Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 1

**The Unplaceable End by Austen**

**Chapter 1**

**Silence**

**Aurora’s POV**

The sharp crack of the belt against my back reverberates through my body once more.

I swallow hard, stifling the tears that threaten to overflow.

Crying has become a weakness I can no longer afford.

I’ve learned that tears only serve to invite more pain.

So, I dig my teeth into the tender flesh of my cheek, concentrating on the uneven fissures of the kitchen floor beneath my feet, and brace myself for the onslaught to end.

“You worthless little brat,” my mother hurls at me, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Always late. Always slow. Is it that hard to put some damn breakfast on the table!”

Her boyfriend adds, “We come down expecting breakfast to be ready.”

The names of her boyfriends blur together in my mind; I can’t even remember which one this is.

At last, when they feel they’ve unleashed enough of their fury, they stumble out, leaving a trail of chaos behind them.

I let out a long, weary sigh.

Pulling my worn hoodie over my head, I find comfort in its oversized fabric. It’s frayed at the edges and two sizes too big, but it conceals the bruises that mar my skin. That’s all that really matters to me.

As I step outside, the sun has already risen, casting its warm rays over the world. Yet, despite the warmth, a shiver runs through me.

Not from the chill of the morning air, but from the weight of everything else.

School feels like another prison, just like home.

The moment I enter the hallway, her voice cuts through the air like a knife.

“Well, well. Look who decided to show her face.”

Tiffany. Beautiful. Flawless. Heartless.

Her glossy lips twist into a mocking smirk as her eyes rake over me, taking inventory of every imperfection. I lower my gaze, forcing myself to keep moving. Just keep walking.

Behind her trail her loyal followers—Mia, Bree, and Summer—each a perfect imitation of the other, made of plastic and malice.

“Still wearing that pathetic excuse for a hoodie?” Bree sneers, her tone dripping with contempt. “Do you even own real clothes?”

“Do you even shower?” Mia chimes in, her laughter ringing like a cruel bell.

My books are suddenly knocked from my hands, scattering like fallen leaves.

My heart sinks as I drop to my knees, scrambling to collect the mess as quickly as I can.

Please, just don’t touch the drawing. Please don’t—

But Tiffany snatches it up before I can reach it.

“What the hell is this?” she scoffs, holding my artwork as if it were nothing more than litter.

I stretch out my hand, my eyes wide with desperation.

“Tiff… Please… give it back,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

She crumples the paper and tosses it into the garbage with a flick of her wrist.

“Creepy. Just like you. And don’t call me that. Only my friends can call me Tiff.”

With a toss of her hair, she struts away, her minions flanking her like a pack of wolves. I stare at the trash can, my heart heavy. Should I even bother retrieving it?

With a resigned sigh, I gather my remaining papers and books, clutching them tightly to my chest.

**[Flashback – Two Years Ago]**

“Your hair looks like gold in the sunlight,” I tell her, my voice filled with admiration.

Tiffany giggles, tumbling back onto the grass beside me, her laughter ringing like music.

“You’re such a poet, Rory,” she says, linking her pinky with mine in a sweet promise. “Promise we’ll be best friends forever?”

A smile stretches across my face, so wide it almost hurts.

“Forever,” I whisper, sealing our bond.

But forever shatters in seventh grade.

She stops talking to me, her laughter fading into silence.

Her parents whisper about me, calling me dirty and unworthy.

Then she joins forces with the popular girls.

And soon, she’s laughing at me.

**[Now]**

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