SHE SOLD ME TO THE DEVIL

CHAPTER TWO — RUN

He's the man buying you," my stepmother said, smiling as if it were the right thing to do.

For a few seconds, I couldn't understand what my stepmother had just said. I just stood there staring at her.

Buying me? Like I was something she found in a shop?

"No." The word slipped out before I could stop it.

I shook my head.

"No," I said again.

My stepmother tightened her grip on that stupid envelope.

That was all she cared about. She had always cared about money.

I looked at her and suddenly felt like I was staring at a stranger.

"You sold me?"

Instead of looking ashamed, she looked irritated.

"Oh, stop making a scene."

I quickly flashed back to what dad said to me in his room before he died. "Dad, what's going on?" I asked him. "Elena, I'm in serious trouble. Lucien is…" "I would protect you, my daughter," he said one day, but I was confused. I couldn't figure out what he meant, but I hoped it wasn't what my father wanted to prevent — and now it had just happened.

And now I was losing my mind, because why would my stepmother sell me to the devil — my father's enemy?

"A scene?" I repeated. "You sold me!"

"Lower your voice."

"I won't!"

My voice echoed through the room.

I didn't care anymore. I had endured enough in this house, and now I would fight for myself. I was angry, terrified, and heartbroken. Then my eyes landed on the flower vase sitting on the table.

Before I could think twice, I grabbed it and threw it across the room.

The vase smashed against the floor. Pieces flew everywhere. The sound made everyone jump.

Immediately, I regretted what I had just done.

It wasn't because of the vase, but because I remembered my mother — she had told me to control my anger whenever someone made me annoyed, but now I was going against her rules.

And my stepmother — if these people weren't here, she would have beaten me until I couldn't stand.

I waited for her to shout, insult, and slap me as she always did.

Instead, she was actually laughing.

"Thank God," my stepmother said.

I frowned at her because she was just so annoying.

"What?" I replied sharply.

She lifted the envelope slightly.

"Thank God your money is here. At least I can replace the vase."

For a moment, I couldn't speak, because the money was her only concern. The fact that she had just sold me meant nothing to her.

A flower vase was her concern.

I hated her so much. She was just a disgrace to motherhood.

Then she turned to Lucien with a smile.

"See what your future wife has done already?"

"I'm not his wife," I said, but nobody paid attention to me. I was shocked — why would she sell me at my tender age to a man who was older than me.

My stepmother kept talking as if I wasn't even there.

"Imagine destroying your husband's property before entering his house."

I looked at Lucien.

For the first time, I noticed he wasn't looking at the broken vase.

He was watching me carefully.

I crouched down and grabbed one of the sharp pieces of glass.

Gasps filled the room.

"Elena!"

My stepmother's face lost all its color.

I ignored her. I had made up my mind to kill him if that was the only way I could save myself.

The broken glass cut into my palm, but I barely felt it.

My whole body was shaking.

"I am not marrying him."

The bodyguards immediately became alert.

I pointed the glass at Lucien.

My hand trembled.

"Stay away from me," I said, shaking.

The room went silent.

Lucien didn't move. He didn't look worried or surprised.

That frightened me.

Any normal person would have reacted or given a command for his men to take the glass from my hand.

But he just stood there watching me.

"Did you hear me?" I shouted.

"Stay away from me!"

Then he took a step forward slowly.

"I mean it!" I said, and I truly meant it. I took another step toward him.

I panicked as I swung the glass.

The sharp edge caught his arm.

I became scared that I had just used a harmful object on someone.

A thin line appeared in his sleeve. Then blood began to gush out against the black fabric.

Oh God, I had actually cut him.

One of the bodyguards rushed forward immediately.

"Boss!"

Lucien raised a hand without looking away from me.

The man stopped instantly.

The room became so quiet I could hear my own breathing.

A drop of blood rolled down Lucien's wrist.

He looked at it, then he looked at me again.

I waited for him to explode, shout, or punish me.

Instead, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

He wiped the blood away with his thumb.

"Interesting. So you are as stubborn as your father," he said, smiling.

What? He had just mentioned my father. I wanted to run or disappear because I knew I was in trouble.

But my legs refused to move.

Then he looked around the room.

"Everyone out," he ordered.

One of the bodyguards hesitated.

"Boss?"

Lucien's eyes remained on me.

"I said out."

This time nobody argued.

The bodyguards and the servant left.

Even my stepmother left.

She paused at the door for a second before disappearing outside.

The door closed behind them.

Now it was just me and him.

My stomach twisted as I began to shake from the fear in me.

Lucien started walking toward me slowly.

I tightened my grip on the broken glass.

"Don't come closer," I said, shaking.

"Do you want to stab me with the glass?" he asked.

He ignored me as he kept taking another step toward me, until my back hit the wall.

Nowhere left to go. He stopped in front of me.

He was close enough for me to see the small scar near his jaw.

I was trapped — nowhere to run to, nobody to save me from this. Tears flowed down my cheeks.

His eyes dropped to my bleeding palm.

Then to the glass in my hand.

Then he looked back at my face.

"You attacked me."

I swallowed.

"You deserved it."

For a second, neither of us spoke.

"Do you know what usually happens to people who spill my blood?"

My throat went dry. I couldn't answer, because I knew I had put myself in trouble.

He reached for my hand.

I flinched.

But instead of hurting me, he took the broken glass from my fingers.

It slipped from my hand and landed on the floor just like that.

My only weapon was gone.

Lucien looked down at me, calm and cold.

He was completely in control.

"Most of them don't live long enough to regret it."

A faint smile appeared on his face, but it was a wicked smile.

Then his hand wrapped around my wrist. His grip was firm and strong around my wrist. It was impossible for me to break free from it.

I pulled immediately.

"Let me go!"

"No."

"Please!"

His grip didn't loosen, not even a little.

He leaned closer.

"You keep acting like this is a choice," he said, as he brought out a paper.

Tears burned my eyes. "Elena, sign this paper," he said.

"I am not signing it," I shouted. He pulled my hair. I shouted in pain. He kept pulling my hair until he dragged me down to my knees.

"I won't sign it," I said, facing him with tears in my eyes as he continued to drag my hair. But I still insisted that I wouldn't sign it, because if I signed it, I knew I wouldn't be able to break free from him forever.

"You are as stubborn as your father," he said.

"Why do you keep mentioning my father?" I asked, but he didn't answer.

"Sign it," he said, but I refused.

Then he stopped dragging my hair. Tears filled my eyes.

For a moment, he just looked at me.

Then he slowly shook his head.

"Stop crying, my wife," he said.

"You were sold the moment I walked through that door," he added. "So whether you sign or not, you are mine."

For the first time that night, I believed him.