SASHA
"I've changed my mind," Yema mutters, his lips downturned in disgust. "I'm making the stupid Russian wait another week. He'll pay more if he thinks there's something special about you."
"No, please?" The plea leaves my lips before I have a chance to taper it away. I know better than to show them something I want. It's best to make them believe everything about you is gone that you wish for nothing. They discover one little thing, and they use it to control you.
His evil-sounding laugh rings out, drawing the attention of the other women waiting to be thrown onto the stage and sold to the first wealthy pig who's willing to spend some money. "What is this, girl? You think this is some fairy tale?"
"No...I..."
"Have you forgotten your visit from Boris? He is Russian, the same as Mas
