Bound by Hate

Steven woke up to an unfamiliar environment, or so he thought. His brain was still trying to process the dream he had. It's been the same one plaguing him for 8 years straight. A time when he had his free will snatched from him, tortured and battered by his masters or mistresses. It was that time he met her, Marrena, the love of his life. The girl who sacrificed everything to make sure he survived, including her life. Steven groaned in anger, remembering how unrecognizable her body was. The only way he identified her was the necklace around her hand, the same one he had given her.

He groaned, shaking the memories off, and in the process, tried moving his arms. He frowned when he couldn't; they were still cuffed to the bed. "Ricardo!" Steven yelled. "Where the f*** is he?" He muttered when Ricardo didn't appear.

"Lucas!" he yelled, and this time, a tall, handsome-looking guy appeared, opening the door. "Hi!" Lucas waved, munching on an apple. "Get me out of this!" Steven demanded.

"Someone's grumpy. Same dream?" Lucas asked, chewing slowly.

"Yeah," Steven sighed.

"Well, maybe you should see the therapist like Ric suggested."

"So they could hypnotize me and feast on my mind? Thanks, but no thanks."

"You're pissed, and it's fine. I would do the same if I were a slave for two years, fell in love, and had no memory of it." Steven stared blankly at Lucas, watching him give a reminder of his predicament.

"I didn't ask you for a summary of my life. Get me out of these cuffs, and where the hell is Ricardo?" he half-yelled.

"Sorry, boss," Lucas said, dropping his half-eaten apple on the table. "There was a problem with the shipment; Ric went to supervise." Lucas reported, withdrawing the key to the cuffs from his pocket. He went ahead to uncuff Steven.

Stevens rubbed his freed wrists, his eyes taking in the room.

"Again?" He asked, and Lucas gave a nod, going back to take his apple. "I'm beginning to think it's planned; it can't be a coincidence." Lucas shrugged, sitting on a couch in the well-furnished room. "Who would want to get on the bad side of the Rodriguez clan?" Lucas asked, his gaze on Steven.

"I don't know, maybe the evil Kevin talked about," Steven replied, sighing. This was the fourth time this month their shipments had been hijacked by the same people but using different methods. There had been no progress in identifying them, only the black mask they left at each scene.

"That's just a dying man's last words; you can't trust anything my bastard of a brother said," Lucas spat.

"I hope so," Steven muttered, taking off his shirt, his back to Lucas. "Damnation!" Lucas muttered, his eyes meeting Steven's back, or what was left of it. Marks and scars ran from his neck to his waist; from the view, you could tell it wasn't a whip or cane that did that. These marks were from heated iron.

"Whoever did this didn't want you alive" he muttered, taking a trip down memory lane.

8 years ago, before his own little betrayal, they were damn close, more like brothers. One day they woke up, and Steven was nowhere to be found. Ricardo exhausted his resources to find him, so did he. Every contact they had, every locator they used, all came up with the same results: no identification. It felt like he was dead. 2 years later, Ricardo didn't give up, and one day, while on another mission to find Steven, they finally saw him. His body was battered, his memories a mess. They were glad he didn't forget them, his brothers. Ricardo patched him up, used every means to make sure Steven got back on his feet. When he finally recovered, and they asked him about his time there, he couldn't remember. His time there left him wrecked, one of them was an addiction to the hardest drug on the web. Ricardo never wanted to involve his business in trading hard drugs, but he did because of Steven. They didn't get the real deal, instead, they got something closer to it. For the past 6 years, Steven has been on withdrawal, and it's not easy. He took a drug for 2 years and is spending close to 6 years; there's still no sign of him getting over it.

"Lucas!" Stevens called out, snapping him out of his reverie. "You spaced out. What were you thinking about?" He asked.

"Nothing, man. I'm good."

"You sure?" Stevens asked, his tone filled with uncertainty.

"Yeah, got to go, man. I promised Natalie I would walk..." He stopped his speech, staring at Steven. Natalie Williams-Rodriguez, a model and Ricardo's wife. They should be given the award for the most in-love couple.

Steven froze. He expected to hear that name; when he didn't, he raised his eyes to meet Lucas staring back at him. "It's fine, you can say her name." He gave a soft smile.

Lucas nodded. "I promised Natalie I would take Jean out for a walk."

Steven nodded. "Alright, off you go." He waved him out. Lucas muttered a farewell, leaving the room. Stevens slid to the floor, his eyes red; tears threatening to fall. Why was he a jinx to everyone around him? Jean, the girl who loved him, and he ended up breaking her heart in the most cruel way ever. She is Ricardo's sister, and he didn't take it lightly with him when he found out. It's been 5 months, and Jean hasn't moved a muscle.

Last time the clan's doctor ran a whole body scan on her, he said the same thing: "There's nothing physically wrong with her, it's mental. She doesn't have the will to wake up." "Keep reminding her of things she once loved, and maybe she might wake up mentally fit." "What do you mean 'mentally fit'?" Ricardo had asked in a feat of rage. "There's also a chance she might wake up mad or crazy. I'm sorry, Don." The poor doctor was shaking in fright as he gave the report; he didn't wait a second later before leaving. The fear of Ricardo was the beginning of wisdom.

A phone rang from the bed, and Steven got on his feet to take it. Just as he picked it up, he felt an excruciating pain in his head. "Argh!" He groaned, holding his head, the phone falling to the floor. Images started appearing in his head. They were blurry at first, and he couldn't make sense of them, then they cleared.

~ FLASHBACK~

Steven's eyes circled frantically around the room, as if for some heroic urging toward an escape, while his heart was racing with fear. He had been sold to this new master, a well-off and ruthless man, just hours ago, and now he was being displayed like livestock, standing naked and not budging, while his master showed him off to his wife.

The master spoke to her in a high-pitched voice, a cruel smile coating his lips as he signaled to Steven. "And this, my dear, is the newest addition to our collection. A fine young man, strong and healthy."

Steven's eyes met the wife's-a cold, calculated stare from an impassive woman who eyed him up and down, her face uninfluenced.

"Do you like him, my dear?" the master asked, pride oozing out of every syllable.

The response of his wife was immediate and violent: she flung a delicate porcelain plate at Steven's head, the thing shattering into a hundred pieces. Steven cried out, ducking to avoid shards.

"Pathetic," she spat. "He's nothing special. Just another worthless slave."

The flush of anger and humiliation swept across Steven's face. He knew that he needed to keep his head down, to survive this nightmare. But pride, with his new status as a slave, was hard to swallow.

The master burst out laughing, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Ah, my dear, you always know how to keep me on my toes."

>>END OF FLASHBACK<

"Now I know where I got this hideous scar from," he muttered to himself, rubbing his head where a big scar lay concealed by his hair. He felt something trickling down his nose and touched it to see blood. "Great!" he muttered, pulling out a tissue to wipe his nose clean. He suddenly remembered the plate shattering against his head and flinched at the recollection. It was something he hadn't recalled in years, until now, when the flashback brought it all back. He sipped air into his body, trying to let go of the emotions stirring inside his tummy.

"You have just one option. I'm not putting a bullet in your head right now, because there might be a chance your fate is linked with my brothers," The Don, Ricardo Rodriguez, had said the day he arrested me for my transgression. "What might that be, Don?" I purposely slurred my tone to sound bitchy. Isn't that what they think? No need to prove them wrong.

I'm Renella Marino, a manipulative bitch - a title I prefer over Renella Morano, former heiress to the Morano group of companies, which inwas taken from me by my scheming uncles who think a lady should never preside over them. The Moreno's aren't just known for the chain of companies in their name; we are mostly known for our undercover business; my family is what I'll call a group of mafia mob bosses.

I grew up seeing blood and guns and understanding that it's either kill or be killed, do anything as far as you survive. I was my dad's only daughter, the Apple of his eyes; no one touches me without his permission, and that got my brothers jealous. The worse was when he made his successor. My brothers were furious, the whole Morano clan was angry. The thought of a woman ruling them didn't sit well with them, so they did what every jealous person does. Assassinated my dad and then married me off to a slumlord.

If I didn't lose my life in 3 years, I was there, nothing will make me lose it again. "My lady?" A voice called, bringing me back. "What is it?" "You've been standing in front of the mirror for 20 minutes, are you okay?" My personal maid or should I say my brother's CCTV camera designated to watch and report back to him my every move.

"What are you saying, Clara? I can't watch my reflection?" I question, pulling my top down to cover my scarred tummy. The truth was, I didn't mean to stare that long, but when you see horrible shaped marks, scars that you don't remember how you got them; you tend to ask yourself questions. "N-no it's not that, my lady." She said stuttering, fear visible on her features.

"Get out!" I yell, flinging a glass cup at her. She dodged, the glass cup meeting the wall and shards scattering all over the room. "Clean that up, now!" I ordered. Clara's face was bloody when she raised her face up. The glass might have wounded her. I couldn't care less; they rumor me to be the devil's mistress [Amante del Diablo], well I have no problem acting like one.

"Yes, my lady." She bows and then leaves. I looked around my room and cursed Ricardo Rodriguez for leaving me here. He left me with just one option, and that was bringing me back to the people I loathe. I want nothing more than to see them 6ft under the earth.

I don't know how long I'm in bed, but I wake up when someone knocks on my door. "My lady, the Don has requested your presence in his office." The voice says. I scoff at the title. 'Don' my foot. "Come in." I answer. I want to see the face of who dared use that term to address my Uncle, when they fully well know that title and everything that comes with it belongs to me.

My door opens, and a lanky figure steps in. "Hello." I give off a forced smile, and he dares return it. "Close the door behind you." I smile, leaving my bed. He closed the door behind him; I know what he's expecting and what he is thinking. He rubs his two palms together while licking his lips.

"Who's the Don?" I ask, moving to the door, so he has no way to escape. "What do you mean by that? Your uncle is the Don." He says. I'm furious, and I can't hide the rage anymore, so I swing a vase at him, slamming it on his head repeatedly. I don't stop till he's dead, and blood is everywhere.

"My uncle isn't the Don, I am the rightful heiress. That position was mine till he stole it from me." I yell while tearing his body body apart.

I stop when there's another knock on the door. I don't reply, I just stand up and walk out my room down to the Don's office.

"You called for me." I say as I enter without knocking. On the table, he's banging a maid; I squeeze my face in disgust.

"Don't you knock?" He yells in frustration, fastening his belt as fast as he can. The maid is scurrying off the table and leaving the office barely dressed.

"I don't care, that's why I don't." I smirk, infuriating him the more.

"Why is there blood over you?"

"I bathed in your informant's blood, that's why."

"I'm your Don and you will talk to me with respect!" He says, slamming his hands on the table.

"No! I won't, everything you are enjoying right now is mine and I'll take it back. Watch me, Antonio!" I deadpan, slamming the door as I leave. On my way back to my room, I bump into someone I despise more than my uncle, my brother.

"Rena, I've been wanting to speak to you." He says. Disgust is an understatement on how I stare at him.

"What? So you can bid me off to one slumlord?" I ask and for a second I see guilt flash in his eyes. I'm not fooled by it.

"I thought we are over that already, it's been 8 years Rena."

Goodness, I badly want to scream my lungs out.

"No! It's been 5 years, 3 years of my life ripped from me; we can never get over that, not in this life." Tears is threatening to fall from my eyes, but I blink them away.

"3 years of my life ripped from me, I don't remember a thing. Scars, horrible marks clad my body and I have no idea how I got them and you just expect me to move on?" I say grabbing whatever I could find nearby and flinging it. My head is a mess, I'm seeing flashes, pictures and none of them makes sense.

"Get Marcus, tell him Renella is unstable again." I hear my brother's voice before crashing to the floor. Of course they all think I'm unstable, a psycho. They have no idea what I did to survive that horrible place, whatever I did will hunt me forever, maybe that's why I chose to forget.

~~~

"It was just flashes, Ricardo." Stevens whines, regretting immediately why he told them about the little memory he recovered.

"It isn't just a flash, Stevens. At least that 2 years isn't a mystery anymore." Ricardo says, drinking a glass of water.

Ricardo came back a while ago and asked to see Stevens in his office. Stevens had thought it was maybe to tell him how his findings went, to his surprise Ricardo was asking him about his day and that was how he told him about the memory he got.

"Whatever they did to you there isn't just going to go away, Steven. And you making it seem like the little memory you got is nothing, isn't helping. Steven you were drugged, tortured for fun and only God knows what else. Steven it isn't just a flash and from now on we are working into recovering your memory." Ricardo says, looking at his best friend.

"What if I can't? What if that part of my life is gone?" Stevens asked his voice barely above a whisper.

"It will come back, you will get your memory back, buddy." Ricardo says flashing an encouraging smile.

"What if I can't handle it and I snap?"

"I'll be here to bring you back, Alessandro."

"Okay, enough about me." Stevens says releasing a deep breath.

"What happened at the drop off?" He asked.

"Nothing, they didn't show." Ricardo replied, relaxing on his seat. Fatigue signs on his face.

"You think they knew you were coming?"

"If you're talking about a spy, the answer is no. They're simply smart."

Stevens nodded slowly, his eyes catching a photo laying on the table between them.

"Who is in the photo?" He asked, his interes piqued.

Ricardo who had his eyes closed, snapped them open to look at the photo.

"Rena, before her plastic surgery." Ricardo replied.

"Can I see it?" He asked, going for the photo immediately. Ricardo stared at him, a little bit confused.

"Heavens!" Stevens exclaimed.

"What is it?" Ricardo asked, his sudden outburst scaring him.

"Remember when I mentioned during my time in captivity, my master had a wife?"

"Yeah." Ricardo answers quickly.

"The woman in this photo is the wife." Steven annuonces, crashing on another seat near Ricardo.

"It's true then, you do have a connection with her."

"Where is she?" Stevens asked, getting up in anger.

"Where is who?" Ricardo asked.

"Where is she, Ric? I've got to kill her." Stevens yelled pacing the office.

"Sit down." He commanded.

"No, you don't understand Ric; she's the reason I'm like this, the reason I have scars all over my body, the reason I can't sleep, the reason for everything!" Stevens yelled, his eyes all red and his breathing uneven.

"Sit down." Ricardo urged him again while playing with a ball in his hand. He does that anytime he's trying to control his anger.

"Ricardo!"

"Fvcking stop pacing and sit down!" Ricardo yelled, his eyes finally meeting Stevens who stopped pacing as a result of the outburst.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to calm himself before sitting down.

"It's clear you both were in the same place, is there a chance you might have been taken there by her?" Ricardo asked, his head coming up with different scenarios.

"No." Steven answered.

"I can't remember her from before, although I did hear Jean... " He stopped his statement to look at Ricardo.

Ricardo's eyes flashed with something and he couldn't place it.

"Continue." He waved, a sign for him to continue.

"Jean said Rena trained with us when we were teenagers and she had a huge crush on you."

"Me? The theory is wrong. I don't think it was me she liked, hell I don't even recognize her." Ricardo says picking up the photo one more time to take a look.

"She said one more thing. According to Jean, she confessed her feelings for you and you rejected her and that was the reason for the ploy with Kevin."

"I don't think it's me, there's a mix up somewhere and Jean is not..." Ricardo closed his eyes, before continuing "she's not-"

Just before he could complete his statement, Lucas came in.

"Meeting without me, again. I'm starting to think your hatred for me runs deep." Lucas says pouting

Steven smiled at his childish antics.

"Jean is awake."

Silence descended the room, Steven staring blankly at him.

"Hello? Ricardo, didn't you hear what I just said? Jean is awake." He broke the news again.

Ricardo opened his eyes "it this some kind of sick joke, I'll have your head on a spike." He threatened leaving the room. Ricardo broke out in a run and didn't stop till he got to her room.

"I'm fine, Natalie." He heard her voice.

Ricardo opened and closed his eyes, relishing the fact that his baby sister was awake.

"Don't blame me for worrying, Jean. It's been 5 months, and I'm practically useless without you." Natalie groaned. "Well, don't tell me you've found no use for my brother." Jean laughed. "He's been distant lately, and I don't want to bother him, but I'm glad you're awake, though." They had no idea Ricardo was standing outside the door. He knew he had been distant and couldn't come up with an excuse. What could he say? That a gang kept hijacking his shipments? Just then, Natalie got up and opened the door, and her eyes widened as she saw him standing there. "Hi," she said, surprised.

"Hi," he said, feeling awkward.

"You can go in," Natalie said, stepping aside to let him enter.

"Can we talk first?" Ricardo asked. He needed to make things right as soon as possible; he couldn't have Natalie upset with him and his shipment missing. "Yeah, sure," Natalie replied, glancing at Jean, who nodded in agreement.

"I'll be in our room," Natalie muttered, walking past him.

"How are you feeling?" Ricardo asked Jean.

"I'm okay, just a headache, nothing much," she shrugged.

"Don't do that again; I'll go crazy without you here," Ricardo said, his voice filled with emotion. Jean smiled, standing up from the bed, her legs a bit wobbly from being in one place for so long. "I'm sorry," she whispered, opening her arms for a hug. Ricardo smiled, embracing her. "Now, go get your girl," Jean chuckled, returning to the bed, still a bit unsteady on her feet. Ricardo smiled, nodding. "I'll send the maids up, in case you need anything," he said before leaving.

Jean heaved a sigh, as coming back has taken so much from her. Presently, her head doesn't feel like hers-it feels just like there is something off. She keeps having these headaches in which she feels, with a couple of good knocks, it will go away. So that's what she did. Jean kept slamming her head with her palm. When it wasn't enough, she went close to the wall and continued with the procedure.

"What's that noise?" Steven asked, furrowing his brow. The question was addressed to Lucas, standing next to him.

Lucas cocked his head and tried to tell from where the noise was coming. "Sounds like it's coming from Jean's room," he said in a low tone.

Steven's eyes went wide with alarm. "What is she doing?" he muttered, already hurrying toward Jean's room.

As they entered, a disquieting sight greeted them: Jean was standing near the wall; her palms red and swollen, her face distorted with pain. Her head was bumping against the wall, with her eyes closed tight.

"Jean, stop!" Steven rushed to her, clamping down on her arms to hold her. "What are you doing? You're going to hurt yourself!"

Jean's eyes snapped open, desperation and frustration alive in her eyes. "Make it stop," she pleaded low, her voice shaking. "Make the pain stop."

"Hands off me, bastard." She yelled, struggling from Steven's grip.

Her eyes met Lucas', and she suddenly stopped. "Husband!" she whispered, her voice trembling. Lucas' eyes widened in shock, and Steven froze, giving her the chance to leave his grip. Jean jumped into Lucas' arms, hugging him like her life depended on it. Her bloody head stained his clothes. "He tried to hurt me and take me away from you," Jean whined, her voice filled with desperation. "Don't let him take me away, Mi Vida," she kept repeating, her grip on Lucas tightening, until she finally fell asleep, still clinging to him. "What just happened?" Steven muttered, getting to his feet, looking bewildered. "I have no idea," Lucas replied, gazing down at the petite female holding onto him, the blood on her head wetting his shirt.

A part of him was jumping with excitement, another part of him was sad. What he had just witnessed took him to the edge and confirmed the doctor's words. Jean had lost her mind. He loved her, maybe more than he would ever know; he wanted her love, but he didn't want it if she wasn't in her right state of mind.

"She's lost it, right?" Steven asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucas gave a slow nod. "We can't know for certain; it could be a side effect from her slumber."

He didn't want to believe it one bit.

"What's going on here?" Ricardo asked, entering the room. His eyes darted from Steven to Lucas and then to the blood on the wall. He was met with silenc

"You both should answer me. Why is there blood on the wall?" Ricardo asked, raising his voice slightly.

"Quiet, Ricardo. We don't want her waking up," Lucas hushed, carrying Jean in a bridal style and taking her into the bathroom located inside the room. Ricardo followed suit.

He carefully washed her hair, gave her a bath, and wrapped her with a towel before taking her out of the tub and back to the bedroom.

Lucas gently laid her on the bed, trying not to wake her. He covered her with a blanket, his eyes filled with concern. "I'll go call Dr Tate to treat her wound". Steven muttered, leaving the room. His mood was a mess. This was all because of him, he shouldn't have hurt her in the first. He didn't get to reach the doctor's quarters before breaking down in tears.

~~~

"She called you her husband?" Ricardo asked, still unsure. Immediately Steven left, Lucas had given him a run down of what happened.

"I love her, maybe more than I'll ever know. But, I can't have her love if she's not in her right mind." Lucas said, his tone breaking on edge.

"Relax, if she wakes up still recognizing you as her husband; you become one. Steven broke her heart, you just have to mend it."

Lucas nodded, taking Jean's hand in his. It felt cold against his. Ricardo felt the emotions whirling around and decided to leave.

"I'll go check on Steven, I don't think he made it to Tate's quarters." He said excusing himself.