When Sofia Fernando storms out after a heated argument with her parents, she takes on a night of rebellion with her best friend Gabriella. Unfortunately the night takes an unfavorable turn. Drugged by a stranger at the club, the evening spirals into danger-until David, the ruthless leader of the Capon mafia, who was watching from afar steps in. But David's intentions are far from noble. Obsessed with Sofia, he will stop at nothing to make her his, no matter the cost. As Sofia becomes trapped in a web of dark desire, she must choose between fighting for her freedom or surrendering to a love that could destroy her. This isn't a typical love story. It's a dive into the dangerous depths of obsession, where love and madness coexist.
Sofia'S POV
"Are you going to eat that, or are you just gonna throw it away like everything else your mother and I gave you?" My dad scoffs, his voice stern.
The irritation inside me rises, feeling as if it'll spill over like a pot of boiling water. He jumps at me any chance he gets, and I'm fucking tired of it. He preaches about how he's given up everything for me, but he hasn't done anything but drown himself in alcohol for as long as I can remember.
I take a deep breath before simply saying, "I haven't thrown away anything, I appreciate everything you two have done for me."
I mostly mean my mother. I'm not too fond of her, either, but she's there when I need her.
My mother clears her throat. "Your father and I worked hard to get where we are today. We work countless hours to ensure your future, not for you to throw it away to become some artist? It's worthless. You're worthless."
Her words struck me like lightning. She's insulted me so many times, but tis just felt really different. Why would she call me "worthless"? The one thing I want from her is for her to see things from my perspective and respect my decision. It seems like I will never get that because she is incapable of seeing how much I long for her motherly love.
I scoff. "Worthless? If anybody's worthless around here, it's your deadbeat husband."
"Hey young ladyYou do not speak of your father that way. Do you understand me?"
Her sternness amuses me. "He's not my father. He never has been."
"Why couldn't you be more like Laura? She would never approach us with even an ounce of the disrespect that you do." She's a raging mess.
"Well, you know what? Laura's dead, so stop fucking comparing me to-"
My father slams both his fists into the dinner table. "ENOUGH!"
I jump at his sudden outburst, shutting my mouth immediately. His voice has always been able to put me in a trance of obedience. He's held this control over me since I was a little girl. He's used fear to keep me in line my entire life. I'm so sick of this.
My mother stares into the blank space on the table, her eyes glossy, and her lips quivering a bit. She's hurt - as she should be. It's her own fault, anyway. If she hadn't been such a controlling bitch, Laura would still be alive. Maybe I wouldn't feel so lifeless, either.
A tear falls from her eye. Usually, I start to feel guilty, or one of them slaps me to the ground. Instead, the room falls silent. I never say anything about Laura when they compare me to her, but I'm simply sick of it. Their comparisons are nothing but a constant reminder that I will never be as good as she was.
"Go to your room, and if I ever hear you mention your sister's name in vain again...there will be consequences."
I stand from my chair, defeated. "Fine, whatever. What more consequence could be worse than how you teat me" I stomp up the stairs.
I hate my life so much.
I plop onto my bed, unplugging my phone from its charger. It chimes, and the name 'Gabriella' pops up on my screen with purple hearts. Finally. She's the one person that's always been there when I need her, even if she doesn't realise it. I smile before answering.
"Girl, please tell me you've made up your mind. I do not want to go to this club alone," she groans, exaggerating the 'please'.
"I was literally just about to call you." I giggle.
She lets out an exaggerated gasp. "So, you're coming?"
'If you ask dumb questions, I'll change my mind," I tease.
"Okay, okay. I'll be there in 30."
"Yes, but when you get here, don't blow the horn," I remind her.
She reassures me she won't, and ends the call.
******************
My phone pings.
Gabriella: 10 mins away
I quickly grabbed my makeup bag and tried to apply very light make up, then i rushed to my wardrobe to find a dress i can put on. I have to hurry up because I know once Gab gets here and she doesn't see me outside, she'd begin to honk, and I do not want that.
As I creep down the hall, past my parents' room, loud obnoxious snores fill the halls. Definitely mom's. I doubt my dad is in there. He's probably slumped on the couch. Please be slumped on the couch.
I reach the stairs, holding my breath. The wooden floor boards squeak as I take my first step. The first few creak, but the fifth one is the loudest of them all. I leap over it, and stop in my tracks. There's glasses chiming against one another. My father pours himself a glass of poison. It's poison to him at least.
Slowly, I back my way up the stairs, a small creak echoing. Please don't notice.
I take inward deep breaths, hesitantly taking small steps back up. I'm almost back up the stairs when that fucking fifth step makes a noise. I immediately clear the rest of the stairs, hiding myself behind the wall.
"Shar, is that you?" His voice is groggy.
I peek at my father from behind the wall. He stumbles as he turns, gazing up at the stairs. "Sharlette." He slurs out again. He turns to place his glass on the island, but he drunkenly knocks it over. The glass clashes with the floor, shattering into tiny pieces.
"Ahh fuck!"
He stumbles down to pick up the pieces of glass, mumbling to himself.
My phone vibrates.
Gabriella: What are you doing, are you coming or not?
My father gets up to take the glass to the trash. Lucky for me, my mother likes to keep the trash can in the garage. He's gone, but he won't be for long. I sprint down the stairs, not caring about the noise they make. My father shouldn't hear me from the garage, anyway. My palms are sweaty and my heart is racing.
The safest option is the back door. I don't know why, it just feels that way. Once I'm out the door and over the fence, the soggy wet grass underneath my feet makes me cringe. My face contorts as mud and pebbles get between my toes.
Gabriella's car sits waiting for me across the road. It's white with a little glitter that sparkles under the street lights, and her headlights are the shape of hearts. She's been working on this car since she was sixteen, adding something to it nearly every week.
I run around to the passengers side of the car and get in. Gabriella starts to pull off, and we zoomed off.
"It's about to be a lit night!!!" Gab yelled.
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