1: AMAYA’S POV

I should have screamed the moment I realized what was happening.

I should have, but I didn’t….. I couldn’t. To be honest, there was very little that I could do in this moment.

My father’s words still echoed in my mind, a mantra I hated:

“It’s for the family. It’s for your own good as well, Amaya”

I didn’t believe him. I was being traded off like livestock and he had the nerve to claim it was for my own good?

How could any of this be for my own good?

How could a father do this to his only child?

The only daughter that his wife who he claimed he loved, left behind? Was I not meant to be protected by all means?

The black car hummed through the city, tires slicing against wet asphalt, the rain streaking the windows in jagged lines.

My fingers were pressed to my knees, digging into the fabric of my dress until the skin split. My heart pounded like it was trying to escape my chest.

I had been sold. Not betrothed, not promised, like a proper daughter.

No. I was sold. And the man…..the one who had bought me was waiting for me at the compound.

I doubt he even remembered my name.

“Amaya,” my father had said as if saying my name was an attempt at gentleness, “you must obey your husband. You are stepping into a life bigger than yourself. Do well not to bring shame to me”

I bit back a sob.

“You… sold me,” I whispered.

His eyes didn’t meet mine. He didn’t even flinch.

“This is real life, You are no longer a child. But don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll survive.”

I didn’t know what to say.

How would I possibly survive this?

The gates of the compound appeared in the distance, tall, iron, looming like the entrance to a prison.

Guards flanked it, black-suited and silent.

I was led inside without ceremony after my father had

left me and was driven back to what used to be my home.

My heels click clacked against the marble floor and yet every step felt like I was sinking into quick sand and would soon drown.

That was when I saw him, I froze.

He was standing at the center of the grand hall, tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a suit that looked like it had been tailored for a king.

His eyes were black ice, assessing me, scanning me as if trying to measure my value.

“You must be Amaya,” he said, voice smooth, low, dangerous.

I nodded. Words failed me.

“Your father did not teach you to speak?,” he continued, stepping closer. Each movement deliberate, slow, like a predator circling its prey. “Very well. I like a woman who knows to hold her tongue”

I swallowed, trying to appear calm. My hands trembled at my sides.

“Yes….husband,” I said, though the words were barely audible.

He stopped just short of touching me, his presence suffocating.

“Do you know my name, girl?” He asked.

“My father says your name is Raul”

“Good. Did he also mention I prefer obedience from my women?”

Women? Were they more like me?

“Yes”

“You will learn obedience under my roof and you will learn quickly. Resistance only leads to you being punished.”

I flinched. The words weren’t a threat; they were a promise.

What did he mean by punished?

Would he beat me?

A servant stepped forward and motioned for me to follow. I did, though my legs felt weak.

My husband….no, my owner did not look away. He watched me like I was a puzzle he intended to solve, piece by piece.

The room assigned to me was smaller than I expected but elegant.

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, hands gripping the fabric of my dress. I was alone. Alone, and trapped, and trembling.

My mind raced. How had my life led to this? How had my father traded me to this man like I was nothing?

The moments dragged on. I couldn’t bring myself to cry, but my chest ached anyway, as if it were mourning a freedom I had never fully understood until now.

Then I heard the click and my new husband entered the room.

No knock. No warning. Just the faint scent of leather, danger, and dominance. I shrank back instinctively.

“You look smaller than I imagined you know,” he said, circling slowly. “Perfectly fragile. Easily broken. I like that about you.”

I was paralyzed, trapped in the cage of fear he had created with a single glance.

“You will come to understand your place here,” he said finally, stopping in front of me. “And when you learn that… you will survive.”

I nodded, because nodding was easier than refusing. Easier than arguing and a lot easier than getting punished.

“I understand”

I bit my lip to stop a whimper. My body was screaming, every nerve alive with fear.

But I had no choice. None.

He stepped back then, motioning subtly to the servants.

“She will stay here tonight. Prepare her room. Make sure she is comfortable.“

The servants obeyed, and I realized, with a hollow sinking in my chest, that I was done for.

My father was gone.

My freedom was gone. I belonged to someone else now, someone who could decide every moment of my life.

I sank to the floor beside the bed as soon as my husband and his servants left.

I tried to steady my breathing, but the reality of it all—the sale, the cage, the man who I had just been sold to, pressed down until I could barely move.

I closed my eyes, praying silently.

But not for escape, because I knew escape wasn’t possible. I just needed strength.

Because even though I had no idea what darkness awaited me, I knew it would rip me apart.