I woke up to a throbbing headache, my body feeling as if it had been crushed under a boulder. Every muscle ached, exhaustion weighing me down like a heavy blanket. My head was foggy, my thoughts sluggish. Did I sleep on a rock? I tried to move, to shift positions, but something was wrong. I wasn't lying down, I was sitting. And when I tried to turn, my body wouldn't obey.
Panic struck.
Memories of the night came flooding back, crashing into me like a tidal wave. The street. The cab. The footsteps behind me. The hand clamping over my mouth. The sharp sting in my neck.
My eyes snapped open, wide with fear.
The dim, flickering light above revealed the harsh reality of my surroundings. Rusted iron bars loomed in front of me, enclosing a small, filthy space. The air was damp, reeking of mold and something metallic—blood, maybe. My hands and feet were bound tightly to a chair, the rough straps biting into my skin.
I struggled, yanking against my restraints, but they only dug in deeper, leaving angry red marks. My breath came fast, heart pounding. Where the hell was I?
A voice broke the silence.
"You're awake. We thought you were dead."
I snapped my head toward the sound and saw him, the short guy from the coffee shop, the one who had been with the huge, intimidating man.
My stomach clenched.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice hoarse. "You already agreed to wait until the weekend for your money. Or do you not want it anymore?"
The man chuckled, a slow, cruel smile stretching across his face. "Oh, we want our money. That's exactly why we're doing this."
I narrowed my eyes, my mind racing. "I don't see how tying me up is going to help you get paid." The man tilted his head, his smirk deepening.
Realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I get it. You think kidnapping me is going to speed up the process."
His smile faltered, eyes narrowing slightly.
I held his gaze, my own filled with defiance. "It's not going to work," I said, voice steady despite the fear crawling up my spine.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"You won't get a single cent this way," I said coldly. "Instead, you'll just end up wasting your own money keeping me here. And trust me, I'm not the kind of hostage that makes things easy." He let out a dark, twisted laugh, his amusement at my desperation making my skin crawl.
"Funny, right?" I sneered.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. "But it's the truth. Now untie me, and let's stick to the deal—you'll get your money by the weekend." My voice wavered slightly, but I pushed forward, hoping to reason with him. His smirk deepened. "Oh, sweetheart, you really don't understand the situation, do you?"
Dread coiled in my stomach. "Then why don't you explain it to me?" I shot back, masking my fear with defiance. He crouched down, his dark eyes gleaming with sick amusement. "Roberto agreed to use you to settle his debts."
I frowned, my mind scrambling to make sense of his words. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
He sighed dramatically, as if explaining something to a slow learner. "Roberto isn't just in debt to my boss. He owes five people in our squad—five. And that's not even counting the others. But he made a deal, my boss and the four others agreed to sell you off to clear his debt."
My entire body went cold.
"What?" My voice cracked, horror sinking its claws into me.
"You heard me." He stood up, stretching lazily, as if this was just another business transaction.
"No," I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. "No, he can't do that... He wouldn't—"
"But he did," the man interrupted with a satisfied grin. "And that's why you're here."
A sharp pang of betrayal twisted in my chest. My breathing grew erratic, my vision blurring with panic. "No, no, no," I gasped, yanking at my restraints. "Come back! We can work something out—I swear, I'll pay you!"
He laughed again, already turning for the door. "You? Pay? This isn't some pocket change we're talking about, sweetheart. The others are outside right now, waiting for the buyers to arrive so they can collect their money."
"No! Wait—please!" I struggled harder, my wrists burning from the rough restraints. But he didn't even look back. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, leaving me trapped in suffocating silence.
I know Uncle Roberto isn't a good man, but would he really sell me to settle his debts? Even if he's a drug addict, a gambler, a violent man, and an ex-convict, would he truly go that far?
I wanted to believe there was a limit, a line he wouldn't cross. But deep down, I already knew the answer. Still, something inside me resisted, clinging to the desperate hope that even he wouldn't be capable of this. But the reality was staring me in the face. He was capable. No matter how much I tried to deny it, the evidence was right here.
Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless. Any last shred of hope I had in humanity crumbled, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.
I sat there, unsure of how long it had been. The voices of the men outside drifted in—laughing, chatting, gambling. It was clear now. This was a gambling den.
The gate creaked open, and a woman stepped inside. She looked to be in her thirties, dressed in a tight black gown that hugged her curves, flashy accessories dangling from her wrists and ears. A wide, oddly shaped hat perched on her head, adding to her dramatic presence. She walked in with two towering men by her side—her bodyguards, I assumed. The short man from earlier and his companion followed, lingering near the entrance.
She approached me slowly, her sharp eyes scanning my face with unnerving intensity. I met her gaze, confusion tightening my chest.
"Hmmm," she murmured.
"I told you you'd like it," the short man said, stepping forward.
Like it? My stomach twisted. Were they talking about me?
The woman reached out, her fingers catching my chin as she tilted my face to the side, inspecting me like I was an object. Then, her hand moved downward, parting my coat.
"What are you doing?" Panic surged through me as I tried to pull away.
She ignored me, cupping my breast.
"Get your hands off me, you pervert!" I hissed, rage bubbling over. Without thinking, I spat in her face.
She wiped it off with a slow, measured movement, her expression unreadable. Then, turning back to the short man, she said, "I'll take it."
His face broke into a grin.
"What the hell is going on?" My voice wavered despite my attempt to sound strong. "Are you people insane? I'm not a damn object! You can't just—"
They ignored me, my words falling on deaf ears.
The woman reached into her purse, pulling out a checkbook. She scribbled something down, ripped out the check, and handed it over. The short man accepted it with a broad smile, passing it to his companion.
And just like that, the deal was done.
The woman turned on her heel. "Bring her," she ordered before walking out. One of the guards stepped forward, a glint of steel flashing as he cut the ropes binding me. The second my arms were free, I bolted.
Or at least, I tried.
I barely made it two steps before a strong hand caught me, yanking me backward with brutal force.
"Let me go!" I thrashed wildly, but his grip was like steel. He twisted my arms behind my back and slammed me against the wall. Pain shot through my shoulder. The second guard approached, a syringe in his hand.
"No—"
The sharp sting pierced my skin. Tears burned down my cheeks as the realization hit me like a truck.
This was real.
There was no escape.
I have be sold like a piece of property.
My body grew weak. My limbs felt heavy.
Is this really my fate?
Darkness swallowed me whole.