Violent Little Thing.

Trigger Warning

This book contains a LOT of sexual content, torture, violence, guns, child abuse, reverse harem, "why choose," and more.

Nothing written should be taken lightly, and none of it is meant to be glorified. This book is not for everyone. It is a dark mafia romance with many twists and turns.

It’s an emotional rollercoaster. Are you ready for the ride?

Lilly

I don’t remember exactly when my body stopped aching from tireless nights spent on cold, hard floors, but it seems I’ve become accustomed to it. It’s comforting, almost. I could probably afford a mattress by now, but I choose not to. It makes me feel like I’m in control of my life. Like I wasn’t forced to run away from home, from everything I’ve ever known, and start again from nothing.

It’s my choice to sleep on the floor.

It’s my choice to live minimally.

It’s my choice.

It’s been five years since I started running. It was my eighteenth birthday, and my father gave me no choice but to flee. Five different cities, all of which ended with my brothers and father tracking me down and almost catching me.

This time, I was able to quickly secure a shitty motel room in an awful neighbourhood. It has four walls, a roof, a floor, and a lockable door, and that’s all I need right now. It’s a much better position than I’ve been in any other time I’ve had to restart. I’ve slept on park benches and eaten out of bins. I’ve begged for change on the streets to make ends meet. I was finally making progress, having a small place to crawl back to at the end of each shitty day. I’d grown to like this city.

But nothing ever lasts long.

I had to get the first bus out of there after I spotted my brothers standing by the car I’d bought, out front of the motel I’d been staying at. It was a stupid mistake on my part, thinking I could have a car without them tracking it to my location. I was meant to be doing a shift at Thrive that evening, a strip club where I’d landed a job dancing and occasionally bartending. Instead, I walked out that morning to find my father’s pride and joy leaning against my car, so casually, waiting for me to admit defeat and hand myself over to them.

Of course, I did no such thing and took off running before they could see me.

I ran forty minutes to Thrive, which, painfully, would’ve only taken fifteen in the car. The whole reason I wanted the stupid liability in the first place. I just needed to get my last paycheque before I left, so I had something to start with this time around. By the time I got there, my feet were a mess from running barefoot. Usually, I would’ve carried my death-trap high heels to the car and put them on once I’d clocked in, but I didn’t have that luxury this time. I got there late for my shift, a complete mess, but thankfully, the manager, Stacy, took one look at me and knew something was wrong. I hadn’t told her anything too personal before, but she knew I was in a bad position when I first stumbled into the bar asking for a job.

I had oversized, filthy clothes and a serious bird’s nest in my hair from not owning a brush. My shoes were falling apart, and I was so skinny at the time. She took pity on me, saying that we’d all been there once and everyone deserved a chance. She taught me how to dance, gave me some of her old outfits, and let me crash on her couch for a while once she learned I had nowhere to go. Later, she helped me secure a place of my own at the back of a motel, and I had saved up enough for a cheap, shitty car. Things were going too well until my past came back to bite me in the arse.

When I came stumbling into Thrive that night, apologising for being late, Stacy just silently pointed me to her office. She followed me down the hallway and closed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I can’t do my shift either… I need the week’s pay, and I’ve got to go,” I said.

“Look, darling, I’ve never pried before, and I’m not going to start now. I can see you’ve been through some shit, and you were in a real bad way when you first got to town. So as your friend, I’ve got to ask, where are you going to go?”

I took a long breath before saying, “I don’t know.”

“And how are you going to get there?”

“…I don’t know. A bus, maybe?”

“And where will you be staying?”

“I don’t know! Look, Stacy, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but this is really time-sensitive. I need the pay, and I need to go.”

“Okay, just slow down, love. I get it. I’ve known runners before. Someone, for some reason, has found you, and you’ve got to move on. But I can’t just let you run off into the wind, not knowing anything about where you’re going to go. We’re friends, okay? I like you, and I'm here to help. So I will help. Let me make a phone call to my brother. He owns the club and has several others in different locations. We’ll transfer you to another club so you can continue earning money. Then we’ll sort out a bus ticket and somewhere to stay.”

“You’re not going to ask why I’m leaving?”

“No. In my family, we’re raised not to ask questions we probably don’t want to know the answers to.”

I sat back and waited while Stacy made a phone call to her brother. It seemed like he didn’t ask many questions either, because it only took a few minutes before she hung up and told me he’d be happy to transfer me immediately, and that I could start tomorrow.

She gave me my week’s pay, drove me to the bus stop, kissed my cheek goodbye… and that was that.

It was time to run again. Hopefully, her brother is as lovely as she is.