7

I fought my way to the top, never once looking back.

But Amina?

She’s been kept away from all of that.

She has no idea what kind of man I am, or what it means to belong to someone like me.

She’s been safe for too long.

But not anymore.

Now, she’s mine.

And I’m going to enjoy every second of showing her exactly what that means.

6

AMINA

The door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts.

My father stood there, his figure slouched against the frame, looking even more defeated than before.

His clothes hung off him like he had been shrinking day by day, collapsing in on himself under the weight of the world.

Dark circles framed his eyes—eyes that barely met mine now, like he couldn’t bear to look at me.

My throat tightened as I braced myself for whatever bad news he was about to deliver.

“Amina, I…”

His voice was shaky, almost fragile, like he was scared of the words that were about to come out.

“I have to talk to you.”

I felt my heart race, pounding against my ribs as a sense of dread crawled through me.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

I tried to keep my voice steady, but the fear leaked through.

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging even lower, as though the air he was drawing in was too heavy to bear.

The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating, like the walls were closing in.

I could feel it—something terrible was coming, something I wasn’t ready for.

He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to the floor, unable to face me.

“I’ve made some… decisions.”

There was something in his tone that sent a cold shock through me.

I didn’t like the sound of it, the way he said "decisions" like the word itself carried a weight neither of us could lift.

My stomach twisted, my skin prickling with a sudden chill.

“Dad, what are you talking about?”

He hesitated, shifting his weight like he was fighting an internal battle, trying to find the right words—or the least painful ones.

When he finally looked up, the devastation in his eyes hit me like a punch to the gut.

“It’s about the debts… I might have to sell something.”

The bottom dropped out of my world.

My heart stuttered, and for a moment, it felt like the room was spinning.

Sell something?

What could he possibly have left to sell?

Everything was already gone—my mother’s jewelry, the house we used to live in, the car.

There was nothing left.

Except…

My breath caught in my throat, and a horrible, suffocating realization settled over me.

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

“Sell what?” I whispered, my voice barely audible, though the words felt like they were screaming inside my head.

He hesitated again, and I saw it.

The shame, the guilt—everything he wasn’t saying.

He wouldn’t look at me, his eyes darting anywhere but toward mine, as though if he didn’t say it out loud, it wouldn’t be real.

But I knew.

I felt it in my bones, the weight of the inevitable pressing down on me, choking me.

My heart pounded so hard I thought I might pass out.

I couldn’t breathe, and my hands were trembling, but I forced myself to ask the question again, even though I was terrified of the answer.

“Please, Dad…” My voice cracked. “Don’t say it.”

He finally met my gaze, and the expression on his face shattered me.

His lips quivered, and for a moment, I saw the broken man he had become, beaten down by life and by choices that were no longer his own.

“I… I don’t have a choice, Amina,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “They… they want you.”

I felt the floor fall away beneath me, like I was sinking into a bottomless pit.

My chest tightened, and the air seemed to vanish from the room.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, my voice breaking. “No, you can’t do this. You can’t.”

“I tried—”

His voice broke, and he took a step toward me, desperate.

“I tried everything, Amina. I begged them, I offered them everything else, but it wasn’t enough. They want you.”