Vicious 11 (Patreon)

author's note: as promised here is the chapter! I really hope you all enjoy it. Leave your comments down below of what you think!

word count: 3.3K

Y/N had started drifting off into an uneasy sleep, her mind filled with worries and fears. She had been waiting for Charlie to come down to see her, to bring her some relief from the darkness and loneliness of the dungeon. But he never came.

As the hours ticked by, her hope dwindled and despair crept in. She felt abandoned, betrayed even. Charlie was her last link to any form of kindness in this place, and his absence made her believe the worst.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she curled up on the hard, cold floor. The chains around her wrists and ankles chafed and rubbed against her skin, adding to her discomfort. She cried silently, the tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to stifle her sobs.

The thought that Harry might have caught Charlie trying to help her terrified her. She imagined the consequences, the punishment that both Charlie and she would face. The fear gripped her heart like a vice, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, both physically and emotionally. She felt battered and sore, every muscle in her body aching from the strain of being chained for so long. Her father's punishments had been severe, but they had never been this prolonged.

In the darkness of the dungeon, surrounded by cold stone walls and the echoing sound of her own sobs, Y/N felt utterly alone. She longed for the comfort of a warm bed, for the simple pleasure of being able to stretch out her legs without the chains restricting her movements.

But most of all, she longed for freedom. The freedom to walk outside in the sunlight, to feel the wind in her hair and the grass beneath her feet.

Y/N's fitful sleep was abruptly interrupted by the creak of the dungeon door. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear coursing through her veins. She prayed silently that it was Charlie and not one of Harry's men sent to bring her more pain.

With trembling hands, she pushed herself up from the cold, hard ground, her eyes fixed on the door. Slowly, cautiously, she crawled towards the wall farthest from the entrance, her movements barely making a sound against the stone floor. Every nerve in her body was on edge as she listened to the approaching footsteps.

The sound grew louder, closer, echoing in the dimly lit dungeon. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she strained to make out the figure that appeared in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N's voice was sharp, laced with both surprise and apprehension as she saw Harry's face emerge from the shadows. It wasn't Charlie. Her demeanor turned cold and distant, instinctively moving further away from him as he slowly unlocked the door and entered the dimly lit room.

Harry stood in the doorway, his gaze locked on Y/N's form huddled in the corner. He could see the fear in her eyes, the way her body tensed as he approached. It unsettled him, the realization that she was genuinely scared of him. Harry couldn't comprehend the swirling emotions within him. This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? For Y/N to fear him, to cower before him. But now, as he looked at her huddled form in the corner, her eyes wide with fear, he couldn't shake the twinge of regret that twisted in his gut.

The sight of her, so vulnerable and scared, made something ache deep within him. He had never wanted to be the source of her fear, to see the terror in her eyes directed at him. It was a stark reminder of the darkness that lurked within him, the same darkness that had driven her to try and escape.

As he stood there, watching her tremble in the dim light of the dungeon, Harry felt a surge of guilt wash over him. Guilt for the way he had treated her, for the harsh punishments he had inflicted. Guilt for the way he had made her feel.

"I came to talk," Harry said, his voice surprisingly gentle compared to the anger that usually simmered beneath the surface. He took a few slow steps into the room, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched him move closer. She tried to steady her breathing, to keep her voice steady. "Talk about what?" she managed to say, though her throat felt tight with anxiety.

Harry paused, his expression unreadable for a moment. "About why you tried to escape," he replied, his voice low and steady.

Y/N's eyes flickered with a mix of defiance and fear. "I don't owe you any explanations," she retorted, her voice sharper than intended.

Harry's jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "You do when your actions could have serious consequences," he countered, his tone firm.

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. "I just... I couldn't stay here," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not after what happened with Silas."

Harry understood exactly what she was alluding to. He had shown himself to be a man of violence, impatience, and a dangerously short temper. He had made it clear that he didn't care about familial ties when it came to obedience. Everyone, even family, had to bend to his will.

As he stood there, facing Y/N's wary gaze, however he didn’t fell shame. That’s how he was, and he wasn’t going to change for anyone.

"I know what you think of me," Harry said, his voice low and commanding. "And frankly, I don't care."

Y/N watched him closely, her expression guarded but also defiant. The fear in her eyes only seemed to fuel his resolve.

"I won't apologize for who I am," Harry continued, his tone unwavering. "I am the master of this house, and my word is law. You will do as I say, or face the consequences."

He could see the flash of anger in Y/N's eyes, the defiance that burned beneath the surface. Harry relished in it, the challenge she presented.

"I don't expect your forgiveness," Harry stated, his voice cold and authoritative. "But I do expect your obedience."

Y/N's jaw tightened, her gaze narrowing at his words. She was a fighter, he could see that clearly. But Harry was not one to back down from a challenge.

"Now," Harry said, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "I suggest you start cooperating. It will make things much easier for both of us."

He stood there for a moment, considering whether to question her about Giana. However, he quickly dismissed the idea. The last thing he needed was for Y/N to grow anxious and attempt another escape.

"Let's get you out of those," Harry said, his voice low and commanding as he gestured towards the chains that bound her wrists.

Y/N eyed him warily, her gaze never leaving his as he approached. She could feel the tension crackling in the air between them, the palpable sense of danger that surrounded Harry.

As he reached her, Harry deftly unlocked the chains, the sound of metal clinking against metal echoing in the dimly lit room. Y/N rubbed her sore wrists as the chains fell away, the relief of having her hands free washing over her.

"Stand up," Harry ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing at him. She didn't trust him, not for a second. But she also knew she had no choice but to comply. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the cold, stone floor, her muscles protesting the sudden movement.

Harry watched her intently, his gaze never leaving her as she stood before him. He could see the defiance in her eyes, the fire that burned within her. It both intrigued and infuriated him.

Without a word, Harry reached out and grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not harsh. He led her towards the door, his steps purposeful and determined. Y/N followed reluctantly, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and defiance.

As they reached the door, Harry paused and turned to face her. His eyes bore into hers, a silent warning lingering in the air between them.

"Remember," Harry said, his voice low and menacing. "Disobedience will not be tolerated."

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. She nodded curtly, her jaw clenched in defiance.

"Good," Harry said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's go."

Y/N wasted no time as she hurried upstairs to her bedroom, the need for a long, hot shower pressing on her. She closed the door behind her with a heavy sigh, the weight of the past few days settling heavily on her shoulders.

In the privacy of her room, she shed her clothes with haste, the memories of the dungeon still fresh in her mind. The cold, damp stone beneath her feet, the chains that bound her wrists, the oppressive darkness that surrounded her... She shuddered involuntarily, pushing the thoughts away as she stepped into the warmth of the shower.

The hot water cascaded over her body, soothing her aching muscles and washing away the grime and fear that clung to her skin. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the steam fill the small space as she allowed herself a moment of respite.

With trembling hands, she reached for the soap, lathering it over her skin in quick, desperate motions. She scrubbed at her arms and legs, trying to rid herself of the feeling of being trapped, of being at Harry's mercy.

As the water turned cooler, Y/N reluctantly stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a plush towel. She stood before the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with hollow eyes. She was skinnier and paler than before.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she reached for the hairdryer. The familiar hum of the dryer filled the room as she worked to tame her wet locks, the rhythmic sound soothing in its monotony.

Finally, Y/N felt a semblance of normalcy returning to her. She dressed in fresh clothes, the soft fabric a comfort against her skin. With a sigh, she sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind still reeling from the events of the day.

But for now, in the quiet of her room, she allowed herself a moment of peace. The hot shower had washed away the physical remnants of her ordeal, leaving her feeling more human, more herself.

With a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes, letting the stillness of the room envelop her. She would need her strength for whatever lay ahead, but for now, she simply allowed herself to rest.

"Basically, Giana and Augusto’s marriage is arranged," Charlie explained to Harry as he laid out the information in front of him. The room was filled with the tense air of revelations, the weight of secrets finally coming to light. "Augusto is Federico’s supplier of cocaine and estasis. Without him, Federico doesn’t have enough stash to sell in Italy."

Harry listened intently, his gaze fixed on the papers before him, his mind racing with the implications of what he was hearing. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, revealing a darker, more intricate web than he had ever imagined.

"And who is Giana?" Harry asked, his voice low and measured as he took a drag of his cigarette. It had been days since Y/N had been released from the dungeon, and the image of her sitting alone outside, lost in her thoughts, haunted him.

"She is Y/N’s best friend," Lex chimed in, his tone serious. "But we haven’t found much about her family. We just know that she has always been by Y/N’s side, ever since they were little."

Harry’s brow furrowed as he processed the information. The connection between Giana, Y/N, and Augusto was becoming clearer, painting a picture of alliances and loyalties that ran deep.

"So, Augusto is Federico’s key to the drug trade in Italy," Harry mused aloud, his mind working overtime to piece together the implications. "And Y/N and Giana were planning an escape."

Charlie nodded, his expression grave. "It seems that way. We found messages between them, discussing their plans. Giana is trying to escape from Augusto and Y/N is trying to help her”

"He's apparently a real twat. I wonder why Federico would basically sell his almost second daughter to someone like that man," Lex questioned, a frown creasing his brow. "That is what Giana is to him. They've been inseparable since they were three. He knows her just as much as he knows Y/N."

"The same reason why Y/N is here. For power," Harry responded, his voice low and tinged with bitterness. "The finger must belong to Giana. Augusto probably caught her too and knows that Y/N is here. The finger is a warning."

Lex's eyes flickered down to the pictures from the other Italian woman, the weight of the situation settling heavily in the room. The silent acknowledgment between the men spoke volumes, a shared understanding of the dangerous game they were now entangled in.

"Then he knows that you are engaged to Y/N. Why would he send something like this to you?" Charlie asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "It was addressed to you, not to Y/N."

Harry chuckled darkly, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily around him. "He just wants to intimidate," he said with a dismissive shrug. "I am not worried."

The nonchalance in Harry's voice didn't quite match the tension in the room. Charlie exchanged a glance with Lex, the unspoken question lingering in the air: Should they be worried?

"Anyway, we should head over to the club. There are a few things that aren’t adding up," Harry said, rising from his seat. "Get the cars ready," he instructed, slipping his gun into his pants and gathering the rest of his things before making his way downstairs.

Just as he was about to leave the house, that's when he heard her voice.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing at the top of the stairs. Y/N was dressed in a lovely flowered long dress, her hair elegantly styled up.

"I’ve got some business to take care of," Harry replied, looking up at her. "Why?"

"What sort of business?" she inquired as she descended a few steps.

"Strip club," he said, the corner of his lips quirking up in a slight smirk. He knew she wouldn't be keen on the idea. “Do you want to go?” Harry asked jokingly knowing that she would say no. She wasn’t the type of woman to visit such places regularly.

"What are we waiting for?" Lex asked, entering the house and searching for Harry.

"Yeah. Let me just change!" Y/N suddenly exclaimed, surprising Harry. She turned on her heel and headed to her bedroom to swap her outfit for something more fitting for the occasion.

Harry watched with surprise as Y/N disappeared into her room to change. He hadn't expected her to agree to join them at the strip club. He exchanged a glance with Lex, both of them equally taken aback by her sudden change of heart.

"Well, I'll be damned," Lex muttered under his breath, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Looks like we're in for an interesting night," he remarked, a sense of anticipation building within him.

A few minutes later, Y/N emerged from her room, the dress Y/N had chosen hugged her curves provocatively, with a dangerously plunging neckline and three daring cutouts below her bust line. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves, a stark contrast to the elegant updo she had worn earlier. Completing the ensemble were a small black purse and lace-up high heels that added to the allure.

Harry's eyes widened as he took in her outfit, a mixture of surprise and disapproval crossing his features. "Absolutely not," he stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You aren't leaving this house wearing that."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression defiant as she crossed her arms. "And why not?" she challenged, her voice tinged with a hint of rebellion.

Harry stepped closer to her, his gaze intense as he looked her up and down. "Because it's too revealing," he replied, his tone firm. "I won't have you parading around like that."

Y/N's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with frustration. "It's just a dress," she retorted, her voice tinged with defiance. "And besides, it's not like we're going to church ."

Harry narrowed his eyes, his jaw tensing as he fought to control his temper. "I don't care where we're going," he stated, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not going out in public dressed like that." He wasn’t blind. Harry was acutely aware of Y/N's allure, her beauty undeniable as she sat beside him at the club. The way her dress hugged her curves, the hint of mischief in her eyes—it was enough to turn heads and raise eyebrows.

As they watched the dancers on stage, Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness. The thought of someone else looking at her, desiring her, made his blood boil. The last thing he wanted was to get into a fight because some idiot couldn't keep his eyes to himself.

Harry narrowed his eyes, his jaw tensing as he fought to control his temper. "I don't care where we're going," he stated, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not going out in public dressed like that."

Y/N's gaze hardened, her chin lifting defiantly. "And who are you to tell me what I can and can't wear?" she shot back, her voice rising in anger.

/N was acutely aware that she was stepping into Harry's arena once more. She understood the power he held over her, the ability to confine her to the dark depths of the dungeon at his whim. But she refused to yield on this.

The dress she chose was a silent defiance, a rebellion against his control. It was a statement of her autonomy, a declaration that she would not be dictated to, even in the matter of her attire.

No, she wouldn't allow Harry—or anyone—to dictate what she could and couldn't wear. This was her choice, her body, her freedom.

Harry took a step closer, his body towering over hers as he looked down at her. "I'm the one in charge here," he stated, his voice low and commanding. "And I won't have you disrespecting me."

There was a moment of tense silence between them, the air crackling with the intensity of their confrontation. Y/N held her ground, her eyes locked with his in a battle of wills.

Finally, Harry let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "Fine," he conceded, his tone grudging. "But if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, we're leaving."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Deal," she replied, her voice laced with challenge.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THE DRESS!!