CHAPTER1
The Beginning of Lucy’s Nightmare
Lucy never believed in fate, but the day she lost her parents, it felt like the universe had written her tragedy long before she was born. The news came in the form of a knock on the door—a knock that shattered her world.
It had been a rainy evening when the officials arrived, their solemn faces confirming what she already felt deep inside her chest. The plane carrying her mother and father had crashed into the ocean. No survivors.
She didn’t cry at first. She just stood there, numb, as if her body had momentarily lost the ability to process emotions. But when night fell and silence wrapped around her like a suffocating shroud, the sobs ripped through her body. She was alone. Utterly, devastatingly alone.
And then, as if the universe had not taken enough from her, it sent her to him, her uncle, Leo.
A House That Wasn’t a Home
The moment Lucy stepped into Leo’s house, she knew she didn’t belong.
The mansion in Los Angeles was vast, cold, and lifeless, just like the people inside it. Leo, her father’s older brother, barely acknowledged her as she entered. His wife, Marissa, gave her a slow, assessing look—one that made Lucy’s skin crawl.
“I don’t like charity cases,” Marissa said, her tone dripping with disdain.
“She’s not charity. She’s family,” Leo muttered. But there was no warmth in his voice, only irritation, as if Lucy’s presence was a burden he had no choice but to carry.
That first night, she wasn’t given a bedroom. She was given a storage room.
It smelled of dust and forgotten things, with nothing but a thin mattress on the floor. No blankets. No pillows. Nothing.
Lucy sat in the corner, hugging her knees, trying to convince herself that she would wake up and find out this was all a nightmare. But when morning came and she was woken by Marissa’s sharp voice ordering her to scrub the floors, reality crashed down on her like a tidal wave.
She wasn’t a guest in this house.
She was a prisoner.
A Life of Servitude
Days turned into weeks. Weeks blurred into months.
Lucy had become nothing more than the household maid—cooking, cleaning, and serving, while Leo and Marissa treated her as if she were invisible.
She had no friends, no family left to turn to. She was trapped, enduring their cruelty in silence, holding onto the hope that one day, she’d find a way out.
But that hope shattered the moment she overheard a conversation that changed everything.
The Deal That Sold Her Soul
One evening, while clearing the dining table, Lucy paused when she heard Leo’s voice from his study. The door was slightly ajar, and curiosity made her step closer.
“What you’re asking is… extreme,” Leo muttered.
A deep, cold voice responded. “It’s a simple choice, Leo. Give me the girl, or watch your company crumble.”
Lucy’s breath caught in her throat.
“Ray, you can’t be serious—”
“I am serious. My money has kept your company afloat, and I don’t make investments without returns. I want her.”
Silence. A thick, suffocating silence.
Then Leo sighed. A defeated, hollow sound.
“You’ll take care of her?”
A low chuckle followed. “She’ll be mine.”
Lucy stumbled back, her pulse pounding in her ears.
They were selling her.
Like property. Like a thing.
She wanted to run, to scream, to fight—but where would she go? She had nothing. No one.
And so, she stood there, trembling as realization dawned.
Her uncle—her blood—had just agreed to trade her away.
For money.
For power.
For survival.
The Wedding That Sealed Her Fate
The very next day, Leo delivered the news with all the emotion of a businessman closing a deal.
“You’ll be marrying Ray Whitmore. The papers are already signed.”
Lucy stared at him, horror coursing through her veins. “I won’t.”
“You will,” he said sharply. “You have no choice.”
Her chest tightened. Her heart pounded. “I’m not some—some object you can trade!”
Leo leaned in, his gaze cold and unyielding. “Listen to me, girl. If you refuse, I’ll make sure you regret it. Do you think you have anywhere else to go? "Do you think anyone will save you?”
Lucy’s hands clenched into fists. Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
And then, before she could react, Marissa stepped forward, holding a white dress in her hands.
“Put it on,” she said, smirking. “Your husband is waiting.”
Lucy felt the ground beneath her collapse.
Tomorrow, she would no longer be Lucy Sinclair.
Tomorrow, she would become Mrs. Ray Whitmore.
And her nightmare was only just beginning.
