Mr. Mafia's Obsession: His Darkest Desire

Nothing in my life went right after that night with Ethan.

He kept calling me over and over again even after I deleted his number. It felt like he was haunting me through the phone.

I sat across from my therapist every week while she told me gentle stories about healing and strength.

But her words never touched the ache inside me no matter how long I listened.

After the rape, depression swallowed me whole like a dark river with no end.

I almost ended my life because I felt like Ethan had taken everything I had left.

My therapist tried her best and always spoke kindness into me, then handed me books she believed would help.

I took my medications and visited the clinic for checkups every few days.

Somehow, I began to stay indoors all the time without anyone telling me to. I was broken and there was nothing my parents did to help me put myself back together.

Every mistake I made turned into a reason for them to call me a whore. I cried every night until my room became my only safe friend.

That evening during dinner, Dad cleared his throat and said, “We’re moving out.”

He had lost his deacon position in church, and since that day he carried hatred for me like a heavy shield.

Maybe they didn’t truly hate me, maybe they were just angry that one wrong decision ruined everything they had built.

Mom had lost her parish position too and blamed me for every closed door.

The church stopped paying them, and ever since then Mom snapped at every little thing. I became her favorite example of failure.

She compared me to Liana anytime she had the chance.

“Moving out?” Liana asked as she pushed her braids into her tight bun.

“Yes. Georgia has nothing for us anymore, especially after your sister Elysia ruined everything,” Dad replied.

He hated the idea of being a regular member instead of a church leader. Serving God had always been his pride. We were raised on rules and fear instead of understanding.

I remembered our high school years vividly.

Mom repeated her commandments every week.

• Don’t date boys—they will break your heart.

• Don’t date boys—God hates it.

• No sex before marriage or you will perish in hell.

I didn’t bother remembering the rest because they all felt useless. I was the quiet girl with glasses who was always bullied and ignored. I didn’t have friends, attention, or confidence.

I body-shamed myself daily and believed I wasn’t worth looking at. But Ethan told me I was beautiful during homecoming and those words lit something inside me.

I stood in front of the mirror that night wondering if maybe I wasn’t invisible after all, until he confessed he had a crush on the most popular girl in school, leaving me shattered.

I gave up the idea of college and chose a nun school instead because I was terrified of facing more bullying. Yet here I was now—a victim with scars I didn’t ask for. It all felt so pathetic.

“We’re moving to Buffalo,” Mom announced, giving me a sharp look through her heavy eyeliner. It always surprised me how she wore makeup after warning us never to use any.

“New York?” Liana gasped.

“Something wrong?” Mom pressed.

“No… I mean…” she stuttered, but I could see the excitement burning in her eyes because New York had always been her dream.

I wasn’t a fan of social media or celebrities like she was. Liana spent hours obsessing over artists and influencers, while I stayed distant from all of it.

“New York is fun,” she squealed. I stayed silent because my opinions never mattered. I was always the disappointment.

Mom raised a brow. “Because of Alexa?”

“No, Mom. Alexa is an ass.”

“Language!” Dad barked.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you around Alexa. She likes boys too much. I heard she has three boyfriends.”

I rolled my eyes quietly and stirred my ramen.

Alexa was our cousin, a whirlwind of reckless energy and bad choices, always testing boundaries and drawing attention wherever she went.

Dad had never liked her—not one bit.

He believed she brought chaos and shame into the family, and any association with her was a risk to our reputation.

“I heard Doreen caught her watching porn. Such a sinful child.” Mom shook her head dramatically. “I’m glad my Liana isn’t like those wild girls.”

Then she glanced at me.

“Unlike some people who sneak off to have sex with their boyfriend when they’re supposed to be sisters in church.”

Her words stabbed me so deeply that breathing hurt. A tear slipped out before I could stop it. I gathered my bowl and stood up.

“And where are you going?” Dad asked with clenched teeth.

“To my room. I need to take my medicine.”

Mom snorted. “It’s shocking you’re not pregnant. You’d be on the streets by now.”

“I’m just going to my room,” I whispered and walked away.

I shut the door and slid down to the floor, sobbing until my chest ached. I always told myself their words shouldn’t matter, but somehow they always found a way to break me. After hours of crying, I finally stood and looked in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back.

I pulled my knees to my chest on the chair and studied my swollen eyes. I could not remember the last time I smiled.

“Elysia…” Liana’s voice woke me the next morning.

My eyelids burned as I rubbed them. She pushed the door open and stepped in with a smirk. I hated that she was older, yet still treated me like dirt.

“Good morning,” I said softly.

“Morning. Get ready. Our flight leaves in an hour.”

I watched her walk out as New York echoed in my head. She was already in college, and soon I would be joining once we reached Buffalo. I didn’t know what to expect anymore.

The plane ride was miserable. I sat by the window and glued my eyes to the book the therapist gave me. She said it would strengthen me, and maybe it was helping a little.

After hours of turbulence and discomfort, we finally landed. I hugged my bag and stepped out into the busy New York air. I had never been here before, and the noise felt overwhelming.

“Yes!” Liana squealed and took selfies nonstop.

“Take some pictures for me?” she asked, handing me her phone. I took the photos silently as she changed poses like a model.

We got in the waiting car and she sat beside me, practically vibrating with excitement as she stared at every building we passed. I just sat quietly, numb and tired.

When we reached the new house, it looked almost identical to the old one. I dragged my bags behind me without complaining. The neighborhood was peaceful and beautiful, but beauty never fixed anything for me.

I climbed the stairs with difficulty because of the luggage weight. When I finally reached my room, I exhaled. It needed serious cleaning.

I cleaned for hours until the room looked like a place someone could breathe in. As evening arrived, I heard teenagers laughing from somewhere outside. I stepped onto the balcony and inhaled the cool New York air.

Because of my bad fate, we were here. I hoped maybe this time would be different. I wanted to be better, far away from Ethan and Georgia.

A week later, Dad brought my old car from Georgia. I still didn’t know how he managed it. Even with all the changes, they didn’t stop reminding me of my mistakes.

One morning I tapped my fingers on the counter while finishing my coffee. Liana was online again because her phone kept buzzing and she wouldn’t stop smiling.

“Having fun in New York?” she asked without looking up.

“Yes,” I lied softly.

I had not stepped outside since we moved in. I stayed indoors, taking my meds and reading. There wasn’t much for me to do here anyway, and I never cared for social media like she did.

“It’s nice. I can’t wait to resume college,” she said.

I shrugged and tapped the counter again.

“Elysia, what are you doing?” Mom asked from the doorway.

“Nothing,” I replied quietly.

“Have you been taking your medications?” she asked, pretending to care.

“Yes.”

“Yes? Then why are your pills still in this bottle?” she yelled as she held it up. Liana even paused her scrolling to stare.

“I… I—”

“What? What’s wrong with you?” Mom snapped. “You slept with your boyfriend and now you’re pretending to be sick. Do you know how much money I wasted on you after your nonsense?”

“Mom—”

“Shut up! Dirty little whore.”

Tears fell instantly.

“Cry if you want. I hope you don’t embarrass us in New York too,” she spat before tossing the pills at me and walking away.

“Oops,” Liana muttered before going back to her phone.