“You sure you want to do this?” Aldrich asks from the driver’s seat.

I had to sneak out of the back of the club, him as my driver, in his car. The paparazzi have been on my ass lately, more than usual. I know it’s because my mother has a new movie coming out, but fuck, I’m over it.

“Private viewing, a woman meeting my specifications? Yeah, I’m sure,” I smirk.

Rich shakes his head. “Do I even want to know what your specifications were?” he asks lifting a brow.

I chuckle, turning my head toward the closed black door. I know on the other side she will be there. I can feel it in my bones. The woman waiting tonight, she’s the one for me.

“Willing. A virgin. Mine. Young,” I shrug.

I can feel Aldrich’s eyes burning into me. “How young?” he barks.

My head turns toward his. “Don’t be a fucking pervert. Nineteen or older. Fuck, what do you think I am?”

“Just making sure, this world can get ugly, Whitty.”

Shaking my head, I reach for the door handle. “I’m not like that, Rich. I would hope you’d know me better.”

He reaches for my arm, wrapping his fingers around my shoulder to stop me. “I know you’re not like that, but this whole thing. It can be really fucking ugly, Whitty. I know you want to find someone, but maybe this isn’t the way for you?”

“Pop the trunk,” I grind out.

The money I need is in the back, in a duffle, waiting for me. Unmarked bills. Millions of dollars in hundreds, stacked and waiting for the trade.

“Maybe I should come with you,” Aldrich offers before he pops the trunk and exits the vehicle.

I shrug, walking around the back of the car. Wrapping my fingers around the duffle, I lift it from the trunk. It’s heavy as fuck, but I don’t mind. I’ll be happy to unload it, especially if the promise of this exchange is what I think it will be.

“I got this, Rich. I know you’re worried, don’t be,” I say, giving him a wide grin.

He smirks. “I’m only a phone call away. How will you get home?” he asks.

“Called my driver already. He’ll be waiting,” I offer.

Rich looks back behind me toward the door, and then at me. “I’ll wait until he gets here. I just… I want to make sure you’re all good. Sam knows who you are, it could be a trap.”

I keep my gaze focused on Rich’s. “I’m okay. This is what I want, he wouldn’t fuck me over. Not after as many times as we’ve been here, and the women he’s sold. He has to protect his own ass too,” I point out.

Aldrich lets out a sigh. “Just watch your back,” he grunts.

I lift my free hand, giving him a two-fingered wave before I turn around and head toward the door. Once I’m in front of the black doorway, I inhale deeply before I lift my hand and knock three times. Taking a step back, I hold my breath as the door slowly swings open.

I’m surprised that it isn’t one of his cronies to answer the door. It’s the man himself, Mr. Sam.

“Whitaker, she is ready and waiting for your approval,” he grins. His smile is cold, his eyes like goddamn ice. The man is made of unbreakable stone, I’m convinced.

Before walking past him, I tilt my head to the side. “She’s what we discussed?”

Mr. Sam’s smile widens. “Educated, refined, young, a virgin, and docile.”

Walking past him, I make my way into his den of sins. I should feel guilty. I should feel dirty. I shouldn’t feel as downright fucking excited as I do.

“You look beautiful,” my mother whispers.

Standing in front of the mirror, I decide that she is not wrong. I look sexy. Something that I never thought possible. At five-foot-two and eighty-five pounds my curves are non-existent. I honestly don’t know why any man would want me, let alone would pay my father to purchase me.

Shaking my head, I can’t believe that I even live in the modern world. Buying women, selling women. It’s so wrong. I know it’s wrong, my father knows it’s wrong, yet he does it every day.

I remember when I found out what his job really was. I was sick for days, weeks. I’ve never been able to accept it, even if I tried to accept my position.

“Why does this have to happen?” I ask her.

She clears her throat, standing behind me she’s fiddling with my curled strawberry blonde hair. Her eyes meet mine in the reflection of the mirror.

“We all have our burdens to bear, Stassia. This is yours. He’s told me of the man. I’ve seen him here. He looks, he never bids,” she explains, as if this is supposed to comfort me somehow.

I glance at the white lace that attempts to cover me and frown. The romper is see-through white lace with a capped sleeve and a V-neck that is so deep it doesn’t end until it hits the top of my belly button. The shorts are crotchless, though thankfully they’re loose so you can’t tell. On my feet I’m wearing a pair of designer white high-heels.

My mother brings back some sections of hair, braiding and twisting them to ensure that my face and neck are exposed. My makeup is light, done up in peaches and cream, making me look every bit the innocent part that I am meant to portray—the innocent part that I very much am.

“I don’t understand why you would allow this? Why he would want this?” I ask, not for the first time in my life. It seems this question I’ve asked a million times over and over again.

My mother lifts her hands, placing them on my shoulders before she slowly turns me around. When we’re face to face, only then do I see the sadness swimming in her eyes. She reaches up, cupping my cheeks in her hands.

“Stassia, this is how it was always meant to be. I was raised to be the woman for your father. You have been raised to be the woman for this man. Be what he needs. Accept what he gives. Show him love. Show him his desires come to life. Be his fantasy and he will worship you,” she whispers.

I want to snort in her face, to tell her that she’s just being held hostage by an abuser. Granted my father doesn’t hit her that I know of, but her mind is completely warped. However, the look in her eyes, maybe she isn’t.

I’ve been lost for so long, maybe she’s right. Maybe this man will find me, and then I can find myself? Or maybe, I’m just reaching, trying to grasp onto anything because I’m scared out of my mind.

There’s a knock on the door and my father appears. My mother steps to the side, lowering her gaze to her feet as she crosses her hands in front of her.

My gaze moves to my father and I watch as he looks me up and down. “He said he wanted small. I hope he really does. Are you ready? Kiss your mother goodbye, you won’t be seeing her again.”

I gasp, turning to my mother. She lifts her head, a tear shimmering in her eye. “You will be his now. No longer ours. I love you, Stassia.” Her lips graze my cheek, careful not to leave a lipstick mark and she slowly steps away, until her back hits the wall of the small space.

Taking one shaky step forward, then another, I make my way toward my future. Hopefully, it won’t end up being my hell.