CHAPTER 3

(Angela's POV)

After I was sold for 50 million dollars, I fainted. When I awoke, I was shocked to discover my head resting on someone's thigh.

My blue eyes fluttered open because I recalled Isabella declaring that I would be sold as a sex slave to a mafia boss. I panicked, convinced I had already been taken against my will.

However, my blue eyes locked onto him—my elder sister's boyfriend.

How could this be?

Richard gazed at me calmly, his eyes never wavering from mine as his thin lips pressed into a firm line, refusing to explain anything.

I glanced down at my chest and sighed with relief that I still wore my blue dress.

But how had I ended up in a car with him?

How had I wound up in the same car as Richard Henshaw? Was he the man who had purchased me?

"Please, stop the car. Let me go home, please," I begged him, but the driver ignored me completely. It was as if my words evaporated into thin air.

Am I a ghost? Was I killed?

I touched my legs and pinched myself, wincing at the sharp pain. Richard swiftly seized my hands, pulling them away from my legs.

"What are you doing, trying to hurt yourself, huh?" His voice emerged hot, rough, and alluring.

"No," I whispered, trembling because I had no idea how I had ended up in a car with him.

"Please, let me go home. How come you're the one taking me? Where are we going?" I asked him, barely recognizing the road his driver navigated.

"You belong to me now, princess. And you shouldn't dream of leaving my sight or returning to your parents," he said, and my jaw dropped in disbelief.

"How? Were you the one who purchased me?" I finally asked, trembling as I studied his handsome, dark face.

"What does it look like to you? You were auctioned at the dark realm auction, and I bought you. So you should be the one answering my questions, not the other way around. How did you end up there? The auction house doesn't sell illegal goods. It only means you willingly went there to be sold."

He clasped my hands, which remained tied together.

"No. I didn't want to be sold. I refuse to agree to be sold to anyone, and you do not own me," I challenged him, locking eyes defiantly.

"I see," he muttered and looked away just as the car veered into another sharp turn.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, without bothering to meet my gaze as he pulled out a cigarette, lit the end, and began smoking.

"You're Richard Henshaw. My elder sister's boyfriend," I said, and he smiled faintly.

"Apart from that. Do you know what I do for a living?" he asked, his cold voice making my heart quiver.

"Um, no, I don't know. But Isabella said you're a mafia lord's son, and your father is Wesley Henshaw," I replied, and he nodded.

"Good. Since you know who my father is, then that means you already understand who I am too. I bought you tonight, and I don't care how you ended up putting yourself up for sale, but I must warn you: even your parents can't take you away from me. They know the mafia rules in this Top Hills City, and my family reigns as the number one mafia boss here. So heed my warning, little princess. You are not to leave my house or attempt to escape. I will have you branded on your chest so you bear my name wherever you go," he declared as he smoked his cigarette.

"No. I don't want to be sold. I never wanted anything to do with you. Isabella misunderstood everything. She thought I was trying to steal you from her. Please, let me go home. My sister loves you. Don't brand me. I cannot become your sex slave," I cried, desperately pleading with Richard.

I felt a flicker of relief that he was the one who had bought me, so maybe I could return home, right?

"Don't touch me!" Richard smacked my hands away from his hands, as I reached out in a pleading gesture, glaring at me fiercely.

"Do you want me to take you here in this car? Do you want to experience your first time like this, huh?" He glared, and I recoiled from him, gulping hard.

"No. I don't want it. I don't want you," I mumbled, and he smiled.

"You will. Definitely not now," he said, reaching to touch my hair, but I raised my hands and smacked his away.

The car lurched to a stop, and I peered out the tinted window.

"We've arrived home. Welcome home, my princess," Richard said as he extinguished his cigarette.

"Don't call me that. My name is Angela Moraga. Not a princess," I snapped through clenched teeth, and he smiled.

"I know. And you don't need to correct me. Come out now," he commanded, stepping out of the car first, and dread coursed down my spine.

I remembered my phone was in my handbag, left behind in Isabella's car. How could I reach my parents?

I knew my father's phone number and planned to call him. Though my parents had traveled for a business trip, I wondered how they would react to my absence from home.

Would they search for me? Would they come and rescue me from Richard's clutches?

How dare Richard Henshaw claim me as his property? I couldn't imagine sleeping with the same man my sister had been intimate with.

I wanted nothing to do with Richard Henshaw.

So many young women craved him, but I yearned to advance my education at Top Hills University, studying medicine to become a surgeon.

Tears welled up in my eyes as the driver exited the car and yanked the door open.

Richard had already strode away, and I watched as men in black suits bowed and greeted him as he approached the front of his mansion.

Did he own this magnificent house? I wondered, as the driver urged me, "Come out. And don't think you can run away. Master Richard has been kind to bring you here instead of sending you straight to the harem."

My brows furrowed, puzzled by the man's words.

I recalled I wasn't the only one sold; other young women had been auctioned too, and Richard claimed the auction was legal, meaning they had all agreed to sell themselves.

Was that the truth?

What if they had been kidnapped and sold like me?

I silently trailed the man who led me into the luxurious white mansion.