They caught him. The fucking idiot.

I told Remi they would eventually catch on. Now look where he is. In a fucking cell. The Italian's are smart people, I don't know what he was thinking, sending that blabbermouth Juliana straight into the lion's den.

'Oh, we need her to familiarise herself with them. It'll make it easier to gain their trust' and blah blah blah. Look how that ended up. This entire operation has gone to fucking shit. Nine and a half years, all down the drain. And for what?

I watch, following silently, as Juliana walks through the yard. She's been acting weird the ever since she got back from the hospital. She seems to have completely forgotten all her manners.

Good riddance Zeke isn't a father yet, he would do horribly. If he had an ounce of sense in his brain, the minute Juliana started crying he should have put an end to it. A few good hits and she would have snapped right out of it.

Maybe not even that. If he had just taken two fingers and pressed on her collarbone, she'd have gotten the idea. Oh, the way she would squirm and grit her teeth as she tried to not make any noise. That new tube she has in her stomach could come in handy also. I can only imagine having somebody pull it out of her intestines wouldn't feel very pleasant.

I'm getting hard just thinking about it. The screams she would make. The little whimpers and pleas. She's any man's wet dream.

I follow Juliana as she, obliviously, makes her way into the ridiculously large playground they have set up in their backyard. The fact that they allow Justin to act with such immaturity is despicable. He's a young man, he should act as such.

I smile when I notice Juliana struggling to go up the stairs leading into the large playset. She's in pain. But with whatever mental state they've manipulated her into, she doesn't quite seem to understand why.

It makes me mad to see her act with such adolescence. She is fourteen, not four. We've trained her better. But it's okay. I just need to keep reminding myself that soon enough, she will be back where she belongs. There, she will be reminded of her place, and her current temperament will be corrected.

It's only a matter of time and then I will have my fun again.

Juliana's POV

"You should be more careful, little girl." The guard comments as he finishes taping the ice pack to my shoulder. "You could have really hurt yourself."

"Says the one who pointed a gun at my head." I mumble, reaching out and taking the crutch from him as I hop down off the bathroom counter. I'm getting pretty good at this hopping thing. Though the stairs were an interesting ordeal, I survived.

"Just doing my job sweetheart." He smiles at me as we, very slowly, make our way back into the main portion of my bedroom.

"So, Ryan, is it?" I ask, leaning my weight into the crutch which is situated under my left arm as I make a quick, small hop with my right leg. "It's Ryker." He mumbles the correction in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Were you at my house?" I ask curiously as I ditch the crutch, letting it fall to the ground as I free-hop the next few feet to my bed and plop down.

It's a rhetorical question, I know he was the guard snooping through my room that night. However I don't want him to feel as though I'm being demanding when I start bombarding him with the mile long list of questions I have for him.

"Yes, that was me. I'm surprised you noticed." Ryder doesn't sound too surprised, more bored with me than anything.

"How could I not? I mean, I ranted to you for a good five minutes before I caught you snooping around in my bathroom." I teased, noticing how Rick seemed to stiffen slightly as he began to understand how much I truly remembered from that night.

"But seriously, why are you here?" I ask, the teasing edge leaving my tone as I stare at Ruther, waiting for a response.

He's definitely taking his sweet time, thinking over his choice of words very carefully. Deciding I would give him a second longer to think of a reply, I motion to the chair across from the bed, asking that he take a seat.

He seems grateful for the momentary distraction, pulling the chair away from the desk and sitting down with a gracefulness I wish I possessed.

As he leans into the back of the chair, propping one leg up on the other's knee and folding his arms, one over the other, I couldn't help but take notice of the way his veins bulge, muscles on display. Or the way his tight fitting uniform stretched across his chest, accentuating his broad shoulders.

I think Rudolf may have taken notice of my staring because a sly smirk makes its way across his thick lips, exposing a slight dimple in his left cheek.

"I'm here because of you, principessa. It is my job to keep you safe, after all."

"And what part of 'protecting me' entails you familiarising yourself with my lavatory?" I ask through a tapering laugh, though I am genuinely asking.

It's as if I can't stay serious around Remington and his oddly fragrant cologne. It's an odd combination, and an even stranger one to describe. It's slightly smokey, yet very clean smelling.

"Who's your boss? And why did she ask you to go to my house? What were you supposed to be doing? Why were you in my room, because I know for a fact that my brother didn't ask you to do shit that night. Did he even know you were there? I doubt it. Not with-"

"Would you shut up? Or do you just like hearing yourself talk?" I promptly shut my mouth, choosing to ignore his previous comments, as I lock it and pretend to throw away the key.

"I have a lot of people that I answer to, but I was referring to Massimo, as he is the current Don."

"Oh so you're not just a guard you're a guard. Gotcha." I interrupt, earning a raised eyebrow from Ryland. "Okay, alright." I say, putting my hand up in mock surrender. "I'll shut up this time."

"As I was saying." Cue dirty look being thrown my way. "My bosses asked me to go to your house and keep an eye on the situation. I have no idea what your brother thought I was doing." He explains and I nod.

So I'll take that as an indirect way of him saying I am shit at keeping secrets.

"Okay but why were you in my room?" I enunciate, unsure if he's actually hearing the question I need an answer to.

Roman Noodles looks uncomfortable, shifting to look at the wall instead of me as he murmurs, "I was asked to set up cameras."

Wow. Talk about throwing trust out the fucking window. Who the hell puts cameras in someone else's room? Curious or not, you don't go invading someone's privacy like that. It's just not right.

I stay quiet, nodding my head, teeth gritted. I feel uncomfortable. Like there's eyes watching me. Is there a camera in this room too? Part of me wants to look around and check, but I know that if they didn't want me to see it, then I wouldn't.

"Just my bedroom though. Right?" I ask, and it feels wrong to say. But, if they can ask for camera's to be set up in my room, who knows where else they're willing to have me monitored.

And by Ryker's silence I'm able to gather that I really don't know my family as well as I thought I did.

"They originally asked for cameras to only be placed in your bedroom. That day you caught me was the day they asked for a camera to also be placed in your closet and your bathroom."

My eyelids flutter and I suddenly have the urge to just start crying. I expected this from someone like Jameson, but Uncle Stefano? Aunt Stephanie? Why would they allow Massimo to do that to me?

"I'm tired." I whisper. "So, if you could." I motion with my head to the door and Ryker says nothing. Just gives me a nod and begins making his exit.

"For what it's worth," He starts, turning to look at me. "I'm sorry. But they just wanted to know that you were safe."

I think he can tell I have no intent on answering, because with that he finally leaves, shutting my door firmly behind him. Standing on my good leg and turning to face the bed, I kneel on it, carefully waddling up to the headboard where I sit down, pulling to cover up to my chest.

I pull my knees up, wrapping my good arm around both my legs and the covers as I tilt my head back, leaning it against the wall. I guess I do need to be more careful about who I trust in this house.

It's been a long day, I think I've earned a nap.

But apparently Massimo doesn't. That has to be the only reason as to why he would have the audacity to wake me up not twenty minutes later. Like, could you have at least let me sleep until midnight? Or, I don't know, the morning?

Okay, maybe I am being a little dramatic, it has to have been way longer than twenty minutes if the fact that my room is now swamped in darkness and my clock is trying to tell me that it's almost 22:30.

I think it's just a gaslighter, because no way has it been nearly four hours.

"Juliana, come on you brat, I know you're awake." He demands, flicking me on the back of my head as I try to stay as still as possible.

"Huh." I hear him muse underneath his breath. "That one normally works."

Sensing his nearing defeat, the idiot behind me doesn't hesitate to reach around me and yank the pillow out from under my head, causing me to face plant into the mattress.

"Uhh, what the hell dude?" I groan, rolling onto my stomach and turning my head so I can properly glare at Massimo.

"That's no way to treat your amazing cousin who was nice enough to bring you dinner so you wouldn't have to worry about falling down the stairs, dude." He mocks, shoving a water bottle at me as he waves the tray he's holding in his other hand in my face.

Scrunching up my nose at the prospect of nutrients, I squish my face back into the mattress, hoping that if I stayed still enough he might forget I was here. Or I would turn invisible. Either one works.

Spoiler alert: neither one did.

"See, the others don't believe me when I tell them about how melodramatic you are when you're with me. If only they could see you now. How ungrateful." I can practically hear the eye roll in his tone as he hoists me into a sitting position on the bed.

Water bottle long forgotten, I try rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, as little as I got. Stifling a yawn, I look over to see Massimo has set a tray down on my bed, complete with a plate atrociously full with food, a bowl of fruit and silverware.

I watch as he reaches behind me to pluck the water bottle from beside my leg and he lays it down next to a gatorade I had yet to notice.

"I warned your dad there was no way you were even going to attempt to eat half of this, but he didn't listen to me. Don't worry, we don't expect you to eat all of it. Try, though. Because whatever you don't eat I have to report back to Elijah so we can try out your new handy-dandy g-tube tonight." Massimo rambles as he picks up the fork, handing it to me.

I don't even see what's on the plate, my mind still trying to catch up from me. Doesn't matter how much or how little sleep I get, if I take any semblance of a nap, it's game over for me.

Massimo is still rambling as I push the contents of the plate around, something nagging me in the back of my brain, but never truly making itself out to be clear thought.

"Why did you put cameras in my room?" I ask, dropping the silverware onto the plate with a loud clink, though it does sound kind of comical because the room goes completely silent afterwards. No need to mention that the only person speaking had been Massimo.

Massimo sighs, like he wasn't totally surprised this question was coming up, but like he didn't truly want to have this conversation.

"Look, Juliana, I'm not expecting you to be happy with the decision we made, but at the time it seemed like our best shot."

"In my fucking bathroom, Massimo? What the hell did you think I was doing?"

"It wasn't you we were worried about. He was strategic about the locations when he did things to you. The cameras in your bedroom proved nothing if he was dragging you into the bathroom everytime he wanted to punish you."

"It was none of your fucking buisiness." I snap.

If you asked the rational part of me, the part not condemned by anger, then maybe I would be able to reason with the fact that they were doing their best to protect me. That they possibly saved my life. But obviously, that is not the part of my brain being used at the moment.

"Would you rather we have never found out and left you there?" At this point I can tell Massimo is getting nearly as frustrated as I am, and I really don't know what to say.

"I hate you." I see Massimo freeze before he calmly takes in a deep breath, collecting himself, before he calmly replies,

"No, you don't. You're just upset, and you're lashing out."

"I am not." I snap, his words only further fueling my irrational anger. "I wish you weren't my cousin." Massimo's lips press tightly together, and I can see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry if you feel that way. But all I ever wanted to do was protect you."

There have been few moments in my life where my mouth has gotten so ahead of my brain that it said something completely irreversible. Most of them being when I was younger, and still trying to learn what a filter was.

I had that trait beaten out of me pretty quickly, though there were still times that I found myself completely unable to do anything but sit and watch as the consequences of my completely inappropriate words unfolded before me. And this? This counts as one of those times.

"Well then I guess you and Jameson have something in common because he always told me the exact same thing."

The second the words have come out of my mouth I regret them. I watch Massimo's shoulders tense up as an audible intake of breath sounds from him. His jaw clenches and I swear I see his entire body flinch a step away from me.

"Make sure to eat, and I will see you tomorrow." He whispers, voice rushed and tense, before promptly spinning on his heel and practically running out the door.

I open my mouth to say something, but it's already too late. I can do nothing but stare at the closed door, wishing I could call him back over here and take back everything I said.

I know I went too far, so why did I say it? He didn't ask for that, nor did he deserve it. He and Jameson are nothing, nor will they ever be anything, alike.

I sigh, pushing the tray away from me as I grab my pillow, hugging it to my chest and looking down at it like it holds all the answers in the world.

"I'm not Gino." I whisper to it. "I'm not Gino, so why am I acting like this?"

Remembering the now liquid ice pack that Ryker had taped to my shoulder, I find the strap, ignoring the pain as I yank on it until it comes loose.

Sliding it over my head, I manoeuvre my way out of my sling as well. I really don't know what purpose it holds other than to annoy me.

Tossing it to the floor on the other side of the bed I curl up into a ball, letting myself plop down on my left side. I no longer care if I make a mess of the food on my bed. I just want to sleep.

But I can't

It's like my brain has decided that now that I've done something I truly want to avoid, I should be wide awake to bask in every painful, regretful moment of it. Thanks brain, love you so much.

And of course a few minutes later, because this family just does not understand how to let me wallow in my own misery, there's another knock at my door.

Groaning into my pillow, I contemplate just pretending like I'm asleep. I mean, who is sadistic enough to wake up someone when they're sleeping? Elijah, that's who. Or Elliot. Or Angelo. Or Makayla. Let's just face it, everybody in my family is sadistic bastards.

I feel the bed dip with the weight of someone sitting down on it. They sit there for a moment, likely staring at me like a creep. Great, so the person who came into my room isn't just sadistic, they're a creep also. A sadistic creep.

"Hey little lady, can we talk for a minute?"

Oh whoops. Never mind, I guess Uncle Stefano is the exception. He's less sadistic, more creepy. But not creepy creepy. So, I guess he's just a little weird.

Should I be calling my uncle weird? That seems rude. Oh well, until he learns to read minds I think I'm okay.

"I'm good." I say, though it's a little muffled by the pillow. Uncle Stefano starts lightly rubbing and patting my back, probably making sure I'm not trying to go back to sleep. I lean forward, trying to get it across that I don't want him to touch me right now.

"Juliana, I heard you've been a little upset today. Can we talk about it?" Uncle Stefano tries again, and this time I flat out ignore him.

"Alright then, I'll talk." He suggests, and gaining no response from me, he takes it as a sign to start speaking. "I understand that this situation is stressful. It would be hard on anybody, and we just want to help you, okay? We're not your enemy."

Okay? And? Why does he think I care? The longer he persists, the more my aggravation starts to stir.

I try to keep it down, I really do. I know that he doesn't deserve to be lashed out at, and with the current amount of people I've hurt tonight, I really don't need to be adding him to that list.

"I completely understand that you may be overwhelmed, or even angry at the circumstances. But please don't shut us out."

"It's your fault anyway." I grumble, not meaning for it to be heard. But when Uncle Stefano pauses, I'm sure he's understood.

"Okay... What do you mean by that? Talk to me, please." He requests, not jumping to conclusions.

And for some reason, that shit only pisses me off worse. Like, could he not have just listened to me the first time? Why does he always have to push? What's so wrong with saying: 'okay, I can see you don't want to play nice with others right now.' and leaving?

"I mean, it's your fucking fault." I snapped, sitting up and twisting so I could see him. "None of this would be happening if you hadn't stuck your fucking nose where it didn't belong. Everything was perfectly fine until you decided it wasn't."

Uncle Stefano doesn't react immediately. Instead he takes a moment, face impassive, to just look at me.

"So everything was perfectly fine with Jameson, huh? You were 'perfectly fine' with the events that took place in that house?"

"Would you just shut up?" I'm at a loss for words. Not because he was wrong, but because he was right on the money. "You know nothing." The words come out as a whisper, all the bite behind my previous words disappearing.

"Then help me understand. I just want to help you."

"Help me." I laugh, rolling the opposite direction and standing up off the bed. I ignore the pain in my ankle as I pace over to the side of the room opposite the bed.

Reaching the wall I turn on my heel, seeing Uncle Stefano sitting quietly, waiting. He glances at my ankle, the look in his eye telling me he's not too happy with me walking on it, but he's not going to say anything right now.

"You can't help me. You've already fucked it up too much." I press my back against the wall, crossing my arms in front of me, glad I have taken off the sling. The pain was just about the only thing keeping me grounded.

"I was fine." I reiterate to him. How can he not see it? "Was it always the most ideal situation, no. But I learned how to survive. I learned how to live with him. Four more years. That's all I needed and I'd have been free from him."

"Is that what you think?" Uncle Stefano asks, standing up and walking towards me. At first I think he's coming to stand in front of me but instead he stops and takes a seat at the end of my bed.

He folds his hands neatly in his lap, staring at me the entire time as though he could see straight through me. Into every lie I've ever told myself, picking through every single insecurity I have, practically drawing the truth from my lips.

"Are you really naive enough to think that after you turned eighteen he would just let you go on and live your life? However you wanted to? Wherever you wanted to?" The way Uncle Stefano is looking at me makes me feel like an absolute idiot. Of course I never truly expected Jameson to let me go. But a girl can dream, right?

"He would have killed you, Juliana. And that's betting on the best case scenario."

"I know that, okay?" I grit out, leaning forward slightly. Why doesn't he understand? "I know that he would have killed me eventually, I was planning on that."

"So you would rather he killed you?" Uncle Stefano isn't one to raise his voice, but I think I'm about to experience what it means to be on the receiving end of it.

"Yes. What about that can you not understand?" My voice breaks slightly, and a borderline psychotic laugh escapes my lips as I lean backwards towards the wall again.

"I don't do well in school, the only thing I have going for me is figure skating and I'm not even good at that. My entire life has completely revolved around learning how to please Jameson, and then mimicking Jamie's responses to social situations.

"If it had been up to Jameson, I'd have never left the house. He would have kept me locked up and been happy doing so. One less problem for him to worry about. I am well aware that the only reason he didn't put a bullet through my scull is because he made too much fucking money off me.

"My body is just about the only thing I know how to use so I'm sure you can imagine what path that's eventually going to lead me down. And quite frankly I don't want that." My voice calms as I talk Uncle Stefano through the fact that I was never meant to make it in the real world.

My life has always revolved around Jameson, and it always will. I'm too stupid for much else. Though, I guess that's what happens when you're more focused on surviving the night than passing a history final.

Uncle Stefano has no immediate reaction, though his eyes contradict that claim in a thousand different ways.

"Juliana. Whatever you want to do with your life is your decision now. If you're a little behind in school, we'll get you a tutor. We are going to make sure you have every possible resource to have the best life ahead of you. Whatever that may look like."

I shake my head, unable to fight the tears as I let out a choked laugh.

"I-" I press my lips together, looking up at the ceiling as though it held the answers to my problem. "I have seen what life has to offer. And I don't like it." I explain slowly.

Uncle Stefano immediately starts shaking his head as he stands, walking towards me. When he finally does reach me, I'm tense, an irrational part of me warning my body to be prepared. But he simply hugs me.

The dam breaks as my body begins to wrack with sobs. Uncle Stefano just holds onto me, pressing my head into his chest. He doesn't try to reassure me, or get me to stop crying, but lets me feel what I'm feeling.

We stand there for I don't even know how long before he pulls back, using his thumbs to wipe away the wetness from under my eyes.

"Whatever you've seen, and whatever you've been put through, that is not living." He looks straight into my eyes, making sure I'm paying close attention to every word coming out of his mouth.

"And I'm sorry that anyone ever made you think that life wasn't worth experiencing, but it is. And there is so much you don't know about, and it would be such a shame if you weren't here to explore it."

I understand what he's saying, truly, I do. But I am just so tired. I am tired of having to constantly relearn what it means to exist. I am tired of never being happy, and I'm tired of hurting people.

"There must be a lot to life." I joke lamely, trying to take the edge off. To his credit, Uncle Stefano does give me a little laugh. Well, I'm calling it a laugh. It was halfway between a large exhale of breath and chuckle.

"Yeah, there is. There really is. And we're going to show you." The last part of his sentence has my ears perking up, if not due to the pure determination he said it with.

Stepping back and holding out his hand for me to take, he leads me back to the bed, guiding me to sit down where I last was.

"I understand that you may not think life is worth living right now, so let us teach you. Let us show you all of the fun, wonderful, sad, and crazy parts of life. "And why each and every one of them is important. Can you do that for me? Can you let us show you that?" He asks, leaning over me while I sit on the bed, a little dumbfounded.

Looking into his eyes and seeing the pure, unbranded hope, I feel almost compelled to say yes.

"I guess?" I whisper and again I'm pulled into another hug, though this one feels like more out of relief than anything.

"Good." Uncle Stefano murmurs into my hair, before pulling back with a mischievous smirk. Tilting my head to the side, kind of nervous at the sudden change in his demeanour, I don't even get the chance to open my mouth before Uncle Stefano has launched himself over my head, onto the other side of the bed.

My mouth pops open, either out of fear that this man practically front flipped over my head, or astonishment that he didn't crack a bone while doing it. I hear old people are more susceptible to things like that.

"Uncle Stefano!" I gasp, turning and letting out a series of giggles when I see the top half of his body sprawled across the bed, the other half hanging off, as he gave me an upside down grin.

Rolling to lie on my stomach, I hug my pillow, observing my Uncle as though he were a zoo animal as he follows foot.

Letting out a big breath, Uncle Stefano plops his head onto the pillow. "I'm getting too old for this." He complains, trying to catch his breath. This only sends me on another round of giggles.

When I finally calm down, the two of us just lay there, enjoying the newfound pact we just made.

"So, what should we do tomorrow?" He asks, making me hum thoughtfully.

"I dunno.'' I say with a slight shrug of my good shoulder. Uncle Stefano just huffs, flicking my forehead as he thanks me for being absolutely no help.

"How about, I make a list of fun activities we need to do before the summer is over, and you can add anything you'd like, then we just go down the list?" He asks and I nod my head before furrowing my eyebrows.

"Isn't that just a bucket list?" I ask and Uncle Stefano shrugs, making an unsure noise in the back of his throat. "Sure. Why not?" I sigh, rolling onto my back.

"I said some awful things to a lot of people today." I murmur, placing my hand on my forehead as I stare up at the ceiling." I hear Uncle Stefano hum in agreement, which makes me feel even better about the situation.

"Yeah, you did. But you wanna know one awesome thing about life?" He asks, as I turn my head to lock eyes with him.

"What's that?"

"It moves on." He says in a stage whisper, causing a slight smile to crack my lips. "And with it, so do we. Tomorrow is a new day, and I'm sure it's nothing that can't be fixed with a good 'ole apology."

Releasing the breath I had been holding from anticipation, I let my hand fall back down onto the bed, rolling my eyes playful. "Hmm, I guess." I drawl, giving him a lopsided smile.

"But I'm sorry, by the way. None of this is your fault. And I guess you're not totally clueless."

"Aww, thank you. Wait, totally?" He asks, snapping his head in my direction as I let out another round of giggles.

"Hold on, what's that supposed to mean little lady? Huh?" He asks, wiggling his finger around a spot right underneath my ribs, making me squeal.

"Stop it." I gasp between giggles, trying to swat away his finger. This isn't fair, he has two hands and I don't.

"Not until you tell me what you meant." He demands, propping himself up into a position where he could use both of his hands to assault my stomach.

"Never!" I scream between laughs.

------------------------------------ Who POV was at the very beginning of the chapter?

Also, you guys better love me.

I should have been doing school work but I procrastinated- I mean worked super hard on this update for you instead

I think this might actually be a new record for me. I only made you wait four days for the update instead of the usual ten. 😂