The car door slammed shut behind her.
The sound echoed like a final verdict.
She flinched.
Her fingers curled tightly against her dress as she tried to calm her racing heart, struggling to catch up with everything that had just happened.
Sold.
The word kept repeating in her head like a curse.
Sold by the only man she trusted.
Her chest tightened painfully, and she turned her face away, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall. She couldn't look at him. Not now. Not after everything.
But she could feel him.
Even without looking.
His presence filled the space—cold, heavy, suffocating.
Damien.
She swallowed hard.
The car started moving.
No one spoke.
The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, until she couldn't take it any longer.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
No answer.
Her fingers trembled.
She turned slightly, forcing herself to look at him.
He sat beside her like he owned the world—calm, composed, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He didn't even acknowledge her.
Her heart pounded louder in her chest, but her body remained frozen. The words he'd said earlier echoed in her mind like a haunting whisper.
Sign the papers. She's yours now.
The betrayal she'd heard in his voice still stung, but the reality of it was worse.
Her fingers gripped the seat as if it could ground her.
No. She couldn't accept this. She wouldn't.
But she felt the weight of his eyes on her. Even when he wasn't looking, she could feel it.
The door was closed, but she felt more trapped than ever before.
She hated him. She hated the way he made her feel so small, so powerless. He didn't even care that she was suffering.
She had trusted him. Loved him like a father.
And now this.
He was handing her over to a stranger. No explanation. No fight. Just a signature, and she was his.
The silence dragged on for what felt like forever. Every second stretched, thick with tension, as the city passed by outside the car window. The streetlights flickered in the growing darkness, casting long shadows across the pavement. She didn't even know where they were going, but it didn't matter. Wherever it was, she was already lost.
The car turned sharply, and her body jerked with the motion. She tried to steady herself, but her eyes were glued to him.
She could barely breathe.
"Damien," she whispered his name, her voice thick with emotion, barely more than a rasp.
No answer.
She clenched her hands into fists, the rage building inside her, but there was nothing she could do. She was completely powerless here.
"What is this? What do you want with me?" she asked, more forcefully this time, but he still didn't respond.
Finally, the silence was broken. But it wasn't what she expected.
"You should be grateful," Damien said coldly, his voice low, like he was speaking to a child.
Grateful?
Her head snapped to him, her eyes wide in disbelief. "Grateful?" she spat. "Grateful for what? For being sold like some object?"
He looked at her for the first time since they'd gotten in the car, his eyes cold and calculating. "You're wrong. You were never an object."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. His words made no sense. "Then what am I?" Her voice trembled, but she wasn't about to back down.
He didn't answer immediately. The car slowed as they reached a gated entrance, and he glanced out the window before looking back at her.
"You'll understand soon enough," he said quietly.
She clenched her jaw, her fists tightening at her sides. She had no idea what he meant, but it didn't matter. Nothing would change the fact that she was a prisoner now.
The car stopped in front of a large, imposing building. It loomed in the dark, its towering structure casting a long shadow across the driveway.
Her heart skipped.
This was where she would be kept. This cold, stone fortress would be her home.
He opened the door before she had a chance to process what was happening. "Get out," Damien ordered, his voice firm.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to react. There was no escape. No place to hide. But still, the fight inside her refused to die.
She got out of the car, her legs unsteady, her heart still racing. She wasn't sure what to expect, but the chill of the night air and the weight of his gaze made her feel like she was walking straight into a trap.
He led her inside without a word, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. The mansion's grand, cold architecture made everything feel distant, like she was stepping into another world—a world she didn't belong in.
They reached a large door at the end of a long hallway, and he stopped in front of it. "This will be your room," Damien said, his voice emotionless.
She didn't look at him. She couldn't. The anger was too much. Her mind was spinning, the world feeling dizzying around her.
The door opened, and she stepped inside.
It was nothing like the cold walls of the mansion. This room was lavish, its gold accents and rich fabric glaringly out of place with her emotions.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to scream. To fight. To run.
But she couldn't move.
Not yet.