Belle’s life has been hard. Not only did her father despise and beat her, but he also sold her for the gratification of disgusting old men. After years of putting up with this abuse, she’s finally managed to escape, only to catch the eye of Mafioso Lorenzo Calabria, who captures her and forces her into his world of pain, cruelty, and corruption. Will she survive and come out stronger, or will the darkness consume her forever?
Age Rating: 18+ (Rape, Sexual Abuse, Incest, Violence, Kidnapping)
Back into Darkness by Delta Winters is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.
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1
From the author of Not All About You.
Belle’s life has been hard. Not only did her father despise and beat her, but he also sold her for the gratification of disgusting old men. After years of putting up with this abuse, she’s finally managed to escape, only to catch the eye of Mafioso Lorenzo Calabria, who captures her and forces her into his world of pain, cruelty, and corruption. Will she survive and come out stronger, or will the darkness consume her forever?
Age Rating: 18+ (Rape, Sexual Abuse, Incest, Violence, Kidnapping)
Original Author: Delta Winters
“Hey, sexy, you brought me lunch, can I bring you dinner?” the customer flirts, reaching out to touch my hand with his greasy one.
I smile politely. Although I'm disgusted at his sly smirk and awful pickup line, tips are what I live on. I remove my hand from his reach to act as if I need to use it to hold my tray.
“That's a sweet offer, but I'm having dinner with my boyfriend,” I reply, clearing his table.
I send him another friendly smile and turn back to the kitchens with the clutter of white ceramic plates and diner milkshake cups.
I feel a spank on my ass and, instead of confronting the fucker who assaulted me, I scurry away like a little mouse.
“Hey, Baby Belle, you okay? You look distressed,” Jeremy, the owner's son, greets, pulling me into his side with his arm draped over my shoulders.
He's worked at this diner for seven years and plans to take it over from his father, my boss, very soon. It's handy that we have an amiable relationship.
With my height of 5'0, he, as many, seems to tower over me, however his affable attitude makes him less intimidating.
“It's nothing, J,” I mumble, giving him a reassuring look before hurrying off into the kitchens, out of his hold, to dump my plates in the sink. I hover over it, clutching its sides to breathe through my crushing anxiety.
“Belle, babe, can you cover my night shift tomorrow?” a female voice inquires, coming up from behind me and leaning against the sink.
“Tomorrow night?” I ask, a thoughtful expression on my face as I reassess my schedule. I barely have a schedule though.
“Yeah, it's the slowest night anyway, there's only one other waitstaff so I thought, you know, you could help me out? You can keep the tips but Harry needs someone on.”
She wears a fake pleading smile paired with puppy dog eyes that don't really work on me.
Instead, I agree because I'm in crushing debt, unable to keep up with the insane rent in my dingy one-bedroom apartment.
New York prices are incredibly steep, and with my lack of qualifications and having not even graduated high school, the ability to get a well-paid job is very low.
This will be the best job I can get, and I'm still struggling to make ends meet.
“Sure, yes, don't worry about it,” I tell her, resisting the persistent urge to roll my eyes at her false grin.
“Thanks, babe. I'm off now, so see you later.” She whips her head around, her blonde hair spraying into my gaping mouth, and I spit it up without her noticing.
“Ew,” I mutter, fixing my chocolate brown hair again and flattening out my apron before cleaning up the front.
Jeremy closes up the diner with a few of us left and takes a seat at one of the tables, shuffling dollar bills in his fingers from the register.
He huffs, his head flopping into his hand in defeat and he rakes his hand across his face.
“You okay?” He glances up, his expression lifting as he gestures for me to take a seat by him.
“Nowhere to be, Baby Belle?” he asks with a little smirk, leaning closer to me and slamming the money box shut.
“The longer I stay out of my apartment, the better,” I respond with a chuckle, fiddling with my fingers as I lean back in my chair.
“Why's that?”
“There are noises in the pipes. The water pressure sucks. There are springs bursting out of my mattress. You have to turn the light switch on and off three times before the lights come on. I have no idea why. There are various reasons,” I rant but laugh when I notice the horrified look on his face. “Sorry. I should be heading back anyway. It's getting pretty late.”
“Yeah, Belle, I'll walk you back if you want. You definitely shouldn't be walking home alone,” he offers with a wide smile. “I need to get some air anyway. We're having a few money issues.”
“Oh, really? You get so much business in here,” I exclaim, furrowing my eyebrows at his surprising problem. I would have thought this place is doing well.
“Yeah, we do, but we have other expenses,” he murmurs, grabbing his coat from under the light blue counter and placing a hand on the small of my back.
Guiding me out and locking up behind him, we begin to stroll down the sidewalk, him keeping me close to his side.
A couple of guys wolf whistle and wink at me and I roll my eyes, leaning further away from their side of the sidewalk.
“You must get guys looking at you like that all the time.”
“Sometimes, I guess. But men are men,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“Well, you do have big beautiful blue eyes, but not all men are the same,” he says, stopping in front of my apartment complex and staring down at me. I glance down a little shyly but he lifts my chin with his slender finger so that my eyes would lock with his own. “You have a boyfriend, Baby Belle?”
“No,” I breathe out.
“Good,” he mutters before leaning in and engulfing my lips in his, a soft and gentle kiss. He presses for more but I abruptly back away, my eyes widen at him. My love life is little to none, with the occasional kiss here and there but nothing serious. “I'm sorry. Was there something wrong?”
“N-no. I was… um, I was just surprised, really,” I stammer. His hands still clasp my waist still, his head cocking to the side in confusion.
“I didn't really think it would be surprising to you, but I like you,” J confesses, squeezing my waist lightly. I stand there, gaping a little. I didn't really see us like that, although maybe I should have. I like him, as a friend, but it could be more. I'm just quite vulnerable, and I'm afraid to open up and be with someone. I don’t trust easily and honestly, I find it difficult to even trust J, although he’s seemingly a sweet guy. Aren’t they the ones to watch out for? “Belle?”
“Um… I don't know what to say,” I answer, slightly speechlessly.
“Go on a date with me?” He looks particularly hopeful, moving his hands from my waist into my own hands.
“Sure, okay,” I consent. His face lights up, kissing my cheek in a goofy way and bidding me farewell.
I stare after him, slouching down onto the side of my building and hugging my legs to my chest. J is a good guy, and could possibly be a great boyfriend, but I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to date.
I'm twenty years old and I've never had a boyfriend. There are several reasons for that, and perhaps I should apply them now.
It's just a date though. One date. Then again, I work for him; he's my boss technically. If we don't work out, it would be awkward to see each other every day.
Maybe I should have said no, but that would still create a strange dynamic between us.
Maybe I should have kept away entirely so he couldn't ask me, refused politely his offer to walk me home, or not asking how he was and just leaving when most of the others did.
But the owner, J's father, pays me more than the other waitstaff for all the extra hours I do. And J and his father have done so much for me.
I twist my keys several times in the lock, attempting to open my front door but, as usual, it doesn't budge.
“Hey, darling,” creepy Steve from next door says, leaning against the doorway with his eyes raking up and down my body.
“Hi, Steve,” I politely reply, shoving my key once again in the lock in a sense of urgency. I focus on the lock, breathing through, hoping this time, the door will magically open. I gasp as I feel arms swoop over me, trapping me against the door. My shoulders against his chest, his hardness pressing into my back. He takes my hand with the key in it and unlocks the door, using me as his puppet.
As the door swings open, he pushes me inside from behind. He kicks the door closed behind us, his hands on my hips as he backs me up against a wall.
The smell of smoke envelops my senses as I squirm against his chest, pushing him back a little.
“Please, stop.” He does as I say, stopping right in the same position, looking down at me with a sly smirk. His hand grabs my neck, pulling my head back to slam against the wall. My mouth opens involuntarily and he shoves his tongue down my throat, crushing me with his body up against the wall. I continue to struggle, my breathing erratic and shallow, my whimpers muffled by his mouth. He breaks away and swiftly leaves, not before sending me one last smirk and wink.
My back slides down the wall, my body falling lax into the floor. I detest being so weak. Why am I an easy target? I just want to be left alone, I just want to forget.
And yet, it always becomes impossible.
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2
Carrying my baseball bat with both hands, resting it against my right shoulder and my eyes wide in alert, I flick the light switch of my star bedside light and scramble out of bed.
Creeping along my own floor, I swiftly tip-toe towards my kitchen, towards the noise. It could just be the pipes again, or I could be robbed again.
My grip around the bat tightens as the sound gets louder.
“Meow,” a faint noise purrs and I immediately flip the switch to be greeted with a fluffy ginger cat scurry to claw at my feet. I let out a huge sigh of relief although the gnawing on my skin begins to draw blood. I pry the cat from the floor and release it out the backdoor.
It came in through the battered window I had to board up with cardboard a week ago and now that's been broken through. I duck tape the cardboard to the window again, sealing it as best as I can to not let the cold night air flood in.
As the sun beams through the cracks in the drapes, falling onto my face, giving me some much needed warmth, I roll out of bed.
Dressing in my turquoise waitress dress, I fix two front strands of my hair behind me into a princess braid. I open up my front door, cautious of my unabashed neighbors.
The apartment to the left of mine houses a stripper who brings home a guy at least once a day and animalistic moans and groans resonate through the thin walls.
The thump of her bed also creating a similar rhythmic thump in my head. I get through a pack of painkillers every fortnight. Any more and I'm afraid I'll start becoming hooked on the pills.
A hand wraps around the top of my arm, squeezing and dragging me into the apartment to my right. He spins me around and shoves me up against his flaky wallpapered wall.
The little flecks fall into my hair as he slams me up against it again, keeping me there. He breathes right in my face, his head angled downwards at me.
“Belle,” he whispers, the corners of his lips upturned. He gropes my ass with both his hands under my skirt and I gasp, ultimately breathing in some more of his air. Sliding my panties down roughly, one hand starts to unbuckle his belt.
“Will you please stop?” I ask in an incredibly small voice that I consistently scold myself for being so weak. In response, he chuckles darkly, taking out his erect length and stroking it. “I have work.” He scoffs, narrowing his eyes at me in confusion, still with his cunning smirk.
He stares at me deeply, grabbing my jaw sharply. “I'll come back after,” I say innocently, in a soft voice to not aggravate him.
My chest heavily pulses up and down as he searches my eyes pushing his member against my skirt to get closer to me. My hand moves to cup his cheek and I feel him lean into it slightly.
“Where do you work?” he questions.
“I'm a waitress at the cafe on 50th,” I lie, pouting a little, pleading with the gods this would work. I'm definitely moving after work. I don't need anything that's not in my bag, it's contents being my ID, purse and cheap cell.
I sniffle slightly, maintaining eye contact. I would be more scared if this was the first time something like this has happened, however the devastating anxiety and panic attacks I get consume me for months.
I'm trembling, my nails scratching at my own skin in anxiety. I tend to scrape and scratch anything I can whenever I want to breakdown.
Then he releases me. His arm breaks away from the side towards the door and I rush through it, hurtling down the stairs and flying out of the entire building.
I contain my tears as I scurry to work, still reeling from what just happened. He's only been living there for two weeks and I'm going to have to move for the fifth time this year.
It'll be to another crummy apartment that I can never promptly afford and they'll be another incident to scare me away, whether it be the neighbors or there's a flood or a police raid of the whole building.
All of those have happened.
I prayed that my life would be looking up, and indeed, I'm living a more free life. Maybe it is better. Much better than before.
I was drowning, I could never come up for air, was suffocated by my father. And now I'm out of the water, I'm breathing again. But still barely.
As I enter the diner, J's animated face smiles at me and I attempt once again to push everything that has happened last night and this morning down deep inside.
“Morning, Baby Belle,” he greets, hugging me to him. A tear slips through my grasp, and as one falls, they all do, drenching my cheeks. When he feels dripping onto his shirt, he pulls me back and his eyes widen at the sight.
He drags me into the storeroom, holding both my shoulders as he gets on one knee to be closer to my height. “Belle, what's wrong?” I shake my head frantically, almost scratching my eyes out as I harshly rub the tears away from my face. “Belle?”
“Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired,” I sob, covering my eyes with my hands in embarrassment. I hiccup a little and his hands grasp mine, yanking them away from my eyes.
“Belle, tell me what's wrong. I know something happened,” he commands in a strong but gentle voice.
“I h-have to m-move,” I stutter, my eyes darting everywhere but his face.
“Why?”
“My n-neighbor, he's… he… dragged me into h-his place a-and…” I find it difficult to say anything more, trying to steady my breathing.
“He what, Belle? Did he touch you? Rape you?” he coaxes in a soft tone.
“H-he… groped me and-and I told him that I would come b-back after work. H-he asked where I worked and I-I lied. I c-can't go back. He'll…” He stands up and tugs my head into his chest, stroking my hair. I cry into his shirt before deciding that enough is enough. No more tears. He didn't even manage to do anything yet, and I have to be grateful that he didn't, that he let me go. I pull back from J and breathe through it, pushing it down like I've done so many times before. This is no different.
“You can stay with me, okay? I can go get your stuff from your apartment,” he tells me, pressing his lips against mine. “You don't have to work today.”
“I'll just find a new apartment, you don't have to take me in. I'll be okay.”
“Until you find the apartment, you're staying with me,” he states, looking at me sternly as to tell me not to refuse.
“Okay, but I'm working,” I state, composing myself. I nod to him and give him a forced smile. I exit the room with him following behind and his dad calls him over to check something.
“Wow, I didn't know you were like that,” Katie exclaims, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “You and J? I knew that whole innocent thing wasn't really you.”
“Nothing was happening,” I mutter, shuffling away to wait on my first table.
By the night shift, I'd worked for fourteen straight hours, and everything this morning has almost been forgotten.
J and Harry, the owner, had told me I should take a break but gave up after the ninth hour.
At closing time, there's only J, Harry and I left in the diner, me wiping down tables as the two dispute over the register.
“How the fuck are we coming up with that?” J hisses to his father, smashing his fist on the table.
“10K, it's not possible,” Harry responds, shaking his head in frustration.
The bells above the diner door rings and I glance up to see five large men dressed in blacks and greys and navys.
They are covered in tattoos, a few with scars on their faces and most with dark features.
One man peaks my interest, giving me the inability to look away.
His piercing honey eyes and black messy hair compliment his dark aura, his scruff and devious smirk making him more intimidating, yet alluring.
He could be a male model if he didn't reek of darkness, it flooding out of him. He's the only one wearing a suit among them, a black suit with a black shirt.
He's yet to see me, focusing his gaze on J and Harry. He holds an air of dominance and forces submission upon everyone he meets.
Harry appears as though he wants to wet himself, his knees knuckling under him a little, making him clutch the counter.
J looks slightly less domineered, however his face twitches in the annoyance of the men's presence.
The men take a seat at a table, the suit man leaning back in his seat as he gestures Harry to take the last seat at the table.
“Let's get a drink, huh?” suit man announces, his voice deep and smooth, the undertone incredibly dominating and commanding.
“Waitress?” I scurry over, J's eyes going wide and as the suit man actually looks at me, his eyes widen too, a smirk growing on his face. “Get me six black coffees and then come sit on my lap, gattina.”
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