Chapter 5

The evening had settled with an uneasy quiet around the dilapidated structure Ava called home. Hidden in the shadows, Marco and Luca maintained a vigilant watch, their presence unnoticed, their purpose singular—ensuring Ava's safety.

Ava's heart sank at her father's bellow, echoing down to the cold, dimly lit basement she called her room. "Ava! Get your lazy ass up here, now!" The harshness in his voice, a familiar terror, gripped her chest tightly, squeezing the air from her lungs. Each word was like a lead weight, pulling her further into despair.

With a shaky breath, she pushed herself off the thin, worn mattress that lay on the bare concrete floor. Her muscles protested, aching from the cold and the hard surface she had grown accustomed to. Ava's mind raced as she approached the rickety stairs that led to the main floor, each step creaking under her slight weight, mirroring the scream of her nerves.

Not again, she thought, her mind a whirlwind of anxiety and fear. What does he want this time? Can't I just be left in peace for once? But she knew better. Peace was a luxury she couldn't afford, not in this house, not with him.

As she ascended, each step felt like moving closer to a monster's lair. Fear knotted in her stomach, growing with each creak of the wooden stairs under her feet. She imagined what it might be about this time—another mess she hadn't cleaned up fast enough, a meal that wasn't to his liking, or perhaps just the need to vent his frustrations on someone powerless to fight back.

Just keep your head down, Ava. Apologize and get back to the basement as fast as you can. Her thoughts tried to prepare her, to make her small, invisible, but they did little to quell the shaking of her hands or the rapid beat of her heart.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Ava paused, taking a deep, steadying breath, trying to brace herself for what was to come. The door stood ominously before her, a gateway to the inevitable. She reached out a trembling hand, her skin pale against the dark wood of the door, hesitating for a moment before turning the knob.

Just a few minutes, she told herself, then you can disappear again. But even as she tried to muster the courage to face whatever lay beyond, Ava couldn't shake the feeling of dread that clung to her like a second skin. The air felt heavier, charged with the impending storm of her father's wrath. And with one last breath, she stepped through the doorway into the eye of the storm.

Ava's father, a man worn by life's relentless battles and succumbing to its darkest temptations, was in a foul mood. His voice, laced with venom, cut through the silence. "You're nothing but a burden, Ava!" he bellowed. "I've found a way to make you useful, finally!"

Ava, her body tensing at the ominous tone, found her voice, barely a whisper, "What do you mean, Dad?"

Her father's response was a cruel sneer. "Frank owes me, and he's agreed to take you off my hands. You'll live with him now."

A chill ran down Ava's spine. Frank, known in the neighborhood for his vile profession, was the last person she wanted to be associated with. "No, please," she begged, desperation creeping into her voice. "You can't do this."

Ava's father, a hulking figure whose better years were long swallowed by bitterness and alcohol, glared at her with undisguised contempt. "I've had it with you, Ava!" he began, his voice a menacing growl. "You're nothing but a drain on this family, eating our food, taking up space."

Ava's voice, barely above a whisper, countered, "I-I do everything around here. I clean, cook, take care of—"

Her father cut her off, his voice rising, "Enough! I don't wanna hear it. I've found a solution to get rid of you."

Ava's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

He sneered, the look in his eyes cold and calculating. "Frank. He's willing to take you in. Says he has some work you can do. It'll settle some of my... debts."

Terror gripped Ava as the implication of his words sank in. Frank, the neighborhood's known pimp, was a fate worse than she could imagine. "No, please," she begged, her voice breaking. "You can't do that. I'll... I'll do more around here. Please, Dad."

Her plea seemed to infuriate him further: "Do more? Do you think you can do more to fix this mess? It's settled. He's coming for you tomorrow."

Ava, panic-stricken, stepped back, her mind racing for a way out. "Dad, please. I'm begging you. Don't do this. I'm your daughter."

The word 'daughter' seemed to ignite a further rage in him. "My daughter?" he scoffed, his fury reaching a boiling point as he advanced toward her. "You're no daughter of mine. You're a burden, and I'll be damned if I let you drag me down any longer."

Without another word, he grabbed Ava by the arm, his grip iron-tight, and dragged her towards the basement door. She struggled, trying to break free, but his strength was overwhelming. With a cruel shove, he sent her tumbling down the stairs, her cries echoing off the cold walls.

As she lay in a heap at the bottom, her father bolted the door shut from the outside. His voice thundered through the door, "I'd like to see you try and defy me on this." His footsteps stomped away, his laughter a chilling backdrop to the darkness enveloping Ava.

Lying crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, Ava was ensnared in a web of pain that seemed to touch every part of her being. Her arm, grotesquely twisted and pinned beneath her, throbbed with an intensity that made the very fabric of her consciousness fray at the edges.

Each tiny movement sent ripples of sharp, unyielding pain through her, hinting at bones that had snapped under the weight of her fall.

Her shoulder, too, was a nexus of agony, likely dislocated, adding its own shrill voice to the cacophony of pain that was her constant companion.

Tears mingled with the dust on her face, not solely shed for the physical torment but for the overwhelming despair that seemed to flood her entire essence.

She was a prisoner, not just of the locked door that sealed her fate within the damp confines of the basement, but of a life that had been nothing but a series of abuses and degradation, a perpetual cycle with no hint of escape.

In her agony, Ava's mind wandered to Dominic, perhaps seeking an escape of its own. He was a figure of both safety and danger, his presence a contradiction that somehow offered a sliver of hope in her desolate world.

She regretted her decision to leave the sanctuary of his car; the brief moment of peace and protection it had offered now seemed like a cruel tease of what life could offer. "Why did I leave? Why couldn't I just have stayed with him?" she berated herself, her heart heavy, longing for the sense of security Dominic had unwittingly provided.

In her basement prison's cold, unforgiving darkness, she clung to the memory of his kindness and the inexplicable strength she sensed in him as if it were a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of her despair.

Outside, hidden in the shadows, Marco and Luca exchanged a glance, their decision instantaneous. Marco pulled out his phone and dialed Dominic, the urgency clear in his voice.

"Boss," Marco began, his voice tense, "It's bad. He's planning to hand her over to Frank... And he just threw her into the basement, locked her in. It didn't sound good, boss."

Dominic's response was a venomous growl, "Stay there. Keep your eyes on her. I'm on my way." The call ended abruptly as Dominic's resolve solidified into action. Within moments, he was in his car, the engine roaring to life as he sped off into the night, a storm of fury and determination brewing within him.