Michael's POV
I watched Y/N and Alex disappear into the hallway as he walked her to the guest bedroom. I sigh, making my way to sit at the kitchen's table and completely ignoring Jonathan's presence. Murph was still eating his cereal while Ross missed this whole scene, since he went grocery shopping. The silence was so intense you could hear Murph's spoon clinking on the ceramic plate before sipping the milk from his cereal.

"There's always a fucking problem with you." Jonathan breaks the silence once he finishes sipping on his beer. He crushes the can with his fist and throws it against the kitchen's marble floor.

Murph gasped. "Alex will kill you if he sees—"

"I don't care, Murph." Jonathan huffs and turns his attention to me, "There are other important matters I need to take care of."

"What?" My tone was bitter. I immediately knew how this was going to turn out. However, I clenched my jaw to stop myself from saying anything else that might trigger Jonathan even more than he already is.

"I said, there is always a problem with you, Michael Jackson." Jonathan repeats, pacing closer to me.

"There is always a problem with you, Jonathan." I scoff and stand up from my seat in order to maintain the same eye level. Although he's a few inches taller.
"First of all, we never agreed to this nonsense plan of kidnapping this innocent girl. She doesn't deserve it. Second, stop turning into a snowflake by the smallest inconv—"
Jonathan's grip on my throat disallowed me from finishing my sentence. I gasped for air after he'd just tackled me against the floor.

"Smallest inconvenience, you were saying?!" Jonathan yelled.

"Oh shit!" A loud clank echoed in the kitchen after Murph dropped his spoon onto his plate. He rushed to my aid immediately. However, when he tried to get us separated, Jonathan pushed him away hard enough for him to stumble.

"I'm so tired of you." Jonathan grunts and proceeds to throw a punch at my face, followed by another one, "Always getting on my fucking way."

I dodged the other punch he aimed and gripped his arm, giving me the opportunity to punch him in the jaw. I took it, obviously. It was fun and all until Jonathan gripped my throat firmly with both hands and pressed me against the kitchen's marble floor. I gasped for air as my vision slightly blurred.

"Shit, Jonathan that's enough!" Murph yelled at him.

"Keep in mind, Mikey. . . That the only reason you're still here is because you're a good salesman and you have the contacts I need." He lifts my head, only to thump it against the floor once again, "but now that I think about it. You're easily replaceable."

"F-Fuck you." I tried to fight away from his grip. I may be the best fighter, but Jonathan was the one who taught me everything I knew. Therefore, fighting him would be pointless. He strikes me with another punch.

"You really think I would let you be happy and have the freedom to take another girl from me? Huh?!" Jonathan yelled. Unfortunately, I felt small drops of his saliva land on my cheek. I cringed as soon as the liquid made contact with my skin.

"Is that what this is about?" I struggled to breath. My eyebrows furrowed. "Over a simple girl?"

"Not just over a simple girl!" Jonathan yelled. I gasped for air as my throat has been set free, even though he throws another punch. I fall back onto the floor. "I lost two people I loved the most because of you!"

"Remember my father? Do you even remember Leah? Huh?!" He stands up and proceeds to kick me. I yelped in pain and held my side.
"You try to be all perfect but you destroy everything everywhere you go." He spat.

"What does that even have to do with Y/N?" I panted. My chest was hurting as my lungs fought for air.

Once again, Murph made the attempt to hold Jonathan back. It was pointless.
The sound of tires against the pavement and a vehicle coming to a halt announced Ross' arrival. It seemed to distract Jonathan, so I tried to stand up.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" Jonathan uses his foot to push onto my chest against the floor. The sound of a gun clicking made me anxious, for I found myself facing a gun's muzzle.

"Shit, Ross!" Murph screamed his lungs out and ran out the door towards Ross. He knew Jonathan would only listen to him.

I gulped. My sight traveled from the muzzle to Jonathan's eyes, which were full of loathe. Not even my father's eyes could beat the ones I'm staring into. I held my hands up in surrender.

"Jonathan, we can talk this out without hurting each other." My lips released a shaky breath. For the first time in the 10 years I've been working along with Jonathan, I feared for my life.

I found myself thinking about my family— not the Jacksons; but Ross, Alex, and Murph. If Jonathan pulled that trigger right now, I wouldn't be able to listen to Ross ramble about his dreams of becoming a doctor and how he'd probably be 52 years old by the time he graduates medical school anymore. Or listen to Alex's sewing machine while Jonathan's gone— he says he will make a dress for Cher one day, and become Ariana Grande's personal fashion stylist. I won't be able to see Murph get justice after everything that he's been through; the reason he's here— currently running down the front door's steps to get Ross.
I won't be able to see Y/N fulfill the dreams she's fighting for. A dream that I abandoned out of anger and pressure. She doesn't deserve this. If I die right now, I will knowing I tried to care for an innoncent girl who should be out there staying extra hours at school practicing at her music's teacher piano— even if she had to deal with her parents' abuse, it's better than being sexually abused here. My chest tightened as my heart ached for her.

"I've had enough, Jackson." Jonathan shakes the pistol in front of my forehead. The pressure of his foot on my chest became lighter; he took a step back, finally. I still held my hands up while slowly standing up.

"You're just creating problems for yourself out of jealousy," I spoke without hesitation, although my hands in surrender hinted otherwise. "What are you so afraid of?"

Jonathan scoffed. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Then what?"
"For once, I want you to stay away and stop getting in the middle of my plans and fucking them up," his grip on the pistol became tighter.

"Your plans?" I shook my head. "Last time I checked it was us who helped you kidnap Y/N while you sat your fat ass on the couch making up this non-sense plan of revenge. No way I will stay away."
I thought it was impossible, but he became even more furious.

"I can help you with that." He exhaled loudly, just like the pistol.

Y/N'S POV
"Oh my god." I gasped with a shaky breath. I tried my best to stay calm as Michael's screams of pain roared through the house. It was impossible.

Alex's eyes widened. "No fucking way." In matter of milliseconds, he was out my door. The strong sound of his footsteps against the wooden floor of the hallway faded when he made it to the kitchen.

I obviously wanted to see what was going on. I immediately stood up from the bed, only to have my ass pulled back to the bed. I forgot I was handcuffed.

"Damn it." I cussed under my breath. I felt frustrated as an anxious sensation overwhelmed me. I could hear the men's voices, even though Michael's yelps of pain easily outshined them.

"Fuck, Ross, do something. He's bleeding out, man!" Murph panicked.

"Give me a fucking minute, I need my stuff!"

"Take him to the couch!"

"No, not the couch I just cleaned!"

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"That's enou-"

"The eggs broke, is this a fucking joke?!"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Ugh!" I grunted in distress. I wish I was there. This is all my fault. Michael got hurt because of me. Then, everything started to set in.

I've been sexually assaulted. How come this bothered me so little? How is it possible for me to be so numb that the only moment I was suffering is when that man was forcing himself inside me, but afterwards I was like nothing happened? Why am I suddenly finding comfort in these men— Jonathan doesn't count—, in Alex, Murph and. . . Michael specially?

The pressure in my chest became heavier with every breath I took and my eyes became overwhelmed with tears. All of a sudden, the voices coming from the living room became a background noise. I could've sworn my father was next to me if I was blind.

You deserve it, his voice was so clear. Maybe I have been so used to being mistreated and miserable that Jonathan's turn felt like any other.

As if on cue, a small reflection flashed from the carpeted floor. I felt hopeful as soon as I noticed it was the key for the handcuffs. Alex must've dropped it when he left. It was approximately 2 feet away from the bed. If I'm careful enough, I might be able to reach it with my right foot.

Michael's POV
I felt like something was pounding inside my head, so loud I could barely hear Alex freaking out over the broken eggs on the floor. Ross accidentally dropped the grocery bags when he walked in to the scene.  I became dizzy while laying on the couch; my head is killing me. The more conscious I am about the bullet on my shoulder, the more painful the wound became. I mist think about something else to distract myself.

Leah. . .

The memories of us were as vivid as if we were just cuddling on this couch yesterday. Right before Jonathan came home sooner than he said he'd be. Before Leah's life was taken away in matter of minutes. Because of me.

Maybe if I caught myself before she knocked me off my feet with her beauty as soon as she walked in through the door, none of this would've happened. I was so deep in thought I knew I was hallucinating when I saw her tall figure coming out of the hallway.
Her dark skin looked as glowy as I remembered it to be. Her curls fell nicely on top of her bare shoulders; she was wearing the white short gown I gave Y/N on her first night here. A wave of confusion washed over me when Leah starting looking more like her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Jonathan's voice brought me back to reality. It hurt my ears to suddenly become so aware of my surroundings. I grunted in pain when I felt tweezers pierce my wound. Ross was in front of me while Murph held me steady. My sight traveled from Ross' dirty blond hair to the figure standing at the hallway. It was Y/N this entire time.

"I-I just wanted to see how Michael— er, what was going o-on." She stuttered as her bare feet shifted.

The corners of my mouth slightly lifted into a grin. It didn't last long though, all of this is happening because of me. If there is any way I can protect this girl, is by keeping my distance. Something I was ordered to do in the first place.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Jonathan threw the gun across the living room. He seemed to charge for Y/N. Before he got a grip of her hair, Alex was quick enough to throw a punch towards his jaw. "I said that was enough!
First you make Ross let the eggs break and I'm not gonna let you rip my girl's scalp!"

Jonathan couldn't hear a word though, he was knocked out as soon as his body hit against the floor. It wasn't too long until he started snoring.

"Damn, you really put his ass to sleep," Murph hissed, his grip on my shoulder tightening as I shifted uncomfortably while Ross was trying to get a grip of the bullet with the tweezers.

I immediately looked back up to where Y/N was standing. She looked like she had been crying and shot me an apologetic look. She took a hesitant step into the living room.
"Is Michael going to be okay?" She glanced at Murph. It was easy for me to tell that she was trying to avoid looking at my wound.

"I'm sure he will be," Alex placed his arm around her and carefully turned around to the kitchen. "It's not the first time his dumbass gets in this kind of trouble." He shot me a nagging glare before turning her attention to her. "Let's get you something to eat."

Y/N looked back at me over Alex's arm. I couldn't help but offer her a small smile. She took a quick look at Jonathan's temporarily-lifeless body on the floor before paying attention to what Alex was talking to her about, probably to distract her from this madness.

This girl. . . she makes me feel hopeful. Maybe it's not too late to chase our dreams after all. I tried to shake the thought away, for it would be too risky. But maybe. . . maybe we have a chance this time.

"I got it, Mike. Don't move," Ross advised. I clenched my jaw, awaiting the relief from the bullet being pulled out of my skin.

"Dude, you like this chick," Murph murmured and slightly nudged my back.

I scoffed. "Please."
Maybe.

"She's a really cool and talented girl, that's all." I shrugged the unwounded shoulder.

"Yeah. Sure, man." He giggled.

I rolled my eyes, later watching Y/N and Alex communicate as if they were soulmates. She seemed to enjoy Alex's company, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. I wish she was sitting next to me, talking about her song ideas; quietly humming random tunes that came to her mind. I felt comfort just by thinking about it.

"Mikey has a crush, Mikey has cruu-ush," Murph sang mockingly. I immediately nudged him with my elbow.

"Stay still," Ross reminded me.

"Sorry." I apologized, rolling my eyes at Murph.

Y/N's POV
3:02 am
I have been staring at the ceiling for too long. Even though I woke up 5 minutes ago, it felt like forever. Yesterday was only the first day, so I cannot imagine what the next ones are bringing upon us. Not to be a pessimist, but at this point I don't really know what else to expect.
I began wondering if anybody's been worried about me. I had perfect assistance in school and it's only October. The memory of me leaving school late for the last time brought a smile to my face, before I was abducted. I could even smell the jacket I was wearing by then.
I immediately sat up on my bed.

Wait a fucking minute, how come I didn't remember?

It didn't take me long to remember my phone was on my jacket's pocket. I hope it didn't fall out when I was being taken away. Jonathan always leaves at this time of the night, meaning this is the perfect chance to search for my phone.

I didn't hesitate this time. I pulled the covers away from my feet and confidently went for the door. Michael's room is next to mine; hoping he's not awake, I tiptoed down the hallway and quickly went up the staircase past the kitchen.

Let's see, I sighed as my eyes scanned the dark, small hallway in front of me. At the end there was an open door to what looked like a studio with bookshelves. There were two other doors but I decided to go for the one that was ajar. I gently pushed the wooden door to find myself in what looked like Jonathan's bedroom, since he's the only one missing. I slowly walked into the room and made my way towards the bedside table to turn the small lamp on. Jonathan's famous for coming back sooner than expected, so I must hurry.

I grew anxious as I couldn't find any signs of my jacket around the room. Until my bare foot made contact with denim fabric from under the bed. I pulled it out with my feet and there was my jacket. I felt triumphant, until there was no sign of my phone after searching the pockets. I sighed and kneeled on the floor.
I looked back at the bedside table's drawers. Maybe there's something.

I pulled open the first drawer to find it was full of junk; papers, chargers, pens, random USB cables that people usually keep 'just in case', old bills and mails. It took me two minutes to search the entire drawer only to be disappointed again. Nothing.
I still had to search the drawer underneath, though.

I pushed the first drawer back and proceeded to open the second one. My face cringed at the smell of weed that oozed out as soon as I opened it. There was a small laptop and on top was standing a couple of ziplock bags with weed and other substances. My eyes stopped on the two passports and tickets hanging loosely from them next to the laptop. What sparked my curiosity was the date: November 3rd.

Without hesitation I grabbed the passports and tickets to examine them. The numbness I was feeling yesterday was immediately replaced with fear and anxiety as soon as I read the information on both tickets.

BOARDING PASS

Passenger Name:
Rossi, Y/N
From:
NEW YORK
To:
VENICE, ITALY
Date:
03NOV

BOARDING PASS

Passenger Name:
Rossi, Jonathan
From:
NEW YORK
To:
VENICE, ITALY
Date:
03NOV

These have been forged, that is not my last name. It's not even possible to fly to Italy directly from New York, as far as I know. A shaky breath was released from my lips as I opened the passports. Same thing.

What is this man up to?

"Nobody likes a wannabe Paul Pry."

I gasped in terror and slid the passports with the tickets into the side of my underwear. Gross, I know.

I stood up and turned around only to face a man I've never seen before. His stubby beard made me feel itchy just by looking at him. His skin was light and his hair was flawlessly styled to the side like a teenage boy would. I felt intimidated by his height. I gulped as I looked up at him, "Who are you?"

He flashed a crooked smile as he leaned against the doorway, folding his arms across his chest. "Sweetheart, you shouldn't be here."

"You didn't answer my question." I folded my arms, trying to act natural. As if my heart wasn't racing right now.

"My name's Lew. Jonathan's newest man," he presented himself. "I forge documents. In fact, I worked those you were just looking at."

"How long have you been standing there?" I gulped.

"Enough to see you slip them under that cute little dress you're wearing." He bit his lip as his eyes scanned from my waist down.
I shifted uncomfortably.

"What is Jonathan up to? What is all this?" I tried to distract his eyes from my body. "Why is there only two tickets? What about the oth-"

"I'm afraid that's none of your business, doll face." He interrupted me,  "Now why don't you hand those over, huh?" He started inching closer to me. I slowly started to back out.

"It is my business because my name is written with a fake last name here." I gulped for what felt like the 30th time.

"You were not meant to find these, Y/N." He reminded me, still walking closer. "You're supposed to stay pretty and quiet in your room."

I stumbled against the bedside table behind me and proceeded to the side. However, there was no more room; I was against the wall. My breathing quickened. Not this again.

"By the way, Jonathan advised me to stay away from you. And I wondered, how bad could it be? Why is he telling me this?" He imitated his voice sarcastically. He was only a few inches away from me now, still moving closer. "But now that I look at you. . . Damn, no wonder he asked me to do such thing."

"Please, back off." My beg was almost a whisper.

"I'm sure he doesn't need to know that I had a little taste." He chuckled as he threw himself onto me and gripped my waist as tight as possible.

"No, please!" I shrieked as his lips slobbered on my neck. I was petite compared to this man's size. Every effort I made just made me weaker.

I screamed out the first name that came to my head. "Mic-"

Lew's huge hand covered my mouth. Even though my screams for help were muffled, I was hoping I could be heard in this massive home. The back of my head thudded against the wall since Lew pinned me against it. His free hand caressed my inner thigh and slightly rubbed my inner part through my underwear.

My head was burning from how much I was screaming and crying. I could've kicked him in the nuts if he wasn't also using his legs to keep me in place. His hand traveled to the waistband of my underwear, finally reaching the passports I stole with the tickets inside. He took his hands off me to slip the passports inside his pants.

I took this chance to test my strength. I slapped the shit out of him and tried to run away. Only to be pulled back and pushed onto the bed. Before I could stand up, Lew already had me pinned down by my wrists and with his body.

"I didn't expect you to be so feisty." He laughed darkly and gripped my throat.
Before I could scream for help, it was already here.

I screamed at sudden sound that was like an explosion. My ears were ringing terribly and I had to look away so the liquid that suddenly oozed onto my face didn't get into my eyes or mouth. Lew suddenly became extremely heavy, I struggled to push him away. Until I realized, he's dead.

I gasped desperately and managed to push him off me. He fell to the floor with a loud thud as blood continued to ooze out from his. . . brain. I felt immediately disgusted when I noticed I had his blood on my hair, my face, and upper body.

When I finally searched from where the bullet came from, the only person standing at the doorway was Michael with a gun in his hand.