_Astrid’s POV_The air was filled with the smell of sweat, smoke, and fear.I stood barefooted on the cold, marble stage, arms bound in front of me, my wrists raw from the rough rope that tied tyen together. A single spotlight bore down on me, blinding me, as faceless figures in the audience murmured, their voices low and expectant. The auction house reeked of wealth and sin, the kind of place where men bought flesh with the snap of their fingers, where lives were measured in gold and power rather than worth.The auctioneer, a man in an expensive suit, lifted his hand. "Lot 43," he announced, his voice spreading across the big room. "Twenty years old. Untouched. A rare find. We’ll start the bidding at twenty thousand!"A shiver ran down my spine, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them see me break. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat coming as a drum of my impending doom. I wanted to scream, to run, but there was nowhere to go. I was trapped.My father had already pulled me
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-06
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