"Damian Carter!"
The name tore from my father's throat sharp, strangled, soaked in fear.
The next second, everything moved too fast.
Damian's arm shot out, locking around my father's neck with terrifying precision. It wasn't messy. It wasn't rushed. It was controlled. Intentional.
My father thrashed violently, clawing at the arm constricting his throat, his face turning red almost instantly. But Damian didn't even flinch.
His grip tightened.
Slowly.
Effortlessly.
Like he was adjusting a cufflink.
Air wheezed from my father's mouth in broken, desperate gasps.
"L-let… go…"
"Let him go!" my sister shrieked.
Her voice sliced through the room, high and frantic.
I turned toward her.
Panic was written all over her face. Tears pooled in her wide eyes as she rushed forward instinctively as if she might actually throw herself between them.
She was terrified.
Terrified for him.
The realization hit me harder than any slap ever had.
When had she ever screamed like that for me?
When had she ever cried when I was bleeding on the floor?
Never.
Damian tilted his head slightly, acknowledging her presence without loosening his chokehold.
Amusement curled at the corner of his mouth.
"And if I don't?" he asked smoothly.
His voice was low. Calm. Mocking.
"What exactly will you do, little girl? Make me?"
My sister froze.
Her lips trembled.
No words came.
My father's struggles grew weaker.
"N-no… no…" he rasped. "Please… leave her out of this! She's just a spoiled little girl. Please!"
The words pierced through me.
He would beg for her.
He would humiliate himself for her.
Protect her.
But not me.
Never me.
Something ugly twisted inside my chest. It wasn't just jealousy. It was something darker.
A lifetime of being second.
A lifetime of being expendable.
Damian's laugh was soft, dangerous.
"Ah," he murmured. "I see. The favorite one. The one you spoiled with my money."
His eyes glittered coldly.
"What poor taste you have."
"I'll pay you back!" my father wheezed desperately. "I swear it, Damian! Just don't hurt my daughter. She's innocent!"
Innocent.
The word echoed in my head like a cruel joke.
Was I not?
Was I ruined? Damaged? Worthless?
Damian's gaze shifted.
And landed on me.
Sharp.
Assessing.
Unsettling.
"Daughter?" he repeated mildly. "What about that one?"
His finger pointed directly at me.
My breath hitched.
My heart stopped.
And then my father spoke.
Words that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
"You can take that one," he said.
Casual.
Detached.
"I don't care. Take her in exchange for your money. She's nineteen. Untouched. She'll fetch you a good deal. Just… spare me."
The world tilted.
My ears rang.
For a second, I thought I had misheard.
But no.
His face was steady.
Cold.
Serious.
He was selling me.
His own daughter.
A sob tore from my chest as my knees gave out beneath me. I hit the floor hard, but I barely felt it.
I stared at him.
Searching.
Begging silently for hesitation. Regret. Something.
Anything.
There was nothing.
No guilt.
No shame.
Just calculation.
Damian's smirk deepened.
"I'll take her."
The words sealed my fate.
The front door opened again and two massive men entered. They moved with military precision, silent, efficient.
Before I could react, one of them grabbed me.
I was lifted off the ground and thrown over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.
"No!" I screamed.
I kicked. I clawed. I pounded my fists against his back.
"Daddy! Please! Don't let them take me! Please!"
My voice cracked. Broke. Shattered.
But he didn't move.
Didn't fight.
Didn't even look at me.
Instead…
He extended his hand.
And shook Damian Carter's hand.
Like men closing a business deal.
The sight destroyed something inside me.
Through tear-blurred vision, I turned to my sister.
And I saw it.
That smirk.
Small.
Cruel.
Satisfied.
As if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.
The fight drained out of me.
My body went limp.
My screams faded into hollow sobs.
The night air hit my skin as they carried me outside.
The car door slammed shut.
And just like that…
I no longer belonged to myself.
The ride was silent.
The leather seat beneath me was cold and expensive. I pressed myself into the corner, trembling violently.
Outside, the world blurred past through tinted windows.
Inside, everything felt suffocating.
All I could see was my father's face.
All I could hear was my sister's laugh.
"Enough tears."
The voice cut through the silence.
Deep.
Commanding.
I flinched and looked up.
Damian Carter sat across from me, legs crossed casually, one arm resting along the seat like this was an ordinary evening for him.
His gaze was sharp.
Unyielding.
"You should be grateful," he said coldly. "I pulled you out of that hellhole."
Grateful?
My stomach twisted.
"So here's how this works," he continued. "You obey. Or you suffer."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"Do you understand?"
I nodded quickly, my throat too tight to speak.
My hands trembled in my lap.
Tears slipped down my cheeks silently now.
He studied me for a long moment.
"Good," he said finally. "Keep it that way."
I turned toward the window.
But inside me, something shifted.
The broken girl who had begged her father?
She was dying.
In her place, something colder was forming.
Hatred.
For my father.
For my sister.
For the man sitting in front of me.
Eventually exhaustion dragged me under.
I woke to a rough jerk on my arm.
"Out."
The door was open.
Cool air rushed in.
I stumbled as one of his men pulled me from the car. My knees buckled, but I caught myself before hitting the ground.
Then I looked up.
And my breath left me.
The mansion loomed before me like something out of a dream.
Or a nightmare.
White marble walls stretched impossibly high. Massive glass windows reflected the fading sunset. Fountains glittered under golden lights. The driveway alone was bigger than our entire house.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
Inside, it was worse.
Marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers. A grand staircase curved elegantly toward the upper level. Expensive artwork lined the walls.
Everything screamed wealth.
Power.
Control.
But it felt cold.
Empty.
Like a cage disguised as luxury.
A few maids moved silently through the hall, their heads lowered.
"Melinda."
Damian's voice echoed across the space.
A woman appeared quickly, middle-aged, neat, composed.
"Yes, Damian?"
The name echoed in my mind again.
Damian Carter.
And then it hit me.
I had seen that name before.
Magazine covers.
Business headlines.
Television interviews.
The youngest billionaire.
The ruthless CEO of Luthor's Corp.
A man feared in boardrooms.
A man whispered about in scandals.
And now....
The man who owned me.
My stomach churned violently.
This wasn't just about money.
This wasn't just about debt.
I hadn't just been sold.
I had been handed to a man who could destroy entire companies with a signature.
And he had chosen to take me.
Damian's gaze slid toward me again.
Slow.
Calculating.
Possessive.
"Clean her up," he instructed calmly. "She'll be staying."
Staying.
Not visiting.
Not temporarily.
Staying.
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
I didn't know what he wanted from me.
I didn't know what he planned to do.
But one thing was certain.
I was no longer in my father's hell.
I was in Damian Carter's world now.
And somehow…
That felt even more dangerous.
******
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