Chapter 3

ZARIA

The lady of the house ran into the hallway, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floors as she yelled for the guards. “She’s gone! Zaria escaped!”

Chaos burst through the compound like a firecracker. Doors slammed, voices rose, and boots pounded on the ground. Every man under the Don’s command jumped into motion, and it was only a matter of seconds before they spread across the property like hounds on a scent.

The Don appeared, draped in his usual silk robe, his face calm but eyes like ice. He moved to the lady and said in a tone that demanded no excuses, “The white girl. She ran?”

She nodded, straightening her shoulders. “She’s a stubborn one,” she replied. “But don’t worry, we’ll get her back. She’s too valuable to lose. A key player and a payment.”

From a distance, she looked like a traitor. Cold and selfish, someone who had only offered Zaria a false sense of hope and maybe that was true. But only Zaria knew the truth.

I ran like the devil himself was chasing me. The streets were dark, the shadows were my only protection. The men behind me yelled, their feet pounding in unison. My lungs screamed, and my legs ached, but I didn’t stop, I couldn’t, not right now, not ever, I had to make it out. I darted into an alley, stumbled over broken glass, then ducked behind a dumpster. My breath came out in ragged bursts.

And then there was silence. The footsteps faded and I was alone.

I held a hand to my chest, my heart racing, and let the tears burn behind my eyes. That’s when the memory rushed back like a wave……

"Where do you think you’re going, princess?"

I froze.

It was her.

The lady of the house, standing in the hallway with a shade of sadness in her eyes. She had caught me just before I reached the back exit, her voice sharp but her expression conflicted.

“I thought you were going to scare me to death,” I whispered.

She sighed and stepped forward. “I had to make it believable. What are you doing, Zaria? Do you realize what they would have done if anyone else had caught you?”

“Please,” I begged, my hands clasped. “Please help me get out. I can’t stay here. I… I won’t survive this.”

She studied me for a long time, then finally nodded. “Follow me and don’t say a word.”

She led me down a narrow corridor I didn’t even know existed. The walls were damp, the air smelled like mildew and at the very end, she opened a hatch that led into darkness.

“This tunnel leads out. Keep going straight. Don’t stop until you see light,” she said.

I turned to her, with eyes wide in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Once you’re far enough, I’ll alert the guards. They can’t know I helped you. It’ll cost me my life,” she whispered.

I nodded. My voice caught in my throat, there was no time for goodbyes.

Now, crouched in the shadows of the city, I pressed a hand to my chest.

Thank you, I said in my heart.

“God, please protect her. I swear I’ll come back. For her…for all of them”.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

DARIAN

The air smelled like perfume, smoke, and money. Gold chandeliers dripped from the ceiling of the private auction hall. Men with too many rings and not enough morals leaned back in velvet chairs while women in chains were paraded like luxury goods. I hated this place. But I was here, wearing a suit worth more than some of these girls' lives, sipping aged whiskey I had no taste for.

I wasn’t here for the women. I wasn’t here for the spectacle. I was here to be seen. To remind them I was still part of the game, even if I didn’t play by their rules.

The auctioneer’s voice echoed through the room.

“Next on the line, freshly acquired. A special one.”

I didn’t bother looking. My phone buzzed, and I checked the message.

“Gentlemen,” he cooed, “feast your eyes. A rare piece, never before seen on any platform. White, young and untouched…”

I didn’t look up.

“…with the body of a Latina.”

That made my eyes twitch.

“Fiery blood, sultry curves and strong-willed, she's one of a kind.”

Still, I scrolled through my phone, uninterested.

Then I heard it.

“Courtesy of my mother, asshole,” came a sharp, biting voice.

My head snapped up.

Zaria.

There she was, center stage. A silk slip barely covering the bruises on her wrists, her shoulders were trembling, but her chin? High and defiant. Her eyes, despite the fear, still held that stubborn flame.

Before anyone could move, she jerked her knee into the auctioneer’s groin. Hard.

He doubled over with a wheeze.

She spat on him, full force. “¡Maldito cerdo bastardo! ¡Ojalá te pudras en el infierno!”

[Damn pig bastard! I hope you rot in hell!]

Gasps and chuckles rippled through the crowd.

The auctioneer groaned, clutching his groin. “And feisty too,” he wheezed.

My heart slammed into my ribs… No…It couldn’t be.

But it was.

The girl I thought I’d never see again.

Zaria Mendez.

Her name echoed inside me like a curse and a promise.

Then the bidding began.

“Starting at twenty thousand,” the auctioneer croaked, still trying to recover.

“Twenty-five!” barked one of the fat old bastards in the front row.

“Thirty!” shouted another.

I stood slowly and calmly and raised my paddle.

“Fifty.”

Silence.

All heads turned.

The auctioneer blinked. “Ah… fifty thousand from Mr. Wolfe.”

A murmur crawled across the room.

“Sixty!” someone challenged, lifting their chin in smug arrogance.

“Eighty.” My voice cut like steel.

“Ninety!”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Two hundred thousand.”

The crowd stilled.

Someone laughed nervously. The auctioneer sputtered. “Well that’s… quite the number…”

“No refunds,” I said flatly. “Right?”

His lips twitched. “Sold… to Mr. Wolfe.”

The room erupted in whispers, but I didn’t care.

This wasn’t about power or appearances.

This was personal.

When they brought her to the private suite I’d reserved, two guards nudged her inside like a purchase being delivered. Her steps were hesitant, her eyes scanning everything, until they landed on me.

I stood by the window, the city glowing behind me, sipping whiskey I’d forgotten the taste of.

Our eyes locked and recognition sparked.

I smiled, slow and devilish.

“Long time no see, Miss Mendez.”