04 A Shock

Adasha

Morning crept in slowly, the pale light casting long shadows across the room. Randy’s presence loomed heavy, as suffocating as ever.

The buzz of his phone broke the silence, and he answered it sharply, his tone clipped and controlled.

“Jason,” he said, and my stomach dropped. Why was Jason calling him?

Anxiety surged through me, my pulse roaring in my ears as I strained to catch the other side of the conversation.

Randy’s voice grew colder with each word. “I see,” he said, the sharp edge of anger unmistakable. His gaze turned to me, piercing and heavy, pinning me in place.

I felt exposed, every secret laid bare under his suspicion.

“Okay. Thank you,” he said curtly, ending the call.

He set the phone aside and turned his full attention to me. His expression was dark, menacing, and my breath hitched as the silence stretched.

“Did you think Jason would go against me, Adasha?” he asked, his voice low and deadly.

I froze, panic surging. What had Jason told him?

“Throwing yourself at him to get what you want,” Randy sneered, his laughter bitter and mocking. 

“You must think very little of him to offer yourself for the sake of your parents. What are you planning, Adasha? Don’t you know I own the West? Everyone in it answers to me.”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head, my voice trembling. “I didn’t throw myself at him, Randy! You saw it—he came to me. I only danced with him because I thought you were okay with it. And all I did was ask about my parents’ well-being. That’s all.”

It was a lie, but a necessary one. My voice wavered as I tried to steady myself, terrified he’d see through me.

The truth—that I’d sought Jason’s help—was a dangerous confession. And Jason had twisted the narrative to save himself, leaving me to face the consequences.

Randy studied me for a long, suffocating moment, his presence as oppressive as the silence stretching between us.

“Please, Randy,” I whispered, my voice trembling under the weight of my desperation. “I can’t take any more.”

For a fleeting second, his eyes softened, a flicker of something unrecognisable—regret, perhaps? But it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by the seething anger that had become all too familiar.

“You’re lucky I have a meeting this morning,” he muttered, backing away.

Relief washed over me, immediate but hollow. I knew this reprieve was only temporary. 

Last night’s fury wasn’t gone; it was lying in wait, biding its time, ready to consume me again when he returned.

He dressed swiftly, his movements sharp and deliberate, tension radiating off him like smoke from a fire. 

His voice was calm when he mentioned the emergency meeting, but the darkness in his eyes unsettled me.

As he moved toward his safe, I watched him retrieve a stack of documents with his usual air of dominance, slamming the heavy door shut with a resounding finality. 

That safe had always intrigued me, and today, my curiosity burned hotter than ever. I had memorised the combination long ago—a silent act of rebellion, a small victory gifted by my photographic memory.

With Randy gone, I knew this was my chance. Whatever secrets he had locked away might hold the answers I needed—about my parents, about his plans, about anything that could help me escape.

As he gathered his belongings and left, I schooled my expression into careful neutrality, masking the chaos within. 

The torment he inflicted on me wasn’t my fault, yet guilt and fear clung to me like a second skin. But today, I would uncover the truth.

The moment the door clicked shut, I sprang into action. My heart thundered in my chest as I approached the safe, my hands steady despite the storm raging inside me. Each turn of the dial, each satisfying click of the tumblers, felt like a small act of defiance against the control Randy wielded over my life.

The door opened with a soft metallic groan, revealing neat stacks of documents and money. I sifted through them quickly, desperation mounting until I spotted a folder with my name on it.

My breath hitched as I pulled it free.

Why would Randy have a folder about me? What could possibly be inside? 

I braced myself for something horrific, but nothing could have prepared me for the truth.

Inside was a bill of sale, my name scrawled across it like a grim banner. My parents weren’t my biological parents, and they had sold me to Randy as if I were a possession—a piece of furniture to be bartered.

The receipt was there, cold and clinical, a damning record of the transaction that had stolen my life. 

My heart shattered into jagged pieces as the truth sank in. I had been living a lie. The people who raised me, who I thought loved me, had sold me into this nightmare.

Adoption itself wasn’t the wound—it was the betrayal. I had been commodified, handed over to a man who treated me like property.

For six long years, I had endured Randy’s cruelty, clinging to his threats about my parents, holding onto the hope that they cared for me. But they didn’t. 

They had sold me, and the profits of their betrayal likely financed their comfortable lives, far removed from the hell I endured every day.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of grief and rage. Tears poured down my face, and a guttural sob tore from my throat. It was too much to bear.

“This isn’t the time, Adasha,” Willow growled, her voice sharp and grounding. “This has made our load lighter. It’s time to leave—and to hell with those traitors.”

Her anger mirrored my own, igniting a fire deep within me. She was right. There was nothing left for me here. I had nothing to lose now, and no reason to stay.

I scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face and steeling my resolve.

The look in Randy’s eyes before he left had been a warning—a promise that his rage would not be contained for long. I had no time to waste.

I’d attempted escape before, but this time was different. The chains that bound me had shattered. The lies, the manipulation, the threats—none of it mattered anymore. I had no one to protect, no reason to linger.

This was my moment. If I stayed, Randy’s control would eventually turn fatal. I couldn’t afford to gamble with my life any longer.

The time to leave was now. And I wouldn’t look back.