CHAPTER 003

Nyssa's POV:

The initial time they arrived, I believed it was the worst experience of my life. The screaming, the threats, the way they tore through our home like wild beasts—my mother frozen in place, unable to move, while I attempted to reason with men who only responded to violence.

For three days, I remained in a daze, trying to shut out the sound of their mocking laughter and curses as they raided our possessions, convincing myself they wouldn’t return.

I was mistaken.

The sudden banging of the door thrown open snapped me instantly awake. A sharp crack reverberated through the tiny house, accompanied by the heavy stomping of boots. My heart pounded violently against my chest. No. Not again.

I jumped out of bed, trembling all over. This time, my mother didn’t even scream. She just stood in the doorway of her room with her arms folded, watching as the men burst in.

“Where’s the money?” one of them snarled. I recognized him as the leader from before—the man with a jagged scar across his cheek.

My mother sighed unbothered, treating them as mere annoyances. “I told you, I don’t have it yet.”

Clutching the edge of my blanket until my knuckles turned white, I hoped she had some plan to appease them—that she wouldn’t be foolish enough to allow their return empty-handed. But then she glanced sideways, her bored eyes locking with mine.

“Take her with you, do whatever you want. I think she's worth what I'm owing you"

For a moment, I thought I had misheard. My whole body froze, breath caught in my throat. “What?”

Even the thugs hesitated, seemingly caught off guard. Scarred leader grinned. “You serious?”

My mother shrugged. “She is the only valuable possession i have all my life, maybe if she ever learns to take responsibility for her mother once and for all, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Something inside me shattered. I wanted to scream at her, to plead with her to take back her words, to fight for me just once. But she wouldn’t even look my way.

“Mom, please,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face as I moved closer to her, begging. “Don’t let them take me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop with the drama, Nyssa. You’ve been giving me headaches since the day you were born. I’ve spent most of my life taking care of you. Now it’s time for me to take care of myself—and you can’t handle that?”

Her words stabbed me like a knife in the heart. I had always obeyed, always tried to be enough for her. But in that moment, I understood the truth—my mother cared for no one but herself.

Rough hands seized my arms, pulling me backward as panic surged through me. I struggled fiercely. "No! Let me go!" I cried out.

"Silence her," one of the men snarled. They forced a thick piece of cloth against my mouth, silencing my screams. I kicked and resisted with all my strength, but it was futile.

As they hauled me toward the exit, I cast one final, silent look toward my mother, hoping she would intervene.

But she remained unmoved, her expression cold and detached.

And then, I was gone.

The journey dragged on, the blindfold pressing uncomfortably against my eyes.  My wrists throbbed where they were tightly bound. Each bump along the road unleashed fresh waves of terror inside me. I longed to scream or fight, but I knew it was pointless. These men were cruel and relentless; I was insignificant to them.

Tears stung behind my closed eyelids. What fate awaited me? Death? Sale?

I thought of my mother and how easily she had surrendered me. She had planned all these. She had assured me that she would fix the problem, not knowing I was the fixing she was talking about.

My blood boiled with anger and hatred. She had offered me to men who are dangerous and heartless, she had no remorse in her eyes. 

I always knew she did not love me. Yet this felt different—more painful. I vowed to make her pay.

The vehicle suddenly jolted to a halt. I inhaled sharply as doors swung open and rough hands dragged me onto uneven ground. The air was damp and metallic. From the sound of the gate opening, i kne2lw we have arrived at a warehouse.

They tore the blindfold away. For a moment, my eyes filled with tears before adjusting to the dim interior. The space was vast, with a high dark ceiling. Rusty metal beams loomed above, while the smell of oil and dust filled the air. In the distance, I could hear water steadily dripping.

Scar-faced man grinned at me. "Welcome to your new home, princess."

Swallowing my fear, I asked as steadily as I could, "What do you want from me?"

He shook his head with a smile. "That’s not up to me. Our boss will decide your fate."

A cold shiver ran down my spine. "Boss?"

A taller, bulkier man leaned in close. "You’re just collateral, sweetheart. Your mother owes us, and now you make sure we get what’s due."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "She doesn’t care about me. You really think she’ll pay?"

The scar-faced man’s grin wavered and faded. Then he shrugged. "Maybe not. But that’s not our problem. You will pay on her behalf "

He motioned to the others, and once again they dragged me forward, pulling me into a small, frigid room at the back of the warehouse. My heart pounded as they shoved me inside. The metal door slammed shut with a hollow bang.

Darkness enveloped me.

I have no idea how long I sat there. Hours, possibly. The quiet was suffocating, crushing me like a weight. My throat was hoarse from crying, my body trembling with fatigue. I tried to think, to come up with a solution to this, but my brain kept returning to the same refrain.

She sold me out. She didn't even hesitate.

A sob slipped out before I could grab it. I pressed my hands against my face, curling in.

Would anyone even take the time to come for me? Did I even matter enough for someone to try it?

Something outside made me jump. Footsteps. Muffled voices. I held my breath as the door creaked open, light pouring in.

Scar-cheek stood in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. You’ve got company.”

Behind him, a figure stepped into the light.

I looked up, my breath catching in my throat as terror shot through my body like a lightening.