Juliana's POV

Hospital's suck.

Like seriously, there is nothing to do around here. Especially when you're not allowed to get up or do, virtually anything.

I've been here for eight days exactly. I've only been conscious for half of them, but it is still a cruel type of torture. Especially, when no one wants to be around you. For the past three days, my room had been a dead zone, the exception being the first evening I was awake, when Justin and Hunter, who had both been at summer school, came to visit me with Elijah as he did a final vitals check for the night.

The most company I got these days seemed to be from the nurse who came in every 3 hours for vitals but refused to acknowledge me. Or the physical therapist that came in every day at 1pm exactly to poke at my ribs, guide me through stretches, and take me for a short walk up and down the small, nearly deserted hallway.

Did it make me feel slightly like a caged animal? Yes. Did I care at this point? No.

I'm currently staring at the TV, not fully aware of what I'm watching, nor do I care. I cared three days ago when I got sedated for being "uncooperative" when they were trying to shove random pills down my throat. I cared two days ago, when they put the restraints back on me after I "unnecessarily" got up to use the bathroom out of boredom. I cared two days ago when they stopped answering my call light. I cared two days ago when I was refused access to my phone. I cared two days ago when they stopped bringing me food. I cared two days ago, when my mind hadn't shut itself down in an act of survival.

I was a little surprised when my door finally opened at 5pm, and I saw Elijah enter out of the corner of my eye. Ignoring him. I continue not watching the TV, noticing that it was on this kids show with a blue puppy that they named Bluey.

"Good evening Juliana." Elijah greeted me brightly, but I am in no mood to be bright and happy. He could go shove his happy up his -

Elijah sighed, seeing that I wasn't going to acknowledge him, he moved on. He started checking my vitals, and I didn't fight him, but I also wasn't much help.

He spoke again to me as he typed into the computer.

"How are you feeling?"

"..."

"Juliana," He repeated, thinking I must not have heard him. "How do you feel?"

When I didn't say anything, I saw Elijah take in a deep annoyed breath, before he tried again.

"Juliana, I can not take you home if you are unresponsive. How. Do. You. Feel." He said in a clipped tone.

This got my attention. I turn my head, almost mechanically, to face him. When Elijah gets a full look at my face his gaze turns from annoyed to something else. Concern? Confusion?

"I feel fine." I reply in a similar tone to his.

"You sure aren't acting like it." He muttered as he typed something more into the computer.

I watched him take out the iv, disconnect me from all the other machines they had monitoring me. I still felt as though I was watching some sort of movie or show when I put on my shoes, got sat in the wheelchair, and wheeled through the hospital. Which I learned was the actual hospital they owned, not just the clinic at the house.

I watched myself be helped into the backseat of the car, and I watched as we drove for miles. I watched the city line quickly disappear as woods slowly developed all around us. That's when the car slowed down and eventually stopped.

We sat in silence for a few moments before the confusion hit me.

"Why are we just sitting here?" I finally broke the silence, confused, as I could see the turn off for the front gate only a few yards ahead of us.

Elijah stayed silent for a few more moments. "Who hurt you?"

"I already told you, no one."

"Bruises like that don't happen from a little trip and fall." He rebounded, his voice raising slightly in disbelief.

"They do when you've fallen off the bannister. That's why one side is worse than the other. And why the brakes are all on my left side." I reason.

"Don't you lie to me." Elijah swings around so that he is almost fully facing me. "Anybody with half a brain knows that your injuries were inflicted. So who the hell are you trying to protect?" He ranted and I pressed further into the seat as I saw the fury in his eyes start to peak through as his façade cracked.

"I'm not protecting anyone, I told you the truth and you chose not to believe me." I whisper, watching him closely to make sure he won't lash out.

"Juliana, I'm trying to be nice, baby, but you have to work with me. I really don't want to have to punish you for lying." He said, his voice and face softening even as my blood ran cold.

"Elijah, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm telling you the truth." I stressed. But I knew that any effort I made would be futile when I saw his jaw tick.

"When we get home go straight to your room. I don't want to hear one word, capire? (TRANSLATION - Understand?)

I nodded, that numb feeling slowly creeping it's way into my brain.

Elijah turned back around, put the car in drive and drove us the rest of the way to the estate. Once he was safely parked in the garage, neither one of us talked. I stumbled a little getting out of the car, but other than that I made a straight and uninterrupted beeline to my room.

I close the door, leaning my head against it as I exhale a shaky breath.

I'm terrified.

I'm already hurt, and now I'm about to be punished for lying? I may never walk comfortably again. Not to mention how much stronger they are. My brothers aren't weak by any means, but these people are jacked.

I sank down to the floor, curling my knees to my chest as I ran my hand over the floor, feeling the smooth wood beneath my fingers, occasionally running over a rough dip where one board ended and another began.

My name is Juliana Bianchi. I am 14 years old. I am in Florence, Italy. I am safe. I can contact Gino whenever I need to.

My name is Juliana Bianchi. I am 14 years old. I am in Florence, Italy. I am safe. I can contact Gino whenever I need to.

My name is Juliana Bianchi. I am 14 years old. I am in Florence, Italy. I am not safe. I can not contact Gino whenever I need to.

My name is Juliana Bianchi. I am 14 years old. I am in Florence, Italy. I need my brother.

I need my brother. I need my brother. I need Gino. I need Gino now.

I grunted when the door pushed open, slamming against my back, pain vibrating through my ribs.

"Oh merda, mi dispiace, Juliana. Non sapevo che fossi lì." Uncle Stefano apologised. (TRANSLATION - Oh shit, I'm sorry, Juliana. I didn't know you were there.)

I got up, grimacing as I stretched upwards. On the bright side, Uncle Stefano probably thought the tears in my eyes were from the pain, and not from the miniature panic attack that is still threatening to work its way out.

"I'm sorry. I knocked but you weren't answering. Sedere." He said motioning towards my bed. (Sit)

I sit down on the edge of my bed, criss crossing my legs like I was still in elementary school.

Uncle Stefano sat down at my desk chair, giving me a disappointed look that almost broke me. It gave me this little feeling that begged me to tell him the truth and promise that I would never lie again. Just so long as he never looked at me with that same expression.

"Juliana, one thing we do not tolerate in this house is lies. Especially not when something, or someone, threatening could potentially be involved." He waited, as though giving me time to speak, to rectify my mistake.

I didn't, though. Instead, I sat there, fully aware that I was about to bring hell down on myself.

"Since you've not been in trouble until now, I'm gonna let you off easy. I'm going to ground you. You can earn your freedom back by telling us the truth." Grounded? That's it? I haven't been grounded since I was like 6. What would that even entail? No electronics? I can live with that. No going out? Other than the ice rink and the hospital I haven't left the property.

"I will be keeping your phone and your computer. I'll disconnect your tv, and put a lock on your door. Grounded means you do not get to leave this room. There will be a guard to bring you breakfast and lunch, and you will join us for dinner. That's it. Do you understand?" His voice was stern and cold. Unlike the warm, silly tone I was used to.

I nod in acknowledgement. I'm not sure how to react to this. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than grateful because I am well aware that it could have been ten times worse, however I'm still sceptical because this just seems a little too... little.

Where is the other shoe?

Uncle Stefano gets up, takes a wire from behind my tv (which is mounted to the wall) and then starts to make his way out of the room.

"You know Juliana, believe it or not, we are just trying to keep you safe." And with that he left.

I lay back, uncrossing my legs so that they lay limp over the edge of the bed. I swear I only closed my eyes for a second, but the next time they open was because of my door being slammed shut.

I jerked up, looking around the room in a panic only to see what looked to be a guard standing on the other end of the room holding a tray of food.

'Well that was an embarrassing overreaction.'

Wait no. No, that's not just a guard.

I jumped away from him, falling off the bed unceremoniously as though anything was going to help now that we were alone together.

"What are you doing here?" I bit out as I staggered, trying to catch my balance while fighting away the dizziness that was currently plaguing my senses.

He gave a small sympathetic smile.

"Aww, princess, don't you know? I'm here to help you." Devon smiled sweetly at me, and a chill went through my bones.

"I don't need help. I'm sure you're of more use back home than anything." I whispered, tears already pricking at my eyes, though I knew they would only excite him more. He did torture people for a living.

I watched him get closer, and for a second I feared he was coming for me, however he simply sat the tray down on the desk, and then took a seat in the chair. He leaned back, stretched his legs out, and made himself comfortable before swivelling the chair to face me.

"I brought food." He said, motioning with his head to the plate on the desk next to him.

"Suddenly I'm not hungry anymore." It just slipped out before I could help it, and he let out a low whistle.

"Well, well. Seems like your time here got you a world of bad habits. Wouldn't you say? Attention seeking, mouthing off, lying... I know you're hungry. You haven't eaten in what? Two, three days?" He let out a manic laugh, before his entire demeanour changed. His eyes went cold, his body went stiff, he sat like he owned the place.

I should have known he was behind that little stunt.

"Come here." He demanded.

I didn't move.

"Oh come on Princess, don't be like that. You know what happens when I have to repeat myself." My feet moved before my brain did. Before I could process anything I was standing in front of him.

"Sit down." He leaned back again, patting his thigh and before I could give it a second thought I was sitting in his lap.

I stared down at the table, my hands clasped neatly in my lap. My back was straight, my legs crossed. However he didn't like that. He took his hand and shoved my left thigh off the top of my right. I let out a choke-like sob when he rests his hand on the apex of my thigh.

"Lean back." I am no longer in control of myself. I begin to question if I ever was. I seem to be good for nothing other than hanging onto the edge of his every word.

"Good girl." He praises softly, brushing some of the hair out of my face with his free hand. He takes his other hand off of my thigh, finally, and uses that to pick up the fork on the plate. I notice that it's steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

Great. Yet another meal I will never be able to eat peacefully again.

He stabs part of the already cut steak onto the fork and holds it up to my lips. I open numbly, taking it carefully off the fork with my teeth. I chew it repetitively, not tasting it. It feels almost like it's expanding in my mouth. Never quite breaking down small enough for me to truly swallow. It's a brick in my mouth.

Devon holds the glass of water up to my lips, and with the help of the liquid I was able to choke it down.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you." I whisper and he squeezes my stomach, but then lets out a disagreeable hmm.

"You're getting a little soft. Maybe you shouldn't eat tonight. You wouldn't want to let yourself go." He remarks, pulling the tray to the other side of the desk so it was away from me.

I stand up, naively thinking that he would maybe let me put some distance between the two of us when I am yanked back down into his lap.

Only my arm goes flying out on instinct, smacking hard against something behind that I can't see. Except that I have a good idea of what it could have been, seeing as the sound of flesh against flesh is pretty distinguishable.

I fell sideways off his lap, wincing when my hip slammed into the side of the table on the way down.

I stay down for a second, breathing through the pain before it registers in my brain what I've just done. I look up, terrified at what could await me.

Devon looked down at me with a malicious glare. I sat up slowly, like I was in the presence of a wild animal. Because maybe I was.

"I-" I started to say something. What? I'm not sure. Anything that could possibly help me right now.

Before I had time to get out another word, he grabbed me by the hair, and yanked me the rest of the way up. Once I was within reach, he grabbed the back of my neck and gave me a forceful shove forward.

Somehow, the very top part of me managed to cling onto my bed before I would have gone crashing to the ground.

Before I had the time to stand back up, his hand was on the back of my neck, again, as he pulled me so that I was fully bent over the bed.

"Waitwaitwait, stop, please, don't." I pleaded. Anything that comes next can't be good. Anything that leaves a mark would be impossible to explain, and anything that didn't...

"Don't what?" He yelled, shoving my head further into the mattress. "Don't retaliate when you just fucking hit me?" I let out a sob. It felt like he was going to break my neck.

"Please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear." I was already wheezing, gasping for breath, when his hands tightened, not completely cutting off my air, but just enough to make me panic. I let out this weird, guttural, choke-like gag, and suddenly I was glad that I hadn't eaten more than a bite of food.

Then, just as quickly as the pressure began, it ended. I coughed hoarsely, unaware, and simply uncaring, as to what Devon was doing now.

That was until I heard glass breaking.

I pushed myself up with one arm, just enough to get a good look at what was going on behind me. Devon had broken the glass holding the water, and was now holding up one of the bigger shards of glass, looking at me with a sadistic smile.

"This will have to do for now." He said simply, before advancing towards me.

This time I didn't freeze, I immediately jumped the rest of the way onto the bed. Once near the top of the bed I tumbled my way onto the floor, flinging myself underneath my bed in a last ditch effort.

And last ditch it was, seeing as something snagged hold of my ankle at the last second. Or should I say someone.

"Where do you think you're going?" Devon asked me as he pulled me the rest of the way out from under the bed.

I struggled this time, however it was no use. He easily lifted my shirt up, yanking the waistband of my trousers down and stabbed the shard straight down into my upper thigh.

I bit my lips together to stop the scream that resounded in my throat.

I made myself sit up, gasping shakily from the pain, when I heard his footsteps retreating. If anything to make sure that he didn't have any more plans for me.

I watched as he calmly picked up the shards of glass and threw a towel that seemed to appear out of nowhere over the spilled water.

It wasn't until he had gathered up the tray and started heading for the door that I finally allowed myself to relax.

I think the other shoe has finally dropped.

"Juliana." Devon called, and my breath caught in my throat as I glanced over to where he stood in the doorway.



"Your brothers say hi."



And with that he turned and shut the door.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heyyyy. I'm back. Sorry for the, once again, late update. But on the flip side, happy labour day!

Also, I literally broke my freaking ankle.

Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I tore one of my lateral something-and-another ligaments, and how I'm benched for literally half of my season. So that's fun.

Let me know what ya'll think, and if you have any comments or suggestions I would love to hear them!

I think ya'll will be pleased to know that I have a surprise planned for you.

Til next time!



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