chapter 3
1432 Words
The heavy metal door slammed shut behind me with a deafening clang. No chairs, no windows—just cold concrete walls and the faint, flickering glow of a single overhead light. The air was thick with dust and despair. Masked men stood like statues, their eyes sharp and unblinking beneath black helmets. It felt like a prison, not a place to be hired.
Nyla had dragged me in through the back, sneaking me past overflowing trash bins and broken crates. I still smelled like spoiled groceries, and the cheap, ill-fitting outfit she forced me to wear clung awkwardly to my skin. It was the same color and style as the dress I’d worn to meet Marcus—the one I’d hoped would be my fresh start. Now it felt like a shroud.
I scanned the room. Rows of women sat huddled together, their faces pale and eyes wide with fear. Some whispered prayers, others stared blankly ahead. The silence was suffocating.
A cold knot tightened in my stomach. Why had Maria lied? This wasn’t hiring. This was kidnapping.
My gaze landed on a woman near the far wall—one of the faces from the file Maria had shown me. Her skin was ghostly white, her lips cracked and dry. My heart hammered. If she was missing, then so was I.
Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the silence.
“Hey.”
I jumped, my throat dry. “Me?” I stammered, trying to steady my shaking hands.
“Yes, you. Step forward.”
My legs trembled as I obeyed, each step heavier than the last. I stole a glance at Nyla, but she looked away, her eyes filled with pity.
The man’s gaze swept over me like ice. “How did you get here? I told Felix not to buy people this size. We need workers, not pigs.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. Shame burned through me. So the auction was real. I had tried to warn James, but he’d dismissed it as a conspiracy theory. Now I was living it.
“Did I see you at the auction?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.
I looked at Nyla, desperate for help, but she remained silent. My legs shook. What could I say? What if he found out I was sneaked in? What if he found out I was a spy?
The room held its breath.
Then, the heavy door creaked open.
Every head snapped toward the entrance.
There he was—Andre Moretti.
He moved with the confidence of a predator, flanked by armed guards. His presence sucked the air from the room. The photos didn’t do him justice.
He bent to whisper something to a guard. without warning his guard abruptly yanked a woman from the crowd. She had fainted . Maybe from torture.
“How many times have I told you not to bring weaklings to my premises?” he snarled.
“Your Lord, these are the slaves we bought for your company,” the guard replied nervously.
Slaves. The word hit me like a fist. Maria hadn’t told me this. I was supposed to apply, not be sold.
My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his gaze.
He strode toward me.
“Who approved this purchase?” His voice was cold, commanding.
Silence swallowed the room.
“She’s physically unfit,” he said, eyes locked on mine.
He turned to the overseer. “Do you enjoy wasting my money?”
“I’m sorry, lord,” the man stammered.
Andre stopped in front of me.
His gaze travelled slowly from my shoes... ...to my face.
"Your shoes."
I frowned.
"They're clean. Everyone else came through the loading dock."
My pulse exploded.
Had he already figured out I didn't belong?
I opened my mouth to explain.
"I..."
He lifted my chin with one finger.
"Your name
“Elena Thompson,” I whispered, trembling.
His eyes bore into me, searching.
Before I could finish, a loud crash echoed from the entrance.
A servant had dropped a tray.
The room froze.
Andre’s gaze snapped to the noise.
The servant fell to his knees, begging for mercy.
Andre’s voice was calm, deadly. “Mistakes cost lives.”
He nodded to a guard.
“Replace him.”
The servant was dragged away. His pleas
No one dared look up.
A few seconds later...
A single gunshot echoed somewhere beyond the door.
Nobody reacted.
Andre turned back to the other women , inspecting them with ruthless precision.
“They’re all good except her,” he said, pointing at me. “She won’t survive factory work. "The child dismissed another nanny yesterday."
He looked at me again.
"She'll do.”
He turned away as though my fate had already been decided.
"Take her.”
My stomach twisted into knots.
Nanny? This wasn’t happening. I hadn’t even told my uncle about this mission. What if I didn't survive, how would he know what happened to me
Nyla didn’t meet my eyes as she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.
Behind me, I heard the crack of a whip and the screams of women.
__
.The mansion was more beautiful than I had imagined. I expected a dark, isolated fortress like the media painted it, but this was different. It looked like a fantasy penthouse from a movie.
The guards were everywhere, but they communicated without words, a silent language of glances and gestures.
“Wait here,” Nyla ordered, locking me in a lavish guest room. “Don’t move until I say.”
I looked out the window—isolated from civilization. No wonder its location was a secret.
I walked around the room slowly.
The carpet was so soft my footsteps disappeared.
Fresh flowers sat on the windowsill.
Expensive books lined the shelves.
Everything looked too ordinary.
How could a man accused of trafficking women live in a place like this?
I stared at the locked drawer.
Maria's warning echoed in my head.
If you walk through those gates, you may never walk out.
I should leave it alone.
One wrong move could expose me before I'd even started.
But if I walked away now, what had I risked my life for?
Taking a slow breath, I reached for the drawer.
I needed to find evidence. Feeling around, I found a release and opened it.
Inside was a dusty photo of Andre Moretti with a woman holding a child. Did he have a wife?
As I reached in, something cold fell—a silver bullet engraved with the name dragon.
My pulse stopped.
The name was engraved on the bullet recovered from the last murder scene.
My fingers trembled as I reached for my hidden camera. Maria had warned against bringing it.but thank God Ignored.
I took several pictures of it.
---
Hours passed. Nyla hadn’t returned. The house was eerily silent.
I tested the door—it was unlocked. I slipped out, following faint voices down a hallway.
I heard my heart pounding.
At a slightly open door, I reached to peek inside
when a cold hand clamped over my mouth.
“Shhh,” Nyla whispered, her hand still over my mouth.
Relief flooded me.
“What are you doing here? I told you not to leave the room.”she said
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I was pressed. I needed to urinate.”
Without warning, she pulled me toward the room and closed the door behind us.
“You’re lucky you weren’t caught. If you had been, by now you’d be dead. What were you thinking, Elena?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“There’s more to this mansion than you know. Andre and his men are ruthless. They never forgive. You’re the third person to take this assignment. Don’t ask me what happened to the others.”
I opened my mouth, but words failed me. Why had Maria hidden all this from me? What would happen to my siblings if I died?
I felt tears fall. For a moment, I hated myself. Maybe James was right—I wasn’t cut out to be a journalist.
“Don’t cry. There’s still hope. You just have to be careful.” she said
We both turned as a knock sounded at the door. Fear flickered across Nyla’s face. She hesitated, unsure whether to open it.
The tension was suffocating. Outside that door, I knew danger waited.
Inside, I was trapped between fear and determination.
The nightmare had only just begun.
Whoever stood outside that door...
had the power to end my mission before it had even begun
- Writer
