8

Tears welled up in my eyes, burning and blurring my vision.

My body felt cold, frozen in place as the horror of his words settled over me like a suffocating blanket.

How could this be happening?

How could he even consider this?

I looked at him, at the man who was supposed to protect me, to shield me from the world’s worst evils, and I didn’t recognize him.

“You can’t sell me,” I whispered, my voice trembling as my worst fears took shape. “I’m your daughter. You can’t just—”

My voice broke again, and I couldn’t finish the sentence.

The words felt too monstrous, too impossible.

He sank to his knees in front of me, his face crumpling as tears slipped down his cheeks.

“I know, Amina. I know, but I have no choice. I owe them everything. If I don’t—”

“If you don’t, then what?” I snapped, anger surging through me like wildfire, momentarily burning through the fear. “Then you suffer, so you sell me instead? Is that it?”

My hands were shaking, and I balled them into fists at my sides, desperate to hold onto something—anything—that made sense.

But none of this made sense.

“It’s not that simple!” he cried, his voice cracking with desperation. “They’re going to kill me, Amina. They’ll kill you if I don’t do this. You don’t understand what they’re capable of.”

I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t want to believe that the man who had raised me, who had promised me the world, could betray me like this.

My chest heaved, and I felt a sob rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

I couldn’t break—not now.

Tears streamed down his face, and I could see that he was already broken, but that didn’t matter.

It didn’t change the fact that he was handing me over like some object to be bartered with.

Like I was nothing.

“I trusted you,” I whispered, my voice raw with pain. “I thought you’d protect me.”

His face crumpled further, and he looked away, ashamed.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

That’s all he had to say…

Sorry.

7

ARBEN

I arrived at the auction house, and the atmosphere was electric, buzzing with tension and anticipation.

The moment I stepped inside, I could feel the weight of the air pressing down on me, thick with the scent of money and desire.

This was the world I thrived in—where power and control dictated every move, and where fortunes could change hands in an instant.

My heart raced with excitement; I was ready to make my move.

The auction house was a grand old building, with high ceilings and ornate decorations that whispered of a more glamorous past.

Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, their light reflecting off the polished floors, casting dancing shadows around the room.

But beneath the surface beauty, I could sense the darker undertones—the greed, the desperation, and the hunger for power that filled the hearts of the people gathered here.

As I scanned the crowd, I noticed the way the bidders stood shoulder to shoulder, each one a potential enemy, their eyes glinting with ambition.

Men and women dressed in sharp suits and elegant dresses filled the room, each of them ready to fight for what they desired.

But my attention was drawn to one person among them—the girl with fierce eyes and an undeniable strength that belied her small frame.

Amina.

From the moment my gaze landed on her, everything else faded away.

The noise of the auctioneer's voice, the murmurs of the crowd, all became a distant hum.

She stood there, a captivating figure, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, framing a face that radiated a mix of innocence and fierce spirit.

A chill ran down my spine when our eyes met, and I felt something shift in the air between us, a connection that was both thrilling and terrifying.

I had been watching her for a while, lurking in the shadows, hidden from view.

Each stolen glance felt like a secret, a silent understanding that drew me closer to her.

I knew about her life—the struggles she faced, the burden of her father's debts—and it intrigued me.

She was trapped in a world that wanted to cage her, but I saw the fire within her, the strength that made her different.