Elena Garcia is an eighteen-year-old girl who learned long ago that silence can hurt less than shouting.
She lives in Chicago with her mother, Marisa, her father, Jacob, and her two older twin siblings, Aiden and Addison.
She is the unwanted child—the one who has always tried to be seen, only to be met with cold indifference that cuts deeper every single time.
While her siblings were given love, attention, and memories worth keeping… Elena was left with whatever scraps remained.
And today—on her birthday—
She was sold.
Sold to a man who ruled the underworld. A man who took lives as easily as breathing.
What she didn't know…
Was that this was exactly what he had always wanted.
To have her.
To keep her close.
To never let her go.
It all started the day he saw her outside Maxton Café—her long brown hair tied into a loose ponytail, her curves outlined in simple gray leggings and a gym bra, a large cup of coffee in her hand.
He could have stood there all day just watching her.
But instead—
He decided he would make her his.
No matter what it took.
(Elena's POV)
I walked along the sidewalk, lost in thought.
The truth still felt unreal.
The boy I thought I loved… had only been using me.
Tears streamed down my face as everything replayed in my head—every word, every moment, every lie.
The way he came after me so relentlessly.
The day we met, it was raining.
Not heavily—but cold enough to bite into your skin.
I was drenched from head to toe, my thin white dress clinging to me, outlining every curve, my hair sticking messily to my face.
When Clayton saw me…
He froze.
His eyes darkened, locked onto me like he had already decided something.
Like I already belonged to him.
I ignored it.
At the time, I thought nothing of it.
I spotted my friend Jared nearby and waved. The moment he saw me soaked and shivering, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders without hesitation.
"Come on," he said, wrapping an arm around me.
"The dorm is closer."
We ended up in the boys' dorm.
Luckily, Jared was Clayton's roommate—but they had separate rooms.
Jared and I had been close since our first day of college. He was easy to talk to… safe.
That night, we stayed in his room, wrapped in blankets, watching movies while I tried to warm up.
At some point, exhaustion took over.
We fell asleep.
The next thing I remember—
A loud bang.
The door slammed open.
We both jolted awake.
And there he was.
Clayton.
Standing in the doorway.
His eyes burned with something dark… something unstable.
His fists clenched at his sides.
His face twisted into something I didn't recognize.
"Jared. Outside," he said tightly.
They stepped out, and moments later—
Shouting.
Loud. Aggressive.
I couldn't make out the words.
I assumed maybe I had broken some dorm rule.
When Jared came back, something had changed.
His expression was darker. Colder.
Like something had been said that actually got to him—and that wasn't easy.
"What happened?" I asked.
He just shrugged.
"It's nothing."
And somehow…
I let it go.
After that night—
Clayton was everywhere.
The library.
The cafeteria.
The lab.
My classes.
Even the small coffee shop two blocks from campus.
Everywhere I went—
He was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Four weeks later, he finally said it.
"I like you."
I didn't respond.
Not immediately.
Five minutes passed—and I saw the shift.
Annoyance.
Impatience.
Something darker creeping in.
"So?" he asked again, his voice tight.
"Give me time," I said.
His smile came out… wrong.
Too tight.
"Sure," he said, handing me his number before walking off.
For a few days, he disappeared.
And I thought—
Maybe that was it.
I was wrong.
He came back worse.
Closer.
More invasive.
I hated the way he showed up everywhere like he had a right to be there.
Like he had a right to me.
One day, I'd had enough.
"Why the hell are you following me?" I snapped.
He just smiled.
That stupid, confident smile.
Clayton was the kind of guy girls obsessed over.
Good looks.
Money.
Charm.
And that irritating arrogance that made me want to slap him.
"I asked you to be my girlfriend," he said casually. "You haven't answered. I just didn't want you to forget me."
I smiled sweetly.
Fake.
"Well, I've decided I'm not interested. So if you could kindly stop stalking me, that would be great."
Something in his expression shifted.
And instantly—
I knew.
This wasn't over.
"Oh," he said slowly. "That's funny."
Before I could react—
His hand wrapped around my wrist.
Hard.
"I don't remember asking anymore," he continued, his voice dropping. "I'm telling you. You don't get to reject me."
Pain shot through my arm.
"Let go of me."
"Say you understand," he said, tightening his grip, "and you won't have to see this side of me again."
I stared straight into his green eyes.
Cold.
Unimpressed.
"I don't care about this ugly side of you," I said. "But if you hurt me, I promise you—I'll hurt you back."
His grip didn't loosen.
So I acted.
I slammed my foot down hard on his.
He cursed, releasing me instantly.
And I ran.
Fast.
Behind me, I heard him shout—
"You will be mine whether you like it or not!"
I didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
"Go to hell!" I yelled over my shoulder.