Romans de As Sana

Victor’s POVI stepped out of the car and headed toward the five star Stainley Hotel. Tonight, an auction would be held there.I came with a simple goal to acquire the latest prototype firearm being smuggled in. Unregistered in any system. The perfect toy for someone like me.My stride was wide, firm, intimidating.“Welcome, Mr. Victor.”Several hotel executives greeted me. This auction was strictly confidential.The basement of the old hotel gleamed, crystal lights reflecting off marble surfaces, the scent of expensive perfume mingling with the stench of fear and ambition.Escorted by my men, I entered and took my seat in the VIP section. The guests sat neatly, like pawns on a chessboard, all waiting to own something, to turn it into an asset. I was no different.But there was one variable I hadn’t calculated, one possibility that would make me forget my true purpose.A boy being auctioned.Nicholas Hayes.The child stole all of my attention.The first gavel struck. The auctioneer op

I fell silent for a moment. “Where should I go?”The call ended at the same time a message came in. An address. Short. No explanation. I read the address over and over again. An old warehouse. The outskirts of the city.My hands trembled as I entered it into the navigation. I knew this was foolish. I knew it was dangerous. But there was no other choice.Steven refused.Everyone refused.I was alone.The car pushed through the afternoon traffic. City lights flickered on one by one, but to me everything looked blurred and distant. I kept checking my phone, hoping though I didn’t even know what I was hoping for.A message came in.[Don’t bring anyone.]I replied quickly: [I’m alone.]A few seconds later:[Good.]I turned off my phone and placed it on the passenger seat. My hands returned to the steering wheel, gripping it so tightly it felt like if I let go, I would collapse.At a red light, I stared at my reflection in the windshield. My face was pale. My eyes were swollen. I barely rec

I didn’t sleep that night.Nor the nights that followed. Time felt rotten, its seconds reeking of blood and fear. I moved like a living corpse.Day one, I called a property agent.“My apartment, sell it fast. Any price.”There was a long pause before he replied, his voice cautious.“The market is down, Mrs. Margaretha. A quick sale could cut the value in half.”“It doesn’t matter,” I said flatly. “I need the money. Now.”Day two, the boutique.The boutique I built from nothing. The boutique I fought for, night after night of overtime and sleepless exhaustion, turning a single million dollars like a reckless gambler chasing fate.I signed the sales documents without rereading them.The name Maggie Fashion Shine felt as though it were being ripped straight out of my chest.Day three, jewelry.The diamond ring.The necklace inherited from my biological mother, who they said was a prostitute.The gold watch I once bought as proof that I had survived.I let them all go.I sold everything.

“Mom, Nick’s milk is finished.”That shrill little voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Nicholas my six year old son, whined as he tugged at the hem of my work shirt. I looked down at him, sharp obsidian eyes, a firm jawline beginning to form, and a cold aura that sometimes surfaced despite his young age.He was a perfect replica of the man the “bartender” who had spent one reckless night with me six years ago.A man whose identity remains a mystery to this day.“Yes, sweetheart. Mommy will make it once we arrive at Grandpa’s house,” I replied, gently stroking his jet-black hair.“Promise, Mom?”“I promise.”I kissed his chubby cheek. Nicholas is my only reason to keep living. I carefully invested the one million dollars I had six years ago to build my boutique, choosing to live frugally in a modest apartment for Nick’s future.“Mom, when will we get to Grandpa’s house?”“Very soon, Nick.”I would never allow anyone including his father, should he ever appear to take Nick away from me

“Meggie, let your sister marry Steven.”The words slipped so lightly from Mother’s lips, as if she were only asking me to share a slice of cake. I froze at the threshold of the living room. The scent of jasmine tea usually soothing, now felt suffocating. In front of me, my parents sat stiffly, their faces cold, as though they had just pronounced my death sentence.“Mom… you’re joking, right?” My voice nearly disappeared. “Our wedding is this week. The ring is already on my finger, the invitations have been sent. How could you—”“Olivia is dying, Meggie!” Father cut in thunderously. “She refuses to eat, her body is wasting away because of you and Steven. Do you really have the heart to watch your own sister die just for the status of being a wife?”I let out a bitter laugh as tears blurred my vision. All my life, I had been the shadow. If Olivia wanted my doll, I had to give it to her. If she wanted my room, I had to move out. But Steven? Ten years of building dreams together. Ten year