"I'm serious, Rose. You're already eighteen. It's time for you to snap out of it, or you'll die a spinster."
I rolled my eyes at Jasmine's usual comment. What else could I expect from someone who had their first time at thirteem and treated sex like a hobby?
"I will—when I meet the right person," I said as I finished preparing a bouquet of flowers for Miss Lane.
"You can't wait forever. There are so many boys out there interested. Remember Mark? He seemed nice."
"Mark? The one who asked me to move in with him on the first date? That Mark?"
She laughed as she watered some plants.
"I really like this shop," she said proudly.
I shared her smile, letting my gaze drift around the little shop we'd opened together. We had always loved flowers and plants, that one of the many passions we shared.
This place was ours, and I couldn't wish for a better job than working with my best friend, doing what I loved. It was our first official day, and one of my dad's friends had already placed an order. I was making sure the bouquet she requested would be one of the prettiest she'd ever seen.
As we chatted about how we could improve the shop and what details to add here and there to make it more personalized and original—I heard a noise at the door.
I smiled, joy filled my should and my heart skipped a beat.
Our first real customer.
We both turned around, excited—
But what we saw was the last thing we expected.
Two men stormed in suddenly and turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED.
They wore creepy Halloween masks, and I instinctively moved toward them in a rush assuming that was a kind of sick joke.
"What are you—"
The taller, more massive one grabbed me by the neck and lifted me as if I was featherweight.
"Shut the fuck up," he growled.
I fell on the ground.
His voice was dark, threatening. My heart lodged in my throat.
That wasn't a joke.
Were they robbing us?
The other man went for Jasmine. He pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it right at her face.
She let out a scream and I did that same.
"You can take everything you want! There's not much in the register, we just opened, but.."
"I don't give a fuck about the money," the one holding me ostage said. All I could see through his mask were cold, dark eyes.
I swallowed hard as my spine shivered.
"W-what do you want?" I stammered, trembling, barely able to breathe as his hand went to squeeze my throat. One more inch and I'd be gone.
"I want you, Roselyn Claine."
My stomach dropped. My vision blurred as panic took over.
He knew my name.
How did he know my name? I had never seen him before—not that I could tell with that mask on.
"I..who are you? What do you want from me?"
He smirked at the question like he'd been waiting for it. Like he enjoyed this.
Then why the mask?
"I'm your worst nightmare."
He shoved me by the neck, and I fell hard to the ground.
He lifted his foot and pressed it against my stomach to keep me down. From above, he stared at me like I was his prey.
"You don't know me. But your father does. He killed my brother. I'm going to make him regret it by kidnapping you. By torturing you. Every day. For the rest of his life."
"My father?" My eyes widened in shock. "This—this must be a mistake. My dad's just an simple employee and a good man. He doesn't know you. Pl-please…"
He laughed. Loudly. His friend joined in the laughs and they shared an understanding gaze.
"I heard what you two were talking about earlier. You're a virgin? I've always liked virgins. Maybe I'll do more than just threaten you. Maybe I'll have some fun. Your father would love a thousand nieces with my name, wouldn't he?"
He kneeled to reach me on the floor and quickly pulled my hair. I let out a cry as he whispered against my neck.
"You grew up very well. I'm going to do terrible things to you. Things your innocent little mind can't even fucking imagine."
His breath was hot against my neck. And in that moment, death felt like the better option.
"Please, don't hurt her!" Jasmine screamed from the other side of the room.
I could feel his gaze on every inch of my body. I felt exposed—naked—in front of that brutal, unknown pervert.
"Her father isn't the person you're looking for!"
The man by Jasmine cocked his gun, the sound echoing through the room like a death sentence.
"You're useless to us. So I have no reasons not to kill you."
Then the one holding me leaned closer, voice low and sharp.
"Your father—Ugo Claine—is a mafia boss. He probably kept you far from his affairs to protect his little innocent girl. But he killed the wrong man."
He whispered against my neck as his hand slid up to my knee.
"And now, he'll get what he deserves."