Trafficked Book Novels & Stories

Welcome to unedited Black book 3 of the Woods series. This book can be read independently. You can read it without adventuring into 'Married to a stripper'. I'll be extremely happy if those who haven't checked that book out do so. I hope you enjoy my works. Love you guys much much. Your humble author Zagzahzlau. ~••~ The Sunday night was frigid against unarmed skin in Buea--the city of legendary hospitality-- located in the southwest region of Cameroon.

But I just want this to end. I can’t sleep. I can hear some of the girls crying while others chat between themselves. We are locked in a room where the only thing that has is mattresses. It’s cold and dark. I feel a chill down my spine as I close my eyes again. I hope tomorrow I get sold to the kindest men of them all. I don’t want to be a sexual slave to anyone. I don’t want anyone touching me, but this is human trafficking. It will happen whether I like it or not.

*********************************************** Disclaimer. This book belongs to the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical and photocopying. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. The book has matured theme and some parts might have non-consensual scenes. Read at your own risk.

She was also hidden in my backpack when I applied for the job in the local library, I always had a weak spot for the books and stories, when they took me I couldn’t be happier. My job was easy and simple, just help people buying their stories, cash them out, put the books back in place and finally I can read as much as I want. It was the best kind of job for me, I loved it and I got paid weekly, enough to eat, after my first paycheck, I had spent a full week starving,

"Let me walk you upstairs, Ms. Grant," someone said. I turned to see a man in a suit. His lapels were open wide enough for me to vaguely see his collarbones. I could also see that he didn't have anything else on underneath. Hmph. Trying this again, huh? I turned him down and sashayed upstairs to my room. My name was Sasha Grant. I was the second-in-command at a live stream company. Whenever I went on business trips, people would use various excuses to curry favor with me—they wanted the resources I had in hand.

Some even sent packages filled with animal carcasses. When I opened one, a scream escaped me, and I tossed it aside in horror. Out of nowhere, Will's mocking laughter drifted behind me. His voice came like a whisper from the darkest corners of hell. "You're frightened, aren't you? Do you really think it's wise to keep causing trouble?" Goosebumps prickled along my skin. Standing inches behind me, he murmured into my ear, his words sending a shiver down my spine. "If you keep causing a scene, I can't promise what those netizens might do to you next time."

Some leaned in, riveted at the information. I looked at the camera nearest to me. “A brothel that has trafficked women across six countries, because Emily and Robert Godfrey didn't want me to be heard from again.” I pulled out my phone and held up the screen. “This is a transaction showing a transfer of$25 million to Emily’s personal account, by Simon Schuster. Dig a little deeper, and you’ll find he’s got shell companies connected to at least three known trafficking rings. I’ll forward you all the statements if you want.”

In the darkness of my hotel room, and before I could even make out the person's silhouette or scream, a sack was thrown over my head, covering my face. My arms were pinned to my sides, and I was lifted and carried out.

Eleven said. "What's your name?" the man said. “Eleven" “Okay, listen to me El, I have a family, I love my wife and my son. Yes my son is about the same age as you. I have no interest in touching you because you are just a young girl, my wife is prettier than you and that is more than enough for me. But, your father owes me a debt, a very high debt, I think with him not working like now, he won't be able to pay it off. When my men said he wanted to sell you, to be honest I wasn't interested, I'm a bookie, I don't play human trafficking, that's not my type. But one of my men, the man who brought you here, he said if your father abused you, he saw it himself because it shows on your body and y

ay and the trafficking network.It helped that the files were devastating. Names, routes, financial records, communication intercepts everything Dominic had spent fourteen years assembling, offered up on a silver platter to a federal prosecution that was suddenly looking at the biggest trafficking case in a decade.Dominic walked out of the precinct at 7 AM. Sophia was waiting on the steps. He looked like a man who’d been awake for thirty hours which he had and the stubble on his jaw made his scar look rougher, more honest, like a wound that had stopped pretending to be healed.She didn’t hug him. Things between them were not hugging things right now. The parking garage confession sat between t