LOGINKiera’s POV
My eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust to the brightness of the light in the room, and as I looked around, I noticed several young girls, some younger than me, and others around my age.
The walls of the room were old and I could see some cracks on them. There was a fireplace, bed, and a bucket filled with things I couldn’t clearly see. Then my eyes settled on him–The man who has absolute power over my fate, surrounded by six able-bodied men and 4 middle-aged women.
“Strip!” He shouted, his voice echoing in the room.
Suddenly, some of the girls began taking off their clothes, revealing their bare bodies.
“What are the rest of you buffoons waiting for?” He shouted.
Trembling, my hands began peeling my clothes off my body. My clothes were no longer moist, as they dried on me over the passing hours.
I watched as my clothes fell to the floor and my hands quivered as I pulled off my pants. No man had ever seen my bare body, not even Miguel.
“Now, turn around,” he instructed, and we obeyed.
The room was deathly silent, save for the sound of his footsteps as he approached us.
“One, two, three, four….” He counted until he reached the final number 15.
“Many call me the devil in a human’s flesh, others call me Voldemort. However, I'm just a simple man, and if you follow my instructions, you will be in my good books. Otherwise, you wouldn’t wanna live to see what comes next. From today, you answer to me, you belong to me, you report to me, and take instructions from me, until you get new masters.”
I got lost there, because what did he mean by new masters? My mind was still processing what he said when he continued.
“I El Diablo, am your god from now. Is that clear?” He demanded.
“YES!” We responded in unison, tears running down my cheeks as the word came out of my mouth.
From getting the most unexpected heartbreak of my life to becoming someone’s property, that’s how my life switched within a twinkle of an eye. My world which was already crumbling has now fallen to ruins. I have nothing left, no hope for redemption. I am now a property of the devil himself.
“You’re in the hands of the Madams now. Don’t make their job difficult,” he said exiting the room.
“Turn around,” one of the Madams instructed.
“I’m Naomi, and these are my sisters, Lucy, Leah, and Carolina,” she introduced.
They placed a bucket of water and towel in front of each of us and instructed us to wash our bodies.
After we were done, the Madams stood around the bed, and Madam Naomi picked up a pair of gloves from the bucket. Next, she took out a rod, which looked to me like it had a mark on it.
“Come forward, one by one, and lay on the bed. This process would be excruciatingly painful, yet swift. So brace yourselves.”
Swiftly, the first girl climbed onto the bed, and Madam Leah and Carolina strapped her legs and hands to the bedrail, while Madam Lucy gagged her with a cloth.
WTF were they about to do?
Immediately, Madam Naomi heated the rod in the fireplace and pressed it on the girl’s thigh.
My body instantly turned cold and my eyes gaped in terror. Holy hell! My soul almost escasped my body. I had witnessed cruelty throughout my life, but this... this was pure barbarity.
The girl struggled, but there were only muffled moans coming from her. Her eyes were dripping with tears, as the pain lashed through her body. After about a minute, she became calm and the Madams released her. Immediately one of the able-bodied men picked her up and took her out of the room.
The next girl was hesitant, she cried and pleaded and even attempted to run but two of the men picked her up and strapped her to the bed.
Time and again, the girls passed out from so much pain after the procedure and finally, it was my turn.
I swallowed hard as I climbed the bed. I felt my feet and my wrists secured to the safety rails and the next thing I felt was a stinging pain from the depths of hell, instantly sending shock to my brain and I blanked out, my mind unable to withstand the torment.
***
“Wake up,” I felt someone tapping my shoulder.
I groaned, stretching out my hands.
“Where am I?” I asked, looking around.
I found myself wearing a loose pajamas, with no recollection of how I had ended up in them.
The room was small and dimly lit. It held a congregation of lost souls of about 30 girls like me, their faces smeared with fear and sadness, and I recognized some from earlier. Some chattered nervously, while others lay sprawled on bunk beds or the cold floor.
My legs swung over the edge of the bed, and a sharp pain flared from my thigh.
“Ouch!”
I glanced down, tracing the branding wound—a cruel eagle mark with an “El” inscription etched into my skin.
“Sorry… The pain will last for a few days, so just try to be strong,” the girl said. “Anyways my name is Emerald. What’s yours?” She asked, sitting beside me.
“Kiera,” I responded, my voice a little above a whisper.
“What’s this place?”
Clearing her throat, she glanced around, “Some of us call it the slaughterhouse. Don’t let the name scare you. Girls are brought here to be groomed and cleaned up to be playthings for men. Every night, some of us are auctioned off to different men, and the ones that fail to get auctioned, are kept here. So this is basically our home for now.”
My stomach churned as my face contorted into a pool of disgust, “You mean El Diablo sells us to men?”
She nodded in response, “That’s how he gets his money back. I’m here because my mom needed money for surgery and I turned to El Diablo for help. I never knew I was selling my soul to the devil. I've been here for 2 weeks, and I heard that one month is the maximum time you can spend here if not…” She paused, and I instantly understood what she meant.
“So why do we get branded if we’re eventually gonna be sold?” I demanded.
“So that wherever we go, we will be reminded that we were once his property. He loves to mark his territory.”
“Has anyone tried to escape?” I questioned curiously, my eyes darting around.
“Two girls tried to escape. Once they were caught, they were never seen again,” she confessed.
Right on cue, the door swung open and two men stormed in.
“It’s time,” one of them uttered and one after the other, the girls made their way through the door.
Suddenly, Emerald’s hand brushed mine, “Obey and survive. Hopefully, I’ll see you later,” she said, walking behind me.
GABRIEL’S POVWhat the hell was Damien thinking coming all the way to Abuela's? Did the man ever stop to calculate before leaping? He had that maddening habit of showing up unannounced, stirring the pot, and leaving everyone to deal with the aftermath of his chaos.1 It was his signature move, a tornado of charm and destruction that left the rest of us to pick up the pieces.I flicked the pen in my hand, the metallic click-clack breaking the oppressive silence of my office. Back and forth, over and over, a metronome for my spiraling thoughts. The events of the past few days replayed in my head, a fucked-up highlight reel that was adding fuel to the slow-burning fire in my chest.Kiera insisted on coming into work today, claiming she was fine, but I wasn’t having it. Not after the pool incident. Watching her struggle for breath, her face pale and vulnerable, was an image seared into the back of my fucking eyelids. I couldn't erase it if I tried. She needed rest, not spreadsheets and boa
MIGUEL’S POV"Because he won’t even realize you’re gone. Diego here will send him a message from your phone, tell him there’s a little traffic, and buy us some time. Then, you will help me destroy your husband.”I let the words hang in the stale air of the warehouse, watching them sink into her perfect, porcelain skin. Mrs. Diaz. Always so fucking pristine. I watched her face, a beautiful canvas of emotions shifting from defiance to a dawning, sickening horror. That's it. Let it sink in. Let it crawl up your spine and wrap around your throat."I will do no such thing," she said, her voice a shaky little thing trying so hard to sound like iron. Cute, but her loyalty didn’t mean shit to me.A slow, predatory smile stretched my lips. It didn't reach my eyes, "We shall see," I murmured, my voice a low rumble. I didn't need to shout. The quiet was always scarier.With a lazy flick of my wrist, I gave the order. No words, just a slight turn of my hand. Joe and Diego, knew exactly what it me
MIGUEL’S POVThe chiming of my phone was persistent as fuck, dragging me from a restless sleep that felt more like a coma. I reached out and saw it was the alarm I'd set. Shit, it was already 4pm, and I still felt like I'd been run over by a truck. The other side of the bed was empty, the imprint of Freya's body still warm against the sheets. Her absence didn't surprise me, neither did it bother me.Elise could be right, Freya might be faking all this bullshit, but what if she wasn't? I'd known Freya since I was in fucking diapers, and at some point I could say I was in love with her, but it faded. Childhood infatuation, nothing more.I couldn't push her away now, not with the whole amnesia circus, so, Elise would have to deal with that. My decision was made. Elise would play along until Freya's health improved, or until I figured out what game that bitch was actually playing.I sat up, my muscles stiff from yesterday's chaos. Sliding out of bed, I headed for the shower. As the water
ELISE’S POVI can't believe we actually stayed overnight at this godforsaken hospital. The clock on the wall was ticking with this infuriating slowness, each second stretching like it was personally trying to piss me off. It was 4 a.m., and we were still stuck in this sterile sh*thole, waiting for her royal highness, Freya. Trust me, I hadn’t left Miguel’s side. I was not gonna give that manipulative snake any chance to seduce my man anymore than she already had.Miraculously, the doctor had declared her fit to be discharged. Her mom had gone, thanks to an emergency that was more important than her daughter’s health, after she had emotionally baited Miguel to agree to play Freya’s husband till she recovers. “She’s now in your care,” the witch said giving me a once over before she finally dragged her old ass away. Well, good riddance.Meanwhile Freya was putting on this whole fragile act, clutching Miguel's arm like he was her personal life support, and I was standing there fantasizing
KIERA’S POVMy heart was hammering so hard I felt like I was about to have a heart attack and become a literal ghost haunting this shitty motel. The knock came again, softer this time, almost hesitant, and I stood there staring at the door. I was still sweating from that damn dream, still half-convinced I was hallucinating. Could it be Gabriel? Brain, shut up. We are not doing this right now.Without letting another seconds go by, I grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, and it was Damien.He stood there looking absolutely wrecked, his hair a mess like he'd been running his hands through it, his eyes dark and intense and fixed on me with this expression that made my stomach do a full Olympic gymnastics routine. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier but somehow he looked different."Damien," I breathed, and I didn't know if it was a question or relief or me just being pathetic."Can I come in?" His voice sounded rough, scraped raw.I stepped back without thinking because a
KIERA'S POVOh for f*ck's sake. What did I do to deserve this kind of torture? I was standing in that lobby staring at the peeling wallpaper and wondering which god I'd pissed off in a past life. Talk about a cosmic joke. One room? Seriously? Who’s writing this shit, and why does my life suddenly feel like a setup? Except, there was nothing remotely funny about this. Not when every nerve in my body is screaming.My eyes flicked between Gabriel and Damien, trying to get a read on their reactions. Gabriel's face was a stone wall, while Damien, on the other hand, was clenching his jaw so hard I was genuinely concerned he might grind his molars into dust.Suddenly, an old, shrill telephone rang, and the receptionist, or fossilized hag, whatever the hell she was, stretched out her wrinkled hand and picked it up."Yeah, there's just one room left. A couple people here, but I don't know if they'll take it." Her gaze roamed to us, sizing us up like we were livestock at an auction, and I shift
KIERA'S POVI felt like a spectator trapped in the front row of a tornado. Gabriel and Damien were locked in a heated argument, their voices rising and falling like waves crashing against the shore. It was clear that the tension between them ran deeper than mere sibling rivalry; it was complex.When
KIERA’S POVIt was around 8 PM when I sprawled on my bed, snug under my comforter, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. Suddenly, Gabriel’s name lit up the screen, and a familiar knot twisted in my stomach like a vice.“Why’s he calling me?” I muttered, annoyance creeping in as I reluctantly answe
KIERA’S POVI woke up feeling surprisingly rejuvenated. Apparently, a solid night’s sleep does wonders for the soul. The anger I was nursing over Gabriel had dulled to a mild irritation, like a mosquito bite.I decided right then, no more expectations. I’d step up as the fake fiancé he needed—no str
ELISE’S POVI had just finished having lunch, and I casually strolled to the bedroom, trying to shake off the feeling of emptiness that lingered. It was becoming a habit for Miguel to skip not just dinner with me but lunch, too. For the last two days, he had chosen to sleep in another room, and I fe







