Chapter 1 Price Of Survival

[Sierra’s POV] The light was low, casting shadows around the room, a suffocating silence settling over everything except for his ragged breathing. His grip tightened, the hunger in his eyes overwhelming. He worked swiftly, tearing at my clothes with each rip echoing louder in my head than it should have. His hands moved mercilessly, stripping me and positioning me roughly on the bed. Every motion felt like an assault on my dignity, each touch a violation of my sense of self. As he forced me into position, I wanted to scream, to push him away, but my body betrayed me, frozen under the weight of his control—just another man sent from the club, driven by power rather than connection. “You signed the deal,” he whispered into my ear, the words laced with venom. “There’s no escaping this. You’re mine for tonight.” I felt every push and pull, each thrust more invasive than the last. My legs ached, my body tense and trembling. Tears and an overwhelming mix of pain and confusion filled me as his actions left me bruised and exhausted. I couldn’t cry, not yet. My mind was reeling, struggling to make sense of the cruelty inflicted upon me. When he finally released, his demeanour was cold, indifferent. He pulled back, adjusting his clothes with a practiced nonchalance. He glanced at me lying there, a flicker of disgust crossing his face. “You’re really fading lately,” he said, his voice devoid of empathy. “Don’t waste my time next time.” With a final, contemptuous spat beside me, he left. I lay there, aching, each breath a struggle as the weight of what had happened settled over me like a heavy shroud. I remained on the bed, my body aching with pain as I laid in the same position he had left me in. The side of the bed was tattered. After a few minutes, I got up, weak and tired, my mind reeling from the decision that led me to accept the offer. Now, here I am, being used. Dominic De Santos, the mafia lord who controlled every corner of this underworld, would likely never know my name. But his reach was everywhere, his men treating the club—and those of us in it—as pieces in his game. He’d taken over his father’s legacy with a ruthlessness no one dared to question. And though I was nothing in his eyes, I was trapped under his control all the same. I had heard there were two De Santos brothers, but the second brother was a secret, with nobody knowing his real identity. I gently stood, my legs limping, my body aching as I put on my clothes, which the man had ruthlessly ripped off. I cautiously opened the door and left the room. My eyes locked onto the neon sign, 'Moonlight Club,' as I stepped out of the rain and into the dimly lit alley. The smell of smoke and cheap perfume clung to me like a bad omen. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for another night of selling my body to strangers. The rain drenched me. I didn't have my umbrella, but how did it matter? Would it be able to shield me from all this pain? My life had been one of struggle, crawling through the gutters to build a life out of nothing. After my dad died, life had never been the same. Everything was snatched from us like we were nothing. My dad's brother came in, claiming all of my dad's property and wealth, leaving us in the gutter to rot. My mother tried several times to plead for his help but was shut down by him. She even stooped so low as to sell her body to him. That monster, even after that, still never yielded or offered any support. I was forced to put a stop to my studies. At a young age, I knew what the world was truly about. My only world crashed before my eyes, abandoning my dreams, my only hope, and aim to help my mother. But yet, the same dirt I saw was my only way out. Used and thrown repeatedly each day, I felt less alive. I slowly walked down the roadside, my clothes dripping. I felt the eyes leering at me with a gaze, a sly grin on the strangers' faces consuming me. My hands gripped tight onto my clothes, but what was the use? I forgot I was what they saw, a tool only to be used to quench their desires. My gaze dropped as I walked through the road, taxi cabs honking, hoping for me to hop in. But how I wish; the little money I had with me was for my mom's medicine. She was diagnosed with cancer. At least the doctor mentioned there was hope she would survive. But it all seemed to be a sham of lies. Mom had been bedridden for a year now, her illness not deteriorating, only getting worse each and every second. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her. She was the only one I had, the only close friend I had in this world. All just use and forget. A life they stand to gain from, but when in need or needing their favor, they vanish from sight, nowhere to be seen. I nodded, continuing to walk. People ran helter-skelter in the rain while I walked with a lowered gaze, bumping into me like I wasn't even there. After some minutes, I finally arrived home, gently opening the door to the room... "Mom, I'm home..." I uttered, my eyes scanning the area as I slowly closed the door. The floor was damp from the rain droplets. The roof was leaking, and the apartment was quite run-down, half-damaged. It was the cheapest place I could afford, but I wouldn't say it was cheap now, would I? The owner had been on my neck for a month now. I was overdue on my payment. I had been pleading for more time. I spent most of the money I earned on Mom's medications and treatment, with little left to eat and fix some things around the apartment. I placed some buckets to prevent further flooding on the floor. My mom's persistent coughing was enough to provide me with her location. I turned slowly, walking to her room, where she lay on the bed as her cough persisted. "Y-you-u...here, dear?" she uttered, her words caught through her labored breath. "Yes, Mom...how are you?" I asked, my heart aching at the sight of her struggling. "I'm fine, my baby, Mummy is...o—ok," she said between coughs. I knew she was trying to be strong. She wanted to help, but now it was my time to help her. She had tried so hard to raise me without Dad. I slowly approached her, bending down as I sat beside her. My hands went for her medicine, and I helped her take a small dose.