Sold

Prologue

My heart was pounding, my hands were trembling, my legs felt like jelly.

Where are they taking me?

They dolled me up. They laced me up in new attire. A mid-thigh, curve hugging black cocktail dress which seemed to compliment my perfect areas and hide my flaws. A diamond encrusted choker wrapped around my neck and a pair of diamond earrings were stuck into my ears. My coarse curly hair was washed, straightened, and styled to perfection by a woman who did not even dare to make eye contact with me. She did my makeup then pushed me to step into a pair of heels. They hurt like hell.

I requested to see myself in the mirror. It would be the first time in four days that I would see my reflection. Instead, she refused me the opportunity to do so.

Before I could argue, they pulled me from my personal prison and into the arms of a masked man who guided me out and into an awaiting black truck. He pushed me in. Waiting inside was another masked man with a black sack in hand. Before I could part my lips to speak, the mask was over my head, darkening my vision...

My eyes were useless now. They bonded together my hands and ankles with cuffs. I wanted to question the masked wrongdoers, I wanted to yelp to the top of my lungs however I knew of the outcome of my actions. I still had the red mark on my delicate skin to prove it.

The rolling vehicle hit a bump. A female voice mumbled a few venomous words.

In not alone.

A male passenger yelled for her to keep quiet. Just as she was told, she stopped. Even though I knew the outcome of disobedience, deep down I wanted her to speak. I wanted to hear her voice again. They took away the first voice I have heard in days since my freedom.

I sucked in a breath as I struggled to cease the tears that threatened to fall. It was no use crying anymore. They did not care about my sobs and cries and constant begging to released. No matter how many times I promised them I would not go to the authorities if they let me go, they still did not bat an eyelash for me.

Why me?

The vehicle slowed to a screeching halt. I could hear movement before they pulled out me and to my feet by my chains. Stumbling in my heels, I finally caught my balance before they pulled away me. Where am I going? Where am I? Where is the other female?

Men conversed with one another. Their language was foreign to me which left me confused and interested in what they were saying. I needed to know.

They snatched the sack from my head. I blinked repeatedly so my eyes could adjust to the bright lights of the room I was standing in. I looked around, cautiously taking in my surroundings, secretly searching from a quick escape. Nothing. Instead, all I found was three other females in both sides of me. Just as I, they looked fearful yet cautious of our whereabouts.

Soon, a man appeared before us. He was stubby, short man with a face that only a mother could love. He was draped in an all-black suit which seemed to be expensive. He looked among us, his eyes switching from one to the other without focusing on one too long. He opened his mouth to speak. Again, another person who did not speak my language.

His eyes focused in on me. My heart was now a beating drum against my chest. He spoke, his eyes informing me he directed his foreign words toward me. It was as if he was requesting something from me.

“Prenom?” He repeated. “Prenom?”

“What? Where am I?” My voice cracked.

He seemed to almost glow just as a sinister grin appeared on his face. Nervous, I took a small step back. The chains entangled around my legs nearly tripped me.

“American woman.” His accent was strong.

“You speak English. Where am I? Why am I here?” I nearly leaped at him. A waiting masked man had to cease me.

“You will go for such a pretty penny.”

“A pretty penny?”

My heart dropped to the pit of stomach. I could not breathe. I felt lightheaded, faint, and downright sick. His next words were like a punch to the face. No, correction, it was like a sledgehammer to the torso. Repeatedly. This is unreal. This was just a nightmare and I was going to wake from soon. In denial, I could not believe any of this was real.

“You are here to be sold.”