They like new ones. It adds to the fantasy of this seedy hell I now call home. 

Jesus… I can’t believe this is me. 

“Chin up for tonight,” she encourages and saunters away. 

It’s time to go out now. Time to go to work. 

I walk in the opposite direction to where Gina went. I’m on the VIP floor. The place where the important men come for the night. 

It’s just me and the two other girls Lucca considers the favorites that work that floor.

I step out of the Doll’s House and the guards look at me, giving a special eye because they know I’m trouble. Of anyone else here I’m the one who’s tried to escape the most. 

I’m the only one of the girls who didn’t accept straight away that there was no way out. Then again I was the only one of the girls who fought because I had a dream once. My life was never supposed to end up like this. I sing. I’m a singer. I got a part in a new show in the Oak Theatre on Main street, one of Chicago’s finest.

I actually got the part singing as the second lead actress in their Musical Blood Stole the Heart. I’ve always wanted to sing on Broadway and that was the first step. 

Three months ago I got the part and was called in to sign the contract so I could start rehearsals. I went to bed that night and when I woke up I was here. To the owners of the show, it looked like I never turned up so I must have turned the offer down. They didn’t know I never made it because my father sold me to the devil. 

Eyes follow me as I walk into the elevator to carry me up to the VIP Lounge. I walk, press the button, and wait to go up. My breath still the whole time, thoughts of what will happen to me tonight race through my mind just as bad as that first night. 

I call it rape. When you’re dragged into a bedroom against your will and two men force themselves on you, beating you and laughing as you cry because they’re inside you, it’s fucking rape. 

The nights that followed were pretty much the same. Then I learned that if I wanted to live I’d have to play nice and behave. 

I start to shake the higher I get and by the time I reach the top floor, I’m a mess. The elevator bell dings and I think. 

I think…

I can’t do this. I don’t know how I’m supposed to. I don’t know what I did in life to deserve this. 

My mother is most certainly turning in her grave, screaming in the heavens for mercy on my soul. When she taught me to sing and play the piano it wasn’t for this. 

Not for this and I don’t know what’s happening but I don’t think there’s going to be any mercy for me. 

Gina thinks I’ll die if I try to escape again, that Lucca will kill me, but… what she never realized was that this is death. Every night I walk out here to be someone’s whore I die slowly. My attempts to escape were trying to live.

The doors slide open and I walk out but I’m not paying attention. 

I walk straight into a wall, except I was certain there was no wall there. 

I was right. There isn’t. 

Strong arms steady me as I recoil and almost fall. Strong steady arms that belong to a tall, tall, well-muscled man, with a face like a fairytale prince. He has olive skin, slick black hair, and that alluring Mediterranean look I’ve seen on most of the Italian men that frequent the club. 

Stormy blue eyes stare back at me gazing like he’s looking into my soul. He’s beautiful but … I know what kind of man he is just from the dangerous look in his eyes and the power rippling off him in waves. 

Hes a mobster and not just any old mobster. There’s a sense of authority in his presence. The type a leader would exude. The darkness in this man’s eyes lends information about his soul, telling me there’s nothing there.

“I’m so sorry,” I rasp gathering my composure. 

I try to step out of his grasp but he holds me. His gaze clings to mine and he searches my eyes making my breath still in response. 

God… please don’t tell me I’ve landed myself in more trouble. My heart can’t take it. 

This is a place where you could die just for looking at someone the wrong way. Who knows what could happen for bumping into a man like this. 

“You should be more careful Bellezza,” he says and I find myself unable to pull away from his intense gaze, and the rich deep timbre of his voice. Both hook me along with something I definitely don’t expect to feel here, not this place. 

Attraction. 

He releases me the second the word floats into my mind like he heard the forbidden thought I just had. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologize again and step back, away from him. 

His gaze rakes boldly over my body in this flimsy babydoll negligée. His eyes linger on my breasts and climb back up to meet my terrified stare. 

“No worries,” he answers and the corners of his lips turn up into a smooth sexy smile.

Quickly, I draw in a breath and continue on my way. I feel his eyes on me though with every step I take. I look back at him when I get to the end of the hall, and his eyes hold a promise that we’ll meet again. 

I’m not sure whether I should be worried about that. In a place like this, you should always be worried about something, and if he’s here he’s exactly like everyone else. All evil bastards who exist to steal your soul. 

He might have the beauty of the fairytale, but I won’t be foolish enough to think he’s a prince who will save me. After all, only the princesses get saved. 

I’m a whore in a brothel.

I continue walking, knowing that if we do meet there’s only one thing we’ll be doing. If that does happen, I pray he won’t hurt me as much as the others did. 

I pray he won’t shatter me and break me beyond repair.