When love finds you

Chapter 4 Annabelle

I had just finished the housework and was about to get cleaned up when I overheard my stepmother’s hushed conversation on the phone.

"She’ll be ready by 2 PM. Just get the money ready."

My breath hitched. *Who was she talking about?

I shook it off and headed to my room, trying to ignore the unease creeping up my spine.

Five hours later...

"Bella!"

Stepmom Olive’s sharp voice cut through the silence, growing louder as she stormed toward my room. The moment I opened the door, her hand cracked across my face, the sting burning my cheek.

"Didn’t you hear me calling you?" she hissed, her eyes blazing.

"I-I’m sorry," I stammered, but before I could react, her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking me out into the living room.

Three men in black suits stood there—two looming near the doorway, while the third, dressed in a crisp white shirt, sat on the sofa like a king surveying his domain. His gaze locked onto me, cold and calculating.

"What a pretty butterfly," he mused, his voice smooth yet menacing.

Confused, I glanced around, searching for an insect that wasn’t there.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I kept my eyes down—Olive had beaten me too many times for daring to meet her gaze.

"I said, LOOK AT ME."

His rough fingers gripped my chin, forcing my head up. My body trembled under his scrutiny.

"She has a pretty face… and the perfect body," he murmured, tracing a finger along my jawline.

"I told you," Olive smirked.

Then it hit me—the phone call. I was the one she was selling.

The man handed Olive a briefcase. She snapped it open, her lips curling in satisfaction.

"I hope it’s complete," she said.

"It is," he confirmed.

Rage surged through me. "I HATE YOU!" I screamed, my voice raw with betrayal.

Olive’s smirk faltered for a split second before she advanced on me. "What did you just say?"

"I HATE YOU, YOU b***h! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? YOU HAVE A CHILD TOO—REMEMBER THAT!"

Her hand flew up to strike me again, but before the blow landed, the man in white caught her wrist mid-air.

"You don’t own her anymore," he said icily. "She’s ours now."

Olive leaned in, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, "With them, you won’t last a week."

My breath hitched. Where the hell is Dad?"

"Where’s my father?" I demanded.

She scoffed. "That i***t? On a business trip."

"When he finds out, you’ll rot in jail!"

"Oh, sweetheart," she sneered. *"By the time he’s back, I’ll have convinced him you ran off with some boy… or maybe even died in a car crash."

The man—Mr. Jones—grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. "Enough talk. We have a flight to catch."

Hot tears streaked down my face as he dragged me toward the car. Olive called after us, "What about her clothes?"

"She’ll get new ones. We’re already late."

The moment the car door slammed shut, I plotted my escape. If they’re heading to the airport, that’s my chance.

"Such an obedient girl,"* Mr. Jones mused, more to himself.

I stayed silent, my mind racing.

Then, he turned to the old driver. "Cash, do you think my son will like her?"*

The driver hesitated. *"Your son is… gay, sir."

The air turned deadly. Mr. Jones’ knuckles whitened. "And who told you that?"

The driver paled. "Apologies, sir. I spoke out of turn."

"STOP THE CAR!" Mr. Jones roared.

The tires screeched. He flung the door open and stormed out, leaving the driver exhaling in relief.

"What are they going to do to me?" I whispered.

The old man glanced at me with pity. "i think he plans to marry you off to his son, Kylan."

"Who’s Kylan?"

"The heir to everything Mr. Jones owns."

"Is he really gay?"

The driver nodded. *"From what I’ve heard, yes. Never seen him with a woman."*

"Poor boy,"* he added softly. "After his mother left, he became… difficult."

My pulse pounded. This is my only chance.

While Mr. Jones was distracted, I flung the door open and ran—not looking back, not stopping, just running.