Scene 4

ANGELA

As we stepped into the living room, I stopped and asked the muscular man, “Hello, excuse me. Who owns this house?”

“Mr. Richard,” he replied tensely.

As I looked around the living room, where Richard strode toward the stairs, I saw him glaring at the driver with bloodshot eyes.

“Get out, Derek!” Richard barked, and the driver quickly ran out.

I gritted my teeth, wondering how I had ended up with my sister’s boyfriend.

“Master Richard, please, let me go home,” I told him, trying to negotiate with him.

I knew it was futile to negotiate with this ruthless man, and I blamed myself for accompanying Isabella to his birthday party.

“Don’t call me that,” Richard grunted, glaring at me.

“Huh, what do I call you, then? My sister’s boyfriend?” I asked him, and his eyes narrowed.

Richard came downstairs and strode toward me.

The next moment, he stood in front of me with his firm hands clasped around my neck.

“You are so stubborn, unlike the calm kitten I saw at my birthday party. What happened to you? Do you want to be punished?” Richard asked, his voice hot and rough as he caressed my face. He was taller than me, and I gulped down my anxiety.

His masculine scent of pine invaded my nostrils and disrupted my thoughts, preventing me from giving him a direct answer.

“No. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Please, let me go home,” I begged him.

“Hmm,” Richard breathed out hotly. His gaze sharp like a hawk.

“What will you do to make me let go of you? Do you think it’s a lie that you belong to me? Take a look at the receipt.” Richard pulled out a receipt and showed it to me.

“Product name: ANGELA MORAGA. Sold: Fifty million dollars,” was boldly written on the receipt, which the Dark Realm auction house and Richard had signed.

“But I never agreed to be sold,” I told him, tears welling up in my blue eyes.

“Please, I have a dream of becoming a doctor. Please, I don’t want to become your sex slave. Please…” I cried, collapsing at his feet as I held on to his legs.

“Please, let me go. I will do anything you want me to do. Please, just let me go home. I don’t want any of this,” I begged him.

Richard squatted and reached for my hands. He held them and pulled me back to my feet.

“You’re not so dumb, are you? You are going back home. You belong to me, and I want you,” he said, his eyes glowing with desire and interest.

“But I don’t want you. You cannot rape me. You will go to jail if you force yourself on me!” I warned him, challenging him with a deadly stare.

Richard laughed, looking breathtakingly handsome.

“Who said that I will force myself on you? I do not force myself on women. They offer themselves to me, and I take pleasure in taunting them. You never asked your sister about me. She will tell you that I have never touched her pússy or even seen the color of her lingerie,” Richard said, as he moved away from me and strode toward his bar. His phone rang, and he fished it out and glanced at the caller.

“Hello, Derek. What is it?” Richard inquired, his cold voice making my heart skip a beat.

*If he didn’t want sex, then why had he purchased me?*

“Let her in,” Richard ordered coldly.

I looked toward the living room door as it burst open.

A young woman wearing a black coat, black leather trousers, and boots entered the living room. She carried a black schoolbag strapped across her shoulders.

“Good evening, Master Richard,” she greeted him with a bow of her head.

“Welcome, Agnes. Wait a minute in the dressing room. I will send her to you now.” Richard dismissed the woman as Derek came in next.

“Where is the dressing room?” the young woman asked, and Derek chimed in.

“Follow me.” Derek led the young woman away, and I saw her eyes glow with interest as she looked at him.

“All right.” She glanced away from me, smiling as she followed Derek.

“Please, Master, let me go,” I said, recalling that Richard had warned me not to call him by his name. He hadn’t told me what to call him.

Richard remained silent as he picked up a bottle of wine from his bar.

“Care to have a drink? It’s nonalcoholic,” he asked with a smile.

I shook my head and replied, “No. I want to go home.”

Richard smiled, took a sip, and looked at me.

“You are not going home. I will inform your parents about it. As for your schooling, you will resume going to Top Hills University since you want to further your education. But I must warn you, Princess: you are not allowed to have a boyfriend or get close to any man. If you dare to break the rule, you will be severely punished,” Richard said as he drank from his cup.

“Really? Thank you.” I smiled, relieved.

“That’s not all. Don’t get too excited. The tattoo artist is here. Once she brands you with my name, just as I want it, at the top of your chest and close to your heart, you will always remember whom you belong to. Then you will sign the contract and agree to abide by my rules. Do you understand?” Richard said, and I frowned because I didn’t want his brand.

Richard finished his drink and marched toward me. I stood there, hesitating to agree to his request. He grasped my long hair and tilted my face up to look at him.

“Did you hear everything I said?” Richard demanded angrily.

I pressed my pink lips together, unwilling to reply.

Richard’s gaze shifted from my eyes to my lips. He caressed them, touching them with his black-gloved hands.

I smacked his hands away from my lips, but he held me firmly and lifted me off the ground, carrying me in his strong arms.

“Put me down!” I screamed, but my words fell on deaf ears as Richard marched away.

He arrived at a room, and a maid I hadn’t seen earlier unlocked the door for him.

The young woman from earlier sat in a chair in the room. She swiftly rose and looked at us. A full-length mirror stood in the room.

“Agnes, brand her chest with my full name. I want every man who looks at her to know that she belongs to me,” Richard said as he placed me in the chair.

“No! I don’t want your brand. Please…” I tried to beg him, but he pulled out his short gun and pointed it at my head.

“Sit properly and let her do the job. Then we’ll move on to the next step,” he ordered coldly.

I knew Richard was crazy. I hadn’t expected him to have a gun.

Seeing the cold metal pointed at my head, I dared not push his buttons, and I gulped hard.

“Stay still, pretty. I will tattoo Master Richard’s name properly on your chest,” Agnes, who was a tattoo artist, said to me in a soft voice.

I couldn’t speak with Richard standing there and watching us. He withdrew his gun once he saw me seated calmly.

“Agnes, let me know once you are finished, and make sure you tattoo the name boldly. I want it written in a bold italic font. Make it lovely and dark, like me.” Richard smiled and left the room.

I frowned.

“All right, Master Richard,” Agnes replied, but he had already exited the room.