CHAPTER 1: The Price of a Bride

The plastic stick was warm in my palm. Two pink lines.

I blinked, waiting for the image to change, but the lines only grew darker. I was pregnant.

A shaky breath rattled in my chest as I stared at myself in the vanity mirror. I was wearing a wedding dress that cost more than my father’s car, my hair was pinned up in perfect pearl curls, and my makeup was flawless. I looked like a princess, but I felt like a fraud.

"Vivian? Are you coming?"

My stepsister Chloe’s voice drifted through the heavy oak door.

"Just a second!" I called back, my voice trembling.

I shoved the pregnancy test deep into the hidden pocket of my gown. I touched my stomach instinctively. I was about to marry Caleb. We had been together for three years. He was the golden boy of the city, and I was just the orphan his family had graciously taken in.

This changes everything, I thought, a small, hopeful smile touching my lips. We are finally going to be a real family.

I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. It was quiet. Too quiet.

The ceremony was starting in fifteen minutes. Caleb should be at the altar. But as I walked past the groom's private study, I heard a sound that made my blood run cold.

A low moan.

And then a voice. Her voice.

"Oh god, Caleb... right there."

My feet stopped moving. My brain screamed at me to turn around, to run, to pretend I didn’t hear it. But my hand was already reaching for the brass handle.

I pushed the door open.

The scene before me was violent, ugly, and impossible to look away from.

Caleb was pinned against his mahogany desk, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge. And Chloe—my stepsister, my maid of honor—was on her knees in front of him. Her bridesmaids dress was pooled around her waist.

"Caleb?" I whispered.

The sound was barely a breath, but it hit the room like a gunshot.

They froze. Caleb looked up, his eyes blown wide. Chloe pulled away slowly, wiping her mouth. She didn't look ashamed. She looked annoyed.

"Vivian," Caleb said, his voice flat. He zipped his pants, not even bothering to look away from me. "You shouldn't be in here."

"I shouldn't be in here?" I choked out, the room spinning. "We are getting married in ten minutes. And you are here with her?"

Chloe stood up, smoothing her dress. She smirked. "Oh, honey. Did you really think he wanted you? You are just the placeholder."

"What?" I stepped back, my heel catching on the tulle of my dress.

"The trust fund, Viv," Caleb said, checking his watch as if he were bored. "Your grandfather's will says you get access to the millions when you marry. I need that cash to cover some bad investments. Once the money hits my account, we were going to file for annulment anyway."

He walked toward me. The man I loved. The father of the baby growing inside me. He looked at me with pure disgust.

"You are boring, Vivian. You are a prude. Chloe knows how to please a man."

The pregnancy test in my pocket felt heavy. I couldn't tell him. Not now. Not ever. He would use the baby as leverage.

"I am not marrying you," I said, my voice rising to a scream. I ripped the three carat diamond from my finger and threw it at him. "The wedding is off! I am keeping the money, and I am telling everyone what a monster you are!"

Caleb’s face changed. The boredom vanished, replaced by a dark, terrifying rage.

He lunged at me.

"No!" I screamed, turning to run.

He caught my wrist, twisting it painfully behind my back. He shoved me hard. I stumbled, my feet tangling in the heavy fabric of the gown.

My head hit the corner of the doorframe with a sickening crack.

Pain exploded behind my eyes. The world tilted sideways, gray fuzz eating at my vision. I slumped to the floor, gasping for air. I tasted blood.

"You idiot," Chloe hissed, looking down at me. "She’s bleeding."

"She was going to ruin everything," Caleb snarled, pacing the room. He ran a hand through his hair. "I owe sharks two million by midnight. If I don't pay, I am a dead man."

He looked down at me. I tried to move, but my limbs felt like lead.

"Caleb..." I whimpered.

He stared at me, and a cold, calculating look entered his eyes. He pulled out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Chloe asked.

"The Collector," Caleb said. "Mr. Thorne."

Chloe gasped. "Julian Thorne? The Devil of the East Side? You can't involve him."

"I don't have a choice," Caleb said, the phone ringing against his ear. "I don't have the money. But I have something else."

He looked at me, lying broken in my wedding dress, vulnerable and weak.

"Hello, Mr. Thorne?" Caleb’s voice shook slightly. "I can't pay the debt today... No, please, listen! I have a trade."

He paused, listening to the terrifying voice on the other end. Then he smiled, a cruel, jagged thing.

"A bride. Unused. Beautiful. And desperate... Yes. She is yours. Consider the debt paid."

He hung up.

The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was Caleb’s shoe inches from my face, and the realization that my life was no longer my own.

I had been sold.