9

She was not just another pawn in this game; she was a prize worth fighting for.

As the auctioneer began to speak, my pulse quickened.

The excitement in the room surged, and I could feel the energy building, charging the atmosphere with possibility.

I knew I had to have her.

The thought burned in my mind, stronger than any other desire I had ever felt.

I positioned myself closer to the front, where I could keep my eyes locked on her. I studied her—how she held herself, the way she seemed to stand a little taller despite the uncertainty swirling around her.

I could see the flicker of fear in her eyes, but there was also a glimmer of defiance.

She was strong, and that only fueled my desire to possess her even more.

As the auctioneer’s voice boomed through the room, calling out prices and names, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have her by my side.

To feel her strength mix with mine, to teach her about the world I came from—the darkness, the power, the thrill of control.

She might have been raised in a sheltered life, but I would show her everything she had been missing.

With each bid that rose, I felt a fire ignite within me.

I knew I was ready to take the risk, to fight for her, no matter the cost.

Amina would be mine, and nothing would stand in my way.

The auction was just the beginning, and as the gavel came down, I would make my claim.

I could feel it deep within me; she was destined to be part of my world, and I would stop at nothing to ensure it.

8

ARBEN

In the bustling auction house, the atmosphere was thick with tension, and the bidders were a mix of wealthy men who thrived on power and control.

Many of them had built their fortunes on the dark side of life, where money could buy anything, even people.

They weren’t just here for a night of entertainment; they were part of a bigger game—a business that profited from the trafficking of women.

As I watched the crowd, I noticed how these men interacted with one another, their conversations laced with casual familiarity.

They laughed and joked, completely unfazed by the lives of the women on display.

To them, this was just another transaction, another deal to make.

Some of the men had connections to organized crime, while others were wealthy businessmen looking to expand their influence.

The idea of owning a woman was like acquiring a new toy for them—a trophy to show off to their friends or a pawn to use in their twisted games.

Human trafficking was a multi-billion-dollar industry, and these men were the players in that dark game.

They often operated in the shadows, moving women from one place to another, trading them like stock.

The auction was just one piece of the puzzle, a way for them to showcase their "merchandise" and attract potential buyers.

I overheard snippets of conversation that made my stomach churn: talks of how women were obtained, smuggled across borders, or lured in with false promises of jobs and a better life.

The bidders didn’t just buy women for companionship; they saw them as investments.

If they could get a woman at a low price, they could use her to generate profit, whether it was through forced labor, sex work, or even as a part of their criminal operations.

Some men were interested in keeping women as personal possessions, while others sought to resell them in different markets, often to the highest bidder.

I could see the way they appraised the women, eyes scanning them like they were shopping for a car or a piece of furniture.

They would comment on their looks, their age, and their potential value, treating each woman like an object rather than a person with thoughts and feelings.

 It was horrifying to witness, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me as I realized the extent of the cruelty in this world.

Some bidders flaunted their wealth, wearing expensive suits and flashy watches, while others were more discreet, blending into the crowd.