My Father’s Test Turns Lovers Into Killers

The Cassano family has a strange tradition. Any man who wants to marry me has to go into a dark room with my father for his “test.” Only the ones who pass get to be with me. But over the years, I’ve had several boyfriends, and every single one of them came out of that room a different person, with murder in their eyes. My fifth boyfriend, Dominic, scoffed at the idea. “It’s just some old-school scare tactic.” “I love you, and I want to marry you,” he promised. “Don’t worry, baby.” He went in. When he came out, he looked at me like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe. “You filthy bitch. I can’t believe the Cassano family even lets you live.” He lunged at me, his hands wrapping around my neck, trying to kill me. I closed my eyes in despair. I don’t understand. What the hell is in that room? Why does everyone who enters come out wanting me dead? Chapter 1 Ten minutes ago, Dominic was laughing about my father’s “dark room test,” calling it an old-fashioned joke. Now, his hands were clamped around my neck, pinning me to the carpeted floor. I couldn’t breathe. The world started to go dark. “Dominic! Are you crazy? What did you see in there?!” I clawed desperately at his fingers, my nails digging bloody scratches into the back of his hands. “Shut up! I’m doing the world a favor!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot with pure disgust. He drove his knee hard into my stomach. White-hot pain exploded through me, stealing my breath. I curled into a ball, unable to scream. He got to his feet and kicked me hard in the ribs. Twice. The sharp point of his leather shoe made my vision go black. Without another glance, he turned and stormed out of the mansion. I lay on the floor, gasping for air, the taste of blood filling my throat. This was the fifth time. Ever since I turned twenty, every man who swore he loved me walked into that basement room and came out a monster who wanted to snap my neck. I had just managed to pull myself up using the sofa when a sharp pain shot through my chest. My father, Victor, sent me flying with a vicious kick. I crashed into the marble coffee table, shattering the glass top. The bodyguards in the mansion stood like statues, not daring to move. Victor calmly took off his suit jacket, then pulled a golf club from a nearby bag. “Nessa, this is the fifth time,” he said, his voice cold. “You’ve shamed our family again. I have to teach you a lesson.” The first swing came down on my left arm. A sickening crack echoed through the vast living room. My arm was broken. “Father… why…” I bit down on my lip, glaring at him. He didn’t answer. Just the relentless swing of the club. For a full half-hour. The club broke three of my ribs and my arm. He stood over me, looking down at my half-dead body. “Drag her back to her room,” Victor ordered, taking a hot towel from the butler and wiping his hands with slow, deliberate movements. “And keep a close eye on her.” That was their excuse: I was mentally unstable. Late that night, I lay in bed, biting on a bandage as I tried to set my own arm. Every time a “test” failed, my father punished me for shaming the family. I’d wondered if I wasn’t his real daughter, but a secret DNA test I’d done proved it: I had Cassano blood. I used to think he hated me because he hated my mother. But after she died, he turned down every offer of marriage from prominent families and even started a massive foundation in her name. To the entire New York mafia, he was known as the most devoted godfather. Only I knew he was a devil. The pain was making it hard to breathe. In a moment of desperation, I made a video call to my grandmother. The second the call connected, she saw my face and gasped, tears streaming down her face. “My God! How could he do this to you!” Less than twenty minutes after she hung up, the screech of tires echoed outside the mansion. My uncle Marcus, a hot-tempered mob boss in his own right, kicked the front door off its hinges, a dozen heavily armed bodyguards flanking him. “Victor! You son of a bitch! I’m putting a bullet in your head today!” Marcus yelled, pointing a gun straight at Victor’s face. Fighting through the pain, I held onto the staircase railing, hoping my uncle would finally get me out of this hell. Facing the barrel of the gun, Victor remained silent. He just gave Marcus a cold look, then turned and walked toward the heavy iron door that led to the basement. “If you’ve got the guts, come on in.” Marcus sneered, cocked his gun, and followed him. “Let’s see what kind of game you’re playing.” The iron door slammed shut. The living room was dead silent. My heart was pounding, a terrible feeling washing over me. Ten minutes. The door opened again. Marcus walked out. His eyes had changed. The anger and concern were gone, replaced by a deep, chilling disgust. He stood at the top of the stairs, looking down on me. His eyes were ice. “Uncle…” I whispered, my own eyes wide with terror. This time, he didn’t pull me behind him to protect me. Instead, his hand shot out and he ripped the sapphire necklace from my neck. It was my mother’s. The last thing she ever gave me, placed around my neck with her own hands before she died. The only piece of her I had left. The clasp tore my skin and I cried out, my hands flying up to get it back. “No! Give it back to me!” “You don’t deserve this,” Marcus snarled, his fist clenched tight around the necklace. His voice was a shard of glass. “You don’t deserve any part of her.” “Marcus! What are you doing?!” Grandmother shrieked, rushing in. He leaned in close to her, whispering something in her ear. I couldn’t hear the words. But I saw the color drain from her face. She collapsed into a chair, her normally kind face twisting into something ugly and hateful. “Take it,” she screeched, her finger pointing at me, her whole body shaking. “Take everything of her mother’s! I have no granddaughter! Not a disgusting thing like her!” Marcus gave me one last, cold look. He pocketed the necklace and walked out of the manor without a backward glance, his men right behind him. The pain of losing my mother’s last gift, the agony my father had left me with—it all crashed down on me at once. I don’t know how long I lay there on the cold floor. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged away like a sack of trash before everything went black. Chapter 2 Sharp pain woke me from unconsciousness. I was lying on the back lawn of the mansion, the night wind cold enough to cut through bone. Crows by the fountain pecked at my open wounds, mistaking me for a corpse. Fighting off a wave of dizziness, I stumbled back to my room, careful not to make a sound. I was done with this endless abuse. I couldn’t just wait to die. I had to save myself. After the third fiancé left, I’d called the police. I suspected they were being hypnotized in that room. But the police sent a doctor who found no signs of hypnosis. My fiancés genuinely, truly hated me. The family elders and the staff all told the police I was hallucinating from drugs. In the end, the cops yelled at me for wasting their time and left. As punishment, Victor locked me in the unheated wine cellar for a week. No food. Only ice water. I’d tried to run away, too. But no matter where I went, my father’s bodyguards always found me. I knew I had to have a tracker implanted somewhere in me. After weeks of careful probing, I finally found it. I stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door, my eyes landing on a pair of sharp scissors on the counter. I bit down hard on a towel, plunged the scissors into my left arm, and dug out the tiny, raised chip under my skin. Blood dripped down my arm. Right before the pain made me pass out, I managed to call my best friend, Sarah. “Help me… bring the cops.” An hour later, sirens tore through the quiet of the estate. Sarah burst into my room with police and paramedics. “Victor! You tyrant!” Sarah screamed when she saw me covered in blood, grabbing the front of his suit. “What did you do to Nessa?! She’s your daughter! Why would you do this?” The cops frowned at the scene. “Mr. Cassano, you have some explaining to do.” “Officer,” Victor said, not angry at all. He straightened his tie and gave them a perfect, fake smile. “This is all a misunderstanding. If you’d be willing to follow me to the dark room for a moment, everything will become clear.” The dark room. Again. My heart stopped. Despair wrapped around my neck like a snake. “Don’t go!” I screamed, throwing myself at the officer’s legs and holding on for dear life. “Please, I’m begging you, don’t go in there!” “Ma’am, please calm down.” The male officer pried my hands off him. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” They went in. The heavy iron door closed again. I collapsed on the floor, shaking. Ten minutes later. The door was thrown open with a bang. The male officer stormed out, his face grim. SMACK! SMACK! He slapped me twice, hard, without hesitation. I fell to the floor, my ears ringing. “If this body cam wasn’t rolling, I’d put a bullet in you myself,” he snarled, his gaze burning with disgust. Sarah was in shock. “You can’t just hit her! I’ll file a complaint!” He turned and whispered something in Sarah’s ear. Sarah’s body went rigid. She slowly turned back to me, her eyes wide with horror, as if she were looking at a monster. “Nessa… you make me sick,” Sarah said, her voice trembling. “You’re human garbage.” She didn’t even look at me again before she turned and ran out of the mansion. “Listen to me,” the officer warned coldly. “If you ever waste police resources again, I’ll personally throw you in a maximum-security prison.” “But she looks like she’s been beaten half to death…” the female officer said, looking at me with pity. The male officer pulled her away, whispering something to her as they walked. The female officer, who had just felt sorry for me, now looked at me with the same revulsion. All hope was gone. I lay on the cold floor like a corpse. Why? Why? Victor looked down at me. “Look at all the trouble you’ve caused me.” “Now, how should I punish you?” “Throw her in the old kennels out back,” he ordered coldly. “Let her think about what she’s done. Three days.” I was dragged by the bodyguards into a dark, stinking iron cage. Vicious, starving dogs eyed me hungrily. I had to fight to stay conscious, using every last bit of strength to fend off their attacks. But there was no water, no food. Just endless darkness and biting cold. The moment I let my guard down, one of them would sink its teeth into me. For three days, every second was hell. After three days, Victor finally showed mercy and had me released. The maids who passed by stared at me with a mixture of extreme disgust and fear. I was thrown back into my room and the door was locked. Just as I thought I would rot to death in there, I heard a soft click from the lock. It was Maya, the nanny who had raised me. She slipped in quietly, carrying a basin of hot water and medicine. Seeing my wounds, Maya’s eyes filled with tears. Her hands trembled as she cleaned my cuts. Her voice was a whisper, but it was firm. “We’re running away. I’m getting you out of this hellhole.” Chapter 3 “Maya…” I sobbed, clinging to her. In this cold, insane family, she was the only warmth I had left. “Don’t be afraid, Nessa. The guards change shifts tonight. I’ll take you through the old dog run in the back fence. I have savings. We’ll go to another city and never come back.” I nodded, choking back tears. Night fell, and the mansion was deathly quiet. I followed Maya, sticking to the shadows of the walls, moving step by step toward the backyard. Freedom was just on the other side of that fence. Just as we were about to reach the gap, blinding searchlights flashed on. The white beams pinned us in place. Victor stood before us with a dozen bodyguards, like a ghost in the night. “Good evening, Maya, Nessa,” Victor said, his voice flat. My mind went blank. I was too scared to even breathe. It was over. It was all over. But Victor wasn’t angry. He didn’t order anyone to hit me. He just walked up to Maya and stared at her. “You want to take her? Fine,” Victor said calmly. “All you have to do is step into my dark room. When you come out, the gates will be wide open. I won’t stop you.” The dark room again! “No! Absolutely not!” I screamed, grabbing Maya’s arm. “Maya, please, don’t go! It’s a trap! He’ll turn you into a monster!” I didn’t want freedom anymore. I couldn’t lose the last person in the world who cared about me. Maya turned and took my cold hands in hers. Her eyes were gentle but filled with resolve. “Nessa, listen to me.” She smoothed my messy hair. “I watched you grow up. I know who you are. I don’t care what secrets are in that room. I only care about you.” “But they all…” “Trust me,” Maya said, cutting me off. “I’ll come out, and I’ll take you away from here.” She let go of my hand and followed Victor toward that door to hell without a second’s hesitation. That night, I waited in my room until dawn. The first ray of sunlight hit my eyes as the door opened. But it wasn’t Maya. It was a cold-faced maid. She threw an envelope at my feet and left. My hands trembled as I opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper. Maya’s familiar handwriting scrawled two words that cut me deeper than any blade: Just die. I stared at the paper, my tears gone. I heard the sound of my own heart dying. My hope had crumbled, leaving not even ash behind. Two hours later, the door was kicked open again. Victor strode in, looming over me where I was crumpled on the floor. “This is the price for trying to run,” he said, his voice flat. His eyes were full of scorn. Looking at him, so high and mighty, I started to laugh. The laughter grew, wild and unhinged. I sounded like a lunatic. I scrambled to my feet, my hair a mess, dried blood caked on my skin, and stared him dead in the eye. “You satisfied now?!” I shrieked. “Seeing me like this?! I’m done running! But if I’m going to die, I’m damn well going to know why!” “Let me in the dark room! I want to see it! Now!” Victor looked at me, a strange emotion flickering in his eyes. He lowered the crop and was silent for a long time. “Fine,” he finally said. Dusk fell, the setting sun the color of blood. I followed Victor down the steps to the basement. The air grew colder, the suffocating pressure closing in. CLANG— The heavy iron door slowly opened before me. There were no torture devices, no demons. Just blinding, cold-white lights and a massive screen covering one entire wall. I stared at it, my pupils dilating, the blood in my veins turning to ice. All the confusion, all the betrayals, suddenly made the most absurd, yet logical, sense. No wonder. “No wonder no one would marry me. It’s because…”