It took a while before three of my best men were able to shove her into the car, finally. She was still banging the window and raining curses on all of us, her eyes burning with fury.
In a split second, she met my gaze across the sidewalk, and her brows knitted together. Her chest was rising slowly as a deep scowl carved into her face.
My lips curled into a faint mocking smirk, which only accentuated the frown on her face.
She was pissed. Good.
I walked over to the vehicle and climbed into the back seat, my expression stoic. At first, she didn’t say a word, and the silence between us was punctuated by the sound of her breathing—heavy and unsteady.
The hum of the engine filled the car’s cabin as we drove into the night, the city blurring past us. The silence still lingered for a while until she broke it—as expected.
“You’re evil,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “And I hope you and those soulless scumbags rot in hell.” She faced me, eyes burning with hatred.
I didn’t respond, didn’t even look in her direction.
“Ignore me all you want,” she growled. “But I hope you know money doesn’t make you a man. It just makes you a coward with a fat wallet.”
Again, no reply.
“You disgust me.” Her chest rose and fell with slow, uneven breaths. “May every drop of blood on your hands drown you in your sleep.”
Quietly, I looked at her and answered, “Amen.”
Her eyebrows furrowed, forming deep creases between them.
“Hate me all you want,” I murmured, my voice low enough to make her bristle. “But your fate is sealed already.” My eyes roamed over her body, drinking in the sight of her ripped clothes and disheveled hair.
Her faded jeans were torn, revealing her scraped knees, flecked with dried blood. She sat rigid, her posture screaming defiance—chin held up, shoulders squared, eyes blazing.
I met her gaze again and added, “You belong to me now.”
Her scowl intensified, glare sharpening.
“You should be grateful that I was the one who bought you, not one of those ‘soulless scumbags,’” I said, looking right into those fiery eyes of hers.
Her features clouded over, lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re no better than them.”
“Maybe,” I answered, toiling with my cufflinks. “I still own you.”
Her brows furrowed deeper. “Go to hell,” she murmured, her voice dripping with venom.
My lips twisted into a mischievous grin. “You’re in luck. We’re already hell.”
That instant, the estate gates creaked open, revealing the vast expanse of land. The car drove slowly along the serpentine driveway lined with towering trees and manicured gardens.
The mansion loomed in front of us, its stone façade adorned with gargoyles and topped with turrets. A grand fountain, complete with mythological statues, stood sentinel at the building’s entrance, water squirting from its center.
We pulled over in front of the giant building, and the driver killed the car’s engine. The girl looked at me as though she was confused about what to do. That wasn’t a sign of weakness, though, because her eyes still held that fury that pulled me in.
“Out,” I said, nodding toward her side of the door.
She hesitated for a second, but after I stepped out of the vehicle, she did the same. I walked toward the giant door at the entrance, and she followed quietly behind me.
Once inside, my shoes scuffed against the fine marble floor, the sound echoing off the high walls of the foyer. Her dirty feet stained the spotless floor with each step, her eyes discreetly drinking in the luxurious interior.
For some reason, she stopped in her tracks and then tried to bolt toward the door.
Too slow.
