The Begining of The End

Late at night, he crept into my room when everyone was sleeping. We all had separate rooms, so I was alone. I honestly wasn't expecting him, but I was glad he came. That was when he started properly.

We were sitting together, checking something on his phone, when he leaned in and almost accidentally kissed me—on the lips. Won't lie, I was anticipating it, too. We were sitting so close to each other—a little too close for someone I had been crushing on since the first day I laid eyes on him.

He hesitated for a moment, as if waiting for me to push him away. But instead, I looked up into his eyes, anticipation burning in mine. The kind of look that says, I want more.

"Do it again," I whispered.

Next thing, he was rubbing my breast. I felt embarrassed at first, my nipples hardening against my bra. Then, gently, he pulled down my left strap and put his mouth on me, kissing his way from my nipple to my neck. I let out a soft moan, my heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through my veins. His tongue traced my skin, teasing, tasting. We were soon kissing and grinding on each other hungrily, like we had done it a thousand times before.

I loosened up. I was already too turned on for my own good. I wanted to ask him to stop, but my body betrayed me.

"You want this," he murmured against my skin.

I didn't deny it. How could I? I edged him on, daring him to go further.

His right hand slipped beneath my sundress, fingers teasing my inner thighs before reaching my panties. He rubbed against my pubes, just about to touch my most sensitive spot—when we heard a noise. We froze. Then, realizing it was nothing, we carried on.

His fingers slid inside me, slow and deliberate. Even though it was risky, I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to stop him. Before we knew it, he had opened a condom. Like, this boy came prepared. LOL.

When he pushed the tip in, it felt like a rock had entered me.

I wanted to return the favor, to take him into my mouth, but he already had the condom on. And honestly? This boy had too big a dick for a 21-year-old. I was just 19.

I was wet like a waterpark, and Romeo was hellbent on drowning in it. He kept smacking my ass as he stretched me out, each stroke hitting deeper, each thrust more intense.

I wanted to scream, but all I could do was moan softly. He was an expert, hitting my G-spot with precision, again and again, until—

He came. And I came right with him, my release spraying over him as he painted my lower abdomen with his seed.

He looked even more ravishing, covered in my juices under the dim nightlight.

I wanted him even more. I wanted him inside me. I wanted to crawl into his skin, to consume him, to make love to him, to show him love. Too bad our love was forbidden.

But if he was Romeo, then I was his Juliet.

And he was my Romeo.

We should have stopped then. If we had known what was coming, we would have wrapped it up. But we didn't.

He gave me the best head ever. His tongue game was insane. I was about to return the favor, ready to suck his soul out through his cock, when—

BANG BANG BANG.

An angry knock.

We scrambled to dress, panic seizing us as my father, Satoshi, forcefully kicked the door open.

His face was a mask of fury, his breath heavy, his eyes wild with rage. Without a word, he started smashing everything in sight.

Usually, when he went into this psycho state, someone lost a life.

We knelt before him, trembling, begging for mercy, swearing we would never do it again.

"My goodness! The balls on this boy!" he roared, glaring at Romeo like he was about to rip him apart.

For a second, I almost laughed—unsure if he meant balls literally or figuratively. Because, truth be told, Romeo's balls were big.

Nobody fucks the capo's daughter right under the capo's own roof.

But Romeo wasn't just anybody.

He could do anything for this pussy.

And maybe that's what attracted me to him even more. He had the aura of a rebellious young lion, a ruler in the making. With Romeo, rules weren't just broken. They were shattered.

A slight twitch of a smile formed at the corner of my lips—

SLAP.

The first time my father had ever laid hands on me.

I didn't even feel bad about it. I had earned it. Besides, the sex was worth it.

Still, I let out a sob, playing the part, tears streaming down my cheeks as I begged for mercy.

Deep inside, though?

I was already fantasizing about the next time Romeo would come inside me.

"This is my goddamn daughter, you bloody bastard! Am I a joke to you?"

"Am I a joke to you?" he repeated, his voice sharp as a blade as he pulled off his belt.

He alternated between punching and whipping Romeo with it, landing blows across his face, his back. Blood smeared his lips as he gasped, begging for mercy.

I was sure—this man was going to kill him.

"I invite you to my house. I break bread with you. And this is what I get in return?"

"This?!" His voice thundered.

"Betrayal!"

He spat on the floor.

"Judas fucking Iscariot."

He wiped his mouth and turned to me, his voice eerily calm now.

"For the sake of your honor, I will not mention details of what happened here to a living soul."

Then he turned back to Romeo.

And my stomach sank.

I saw it in his eyes. Romeo wouldn't walk away from this.

"As for you, coward," my father said, his voice ice-cold. "I would have organized a meeting between you and your maker, but death is too forgiving. For you—"

His lips curled into a wicked smile.

"I have a fate worse than death."

He snapped his fingers, and the guards stepped forward.

"To the dungeons," he ordered, rubbing his fists like a high school bully about to wreck his prey.

Two burly men—each a former career bodybuilder with a face that could make an onion cry—grabbed Romeo by the shoulders, half-lifting him, half-dragging him across the floor.

A trail of blood followed them.

"A fate worse than death," my father whispered again, chuckling darkly.

Then—

"MUHAHAHAHAHAHA! TAKE HIM TO THE DUNGEON!"

And just like that—

Romeo's story had only just begun.

The beginning of the end.

The end of the beginning.