I slowly opened my eyes. My head was hurting, maybe because of the very strong scent of chloroform. I made out that I was in the car, my hands were tied on my back, my mouth was also taped shut, and everything was quiet, dark, and blurry. I tried to recall everything and not to panic. Everything came like flashcards in front of my eyes, and I recalled Liam sold me. I ran away, got caught, and ended up here. Funny because there was no one in the back seat with me. I can see two people driving. I put all strength in me to transform but it didn't work. My body was hurting too much; I couldn't understand why. The car took a turn and moonlight flashed, making it a little brighter. I could see a little. That's when I noticed this car's door had silver on it. The flooring of the car was also silver. No wonder why my body hurts this much and I can't transform, yet I can't sit still; I have to do something and escape. I looked outside the car window to make out where am I, but it was a forest. If I could break out of this car, transform, and run, they would never find me again. Now this plan might have worked if I was not in the car with silver on their doors, but I can still try. It's me or death. As I was about to break free my hands, the car stopped. I was frustrated. I looked around; the car was at a very big castle. Typical rich people, in the 21st century, buy people, what sadistic monsters. The car door opened; it was the same two guys who came to take me from my house. I can see in their eyes that they were surprised that I was awake. Behind the straight faces, well, I can't fight them now since my hands, feet, and mouths were all taped; they both held by my arms and dragged me to the house. I tried to protest by trying to yell through the tape as if they would budge. The door to this palace or castle was huge; it had lots of patterns on it, all with gold, and some things written in Greek. I couldn't look at it closely, since these two idiots kept dragging me. I was brought to a place that I assumed was the living room of this castle. It was huge and quite modernized. I thought it would be old-style, but it was modern. There was a large TV, large windows, a big fireplace, and a huge sofa surrounded by that place, all on the left side. On the right side, was what I assumed was a coffee place by a huge window and a hallway that led to the kitchen. In the center was a big open stair like the ones you see in movies. I can see a few maids in the kitchen and a few others on the first floor, cleaning. I bet this guy enslaved them too. I don't know why they made me stand in the middle of the living room. I can see the maids on the first floor bowing to someone; maybe the person who "bought" me is here. I looked to my sides; the men who held me were bowing too. I looked up the stairs to see a very handsome young man walking down. Not going to lie; I thought it would be an old guy.
"Untie her," he said, glancing briefly in my direction before settling onto the sofa. A maid emerged from the kitchen with a cup, presumably filled with tea, which she presented to the man. Engrossed in a magazine, he began to read as the guards roughly removed the tape from my hands and mouth, prompting a hiss of discomfort. They proceeded to untie my legs without incident. With a defiant glare at the man on the sofa, I boldly approached him, noting the absence of any attempt to hinder my movement. Seizing the magazine from his grasp, I held his gaze as I settled onto the opposite end of the sofa, snatching his tea from the table. Upon confirming its contents—chamomile tea—I downed it in one gulp, much to his evident surprise and annoyance. Locking eyes with him, I spoke firmly.
"I don't know who the fuck you think you are, or what deal you've struck with my brother, or what the fuck you want from me, but let me make one thing clear: you can't own me, not now, not ever." He laughed, displaying a staggering audacity.
"What's so amusing?" I asked, my tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and defiance.
"You are amusing. Well, here's the thing: your brother sold you to me," he said.
"My brother doesn't own me, so he can't sell me. He has no right." I protested
"But this contract says otherwise," he said, handing me a piece of paper that the other maid had given him. I read the document; it was the one Liam had presented to me, supposedly for a school trip. Damn it, I should have read it thoroughly. It stated that I would willingly place myself under Liam's authority, without objection or dissent, permitting him to do as he pleased with me, even to the extent of selling or killing me. And there, at the bottom, was my signature. I mentally berated myself; I couldn't even argue that Liam had falsified documents because I lacked evidence. Glancing at the man, I noticed his smirk, infuriatingly satisfied with his leverage.
"Listen up, no matter what you do to me, I'll never be owned by you," I asserted firmly. He responded with a menacing laugh and said,
"Oh, honey, you think you have a chance? Your brother sold you to me for 1 million dollars." I didn't even let him finish. I jumped on him and punched him in the face and stomach. Before he could react, I threw at least 5–6 punches at him, but it didn't affect him that much. I don't know why. A normal human being would be unconscious by now. The guards pulled me away from him. I could see blood in his mouth because of the punches, yet he didn't stop smirking. He wiped the blood on his lips and looked at me. All the other maids were shocked at how much I punched him. he spoke with a mischievous grin,
"Have a lot of fights in you? Take her upstairs," the man commanded. The guards, still firmly grasping my hands, nodded and proceeded to lead me towards the stairs. Despite my efforts, I managed to break free from their hold momentarily and lunged towards the man, landing another punch. But before I could strike again, he tightened his grip on my hands, displaying an unexpected level of strength. With ease, he lifted me upside down onto his shoulders, revealing his underlying muscularity beneath the baggy clothes. Despite my protests, I found myself unable to break free. He chastised the guards, labeling them as useless, and began to ascend the stairs. Refusing to give up, I continued to struggle against him, but it was akin to grappling with a solid mass. Upon reaching a bedroom, he unceremoniously dropped me onto the bed. Before I could gather myself to attempt an escape, he swiftly handcuffed my hands to either side of the bed frame...