Chapter 13 Safe

MERA (VERA) “It's okay, Vera; you're okay. You're safe now. It was just a nightmare. You're okay,” I whispered to myself as I scooted up on the bed to lean on the headboard. My entire body was covered in sweat, and I was still trembling. My ears were still ringing with my baby's cries as my father ripped him from my arms and handed him over to the orphanage staff. I looked down at him before slowly leaning in for a gentle kiss on his forehead. As I looked at how angelic he looked, a smile broke through the tears on my face. Before him, I had no idea it was possible to love someone so much. If this was how parents felt about their children, how could my father have even considered taking him away from me? Would he have allowed someone to take me away from him? All because he disapproved of the father? How was I supposed to continue after that? My father knew who my baby's father was. My stepfather was the only one who did not know. My father thought it was best that I stick to the story that I didn't know when it came to her because he didn't want her interfering with his plans to give my baby away, which I didn't think she would. But he was obviously unaware of this. He assumed she cared and loved me because that is how she always behaved in his presence. My mother died giving birth to me eighteen years ago, leaving my father to raise me alone. We lived together until I was seventeen and he remarried. Everything was fine, and I was glad to have a mother figure in my life, but her love was not as genuine as I had hoped. She was with my father for a year before they married, and six months later, her behavior toward me changed dramatically; she revealed her true colors. My stepbrother, Alain, moved in with us, and I became his personal slave. Alain was three years older than me and forced me to clean up after him and run his errands whenever he wanted. When I spoke with my stepmother, she always brushed it under the carpet, and when she couldn't, she made me feel like I was the wrong one, the unwelcoming one. She made it appear that I was unkind to Alain because it was my home. I still loved her back then because she had always been good to me, or so I thought, and I did not want to upset her. I considered the possibility that she was correct and it was my fault. So I stopped complaining and tried to reassure Alain that I didn't hate him and that we were family, hoping that he would stop feeling unwelcome. But he would not stop, and one day I had enough and stood up to him. I quickly regretted it, though, because the next thing I felt was a stinging cheek and ringing ears after he slapped me across the face. My father was returning home the next day, and that was the first thing I told him when he arrived. It was a huge mistake because everything went downhill after that. My stepmother spun the entire situation around to make it appear like an accident, and my father believed her. He was completely blind to her wrongdoings. When he left again for a business trip, Alain and her mother took things to the next level. My stepmother became aggressive toward me, not only turning a blind eye to Alain's abusive behavior but also making it clear that she despised me and that if I ever said anything to my father, she would have him killed. I never thought she could pull something like that off, but a month later, my father was involved in a car accident and survived. Later that evening, she came to me and informed me that the next time he would not survive. I was shattered and assumed it could not get any worse, but I was wrong. On my eighteenth birthday, my father and I had a fight. I had expected him to be home for my birthday, but he could not make it. I was tired of being surrounded by people who despised me, so I drank for the first time. I was turning eighteen, after all. I reminded myself. The next morning, I awoke in my bed with no idea how I got there, but that was not the worst of it. The worst part was that I was naked and no longer felt like a virgin. I tried but could not recall the previous night's events. The only thing I remembered was sitting and talking with Logan, who had surprised me earlier in the night by offering me a drink. Logan Grey was Raphael Grey of Grey Corporation's son. Raphael, his father, was a billionaire and reputed Mafia boss. They owned several malls, clubs, and other businesses that I was unfamiliar with. All I knew was that they were wealthy and extremely powerful. My father was a well-known businessman who was not doing badly, but the Greys had more money than we did. They were the world's fourth richest people, and my father ranked fifteenth. When Alain went into business with Logan, he and Logan began spending time together, and Logan would occasionally visit our house. Alain and his mother would sometimes be mean to me in front of Logan, which made me feel very embarrassed because I had always had a crush on Logan, despite my father's feelings about his family. I thought he was attractive, with his red hair that always looked silky soft and mesmerizing green eyes. I even liked the full-sleeve tattoos on his arms. They suited him. He, on the other hand, had always been uninterested in me, so I was taken aback by his gesture and the smile on his face that night. It was the first time I had seen him smile, and it was both beautiful and contagious. We talked for a while, even flirted, and I recall him getting up to take a phone call, but that was where my memory ended. I had no recollection of what happened after that, only fragments of myself moaning as I lost myself to the stranger. My clothes were strewn about like a passionate reunion between two long-lost lovers the next morning, and I was covered in hickeys. The gravity of the situation left me traumatized. I had lost my virginity to a complete stranger. Whenever I caught someone looking at me, I couldn’t help but wonder if they weren’t staring at me because they were the one. I couldn't help but wonder, what if I was mistaken and it was not Logan as I suspected? I couldn’t sleep for a long time after that. My academics suffered, and I was unable to cope and share what had happened with anyone. I had no idea how to approach my father about something like that, and I had no one else to talk to. I felt unsafe and wished he would return home because, even if I couldn't tell him, I felt better when he was present. I felt safe. He eventually started a project in the country, which shortened his business trips. I began to feel better, accepting what had happened to me and attempting to put it behind me; even though I could never forget, I tried to live again. My father finished his project and was back on the road, but this did not deter my progress. I felt like myself again until nine months ago. I started getting sick and found out I was pregnant. Gripped by panic, I hid it. I didn't know what to say. However, my stomach began to show, and I was eventually discovered. I told my father what happened the night of the party, and he was furious. So, despite my doubts, I returned and told him it was Logan. However, it did not improve the situation and, in fact, made it worse because of my father's feelings toward that family. He asked if Logan knew, and when I told him he didn't, he told me to leave it that way. He did not want anything to bind me to that family and told me I had to give the baby away after telling me how bad being associated with that family would be for me. And how much I had disappointed him. But I didn't want to give my baby away, so I went to the very Logan he had told me to stay away from and told them I was pregnant. I tried to speak with Logan shortly after the party, but he was back to his old self. He was not the friendly Logan I had last seen at my party; he was cold and intimidating, and he claimed he never returned after receiving that phone call. When he asked why I was asking, I could not explain that I had lost my virginity to someone and assumed it was him, so I made up a reason. But after discovering I was pregnant, I felt compelled to do anything to prevent my father from taking my baby away. I begged Logan for help, but he became enraged and threw me out, warning that if I implicated him as a father, he would harm me and my family. So I never told him that I had already informed my father. Neither he nor my father were aware that the other knew. Taking my gaze away from Noa and pushing the painful memories away, I placed a hand on my chest, feeling my heart slightly calm. We were safe now. Neither Father nor Logan could reach us. My throat felt dry, so I decided to get up and get some water.