Bought to be his Fake Wife

My God, help me!

GABRIELLE POV

Gabrielle sat on the cold, hard bedroom floor, her mind a chaotic whirlpool of confusion and disbelief. The room’s dim light cast long shadows on the walls, amplifying the dread that seemed to permeate every corner of her reality. The previous night had been a blur of fear and helplessness; confined in this barren room without food or the chance to freshen up, she had spent hours pondering the bizarre and distressing circumstances that had led her here.

As the first rays of the morning sun peeked through the small window, they were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. Tamara entered, her expression unreadable, followed closely by Meral, who looked as though she had stepped out of a dream. Meral’s presence was both imposing and unsettling.

“Good morning, my dears,” Meral greeted, her tone smooth yet laced with a hint of incredulity, as though the situation was almost amusing to her.

“Vagabond, you wretch,” Lamia spat out, her voice dripping with disdain. Her animosity toward Meral was palpable.

“Good morning to you as well, my love,” Meral replied, unfazed by the insult. Her smooth, almost amused tone did nothing to ease the tension in the room.

“Get up, you’ll go to the doctor and then prepare yourself,” Tamara instructed Gabrielle, her voice holding a note of finality.

Gabrielle blinked, trying to process Tamara’s words. “Which doctor?” she asked, her confusion evident. The word ‘doctor’ carried a weight of uncertainty she wasn’t prepared to face.

“We need to know your health status and whether you are a virgin,” Tamara replied, her tone as clinical as her words.

“Virgin?” Lamia echoed, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Exactly. Tonight you will be up for auction, and I must ensure the safety of my merchandise,” Meral declared, her gaze shifting between Lamia and Gabrielle as if the discussion were merely a business transaction.

Gabrielle’s heart pounded in her chest. “Surely this must be a joke. You must be crazy,” she said, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear.

“Crazy? No... You, my little dear, are going to be my diamond of the night,” Meral assured Gabrielle, her eyes glinting with a chilling sort of satisfaction.

Gabrielle’s mind raced, trying to reconcile the nightmarish reality with the life she had once known. “I’m going to make you rot in jail. Pay attention to that,” she warned Meral with a steely resolve.

Meral’s laughter was cold and dismissive.

“We’ll see about that,” she said, turning on her heel and leaving the room with a swish of her elegant robe.

As night fell, the atmosphere in the brothel became thick with tension and anticipation. The security guard arrived to escort them individually, each of them in tears, their misery a silent testimony to their grim fate.

“We just need to complete the picture. Come over, cutie,” the security guard said with a lascivious grin, his tone dripping with malice.

Gabrielle recoiled, her heart racing as she took a step back. “I refuse to go with you,” she said defiantly, her voice trembling with anger.

Without warning, the security guard seized her by the arm with a rough grip. “Better pray to God that you get sold at auction, because if you don’t and end up staying in the brothel, I'll be the first one in line for you,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and menacing.

Gabrielle’s response was immediate and visceral; she spat in his face, her defiance a small, bitter victory.

“You damn thing,” the security guard roared, his fury barely contained.

Gabrielle knew he was unlikely to physically assault her. Her appearance had to remain flawless for the auction. Despite the turmoil inside, she had to maintain a semblance of composure.

The auction hall was a cavernous space, bathed in the harsh glare of stage lights that rendered every detail stark and unforgiving. The room was filled with masked individuals, their identities hidden but their intentions all too clear. When Meral revealed Gabrielle’s worth, the lack of surprise among the audience only deepened Gabrielle’s fear.

She felt like a deer caught in the headlights, torn between the terror of being sold off to an unknown buyer and the dread of being forced into a life of prostitution. The room seemed to spin, her thoughts a frantic scramble as she struggled to process her options.

“250 million dollars,” a man’s voice rang out, his bid echoing through the hall like a death knell.

Gabrielle’s heart sank. “My God, help me!” she whispered fervently to herself, her silent prayer a desperate plea for deliverance from her dire predicament.

The auction proceeded at a breakneck pace, each moment slipping through her fingers like sand. The world outside seemed a distant memory, her only reality confined to the cold, merciless arena of the auction.

Upon arriving in Florence, Gabrielle’s situation took on a new layer of complexity. The grand house she was led to was as opulent as it was intimidating. The extravagant luxury of the place starkly contrasted with the grim reality she had just escaped from. Carlos, who had been her only semblance of kindness amidst the chaos, guided her through the vast, gilded rooms.

“Until the wedding, this room will be yours,” Carlos informed her, his voice carrying a note of genuine sympathy.

Gabrielle glanced around, her eyes taking in the ornate decor and the sheer extravagance of her new surroundings. “Thank you. So far, you’ve been the only one who’s been kind to me,” she said, her voice laden with gratitude and weariness.

“Mr. Leo is a good man, you’ll see,” Carlos assured her, his tone reassuring yet tinged with an edge of uncertainty.

“I don’t want to see it. I just want to head back home,” Gabrielle insisted, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. Carlos lowered his head, a look of resignation crossing his features before he exited the room, leaving Gabrielle alone with her thoughts.

The silence in the room was almost oppressive. Gabrielle’s mind raced with thoughts of her parents, who must be frantic with worry. The decision to defy her mother’s advice had led her to this nightmarish situation, and she was tormented by guilt and regret.

A knock on the door jolted her from her reverie. She opened it to find Leo standing there, his presence both unexpected and unsettling.

“We need to talk,” Leo said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him with a decisive click.

Gabrielle met his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and defiance. “About what?” she asked, her voice taut with tension.

“About why you’re here,” Leo responded, his expression unreadable.

“I was brought here against my will,” Gabrielle said bluntly, her voice carrying the weight of her frustration and fear.

Leo’s eyes bore into hers, his expression softening slightly. “I have the power to grant you your freedom, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle’s eyebrows shot up in skepticism. “Really, Leo?” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm and disbelief.

“Are you willing to make a deal with me, Gabrielle?” Leo asked, his voice steady and serious.

Gabrielle’s curiosity was piqued despite her lingering fear. “Feel free to speak. I’m listening, Leo,” she replied, her voice a mix of wariness and reluctant hope.

As Leo began to outline the terms of their potential deal, Gabrielle listened intently, her heart caught between hope and skepticism. The offer of freedom, if genuine, was a lifeline she desperately needed, but trust was a luxury she could ill afford in her current predicament.