Page 10 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

"Riiip—"

Fabric tearing. Despair crashed over me. The buttoned shirt ripped open, torn down to my waist. Cold air hit bare skin. I shivered, almost blacking out.

Gary stared. Eyes gleaming. Drool sliding down his slack jaw.

"Well, well. Turns out you've got the goods!"

Nausea churned my stomach. Acid burned my throat. I nearly vomited. But Gary didn't stop. He looked like he'd struck gold. That sudden mania terrified me.

"What's the difference between selling yourself once and twice? Put on something more revealing. Let those wealthy buyers passing by see your worth."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The metallic tang couldn't suppress the rising sickness or the cold despair spreading through my limbs.

"Let me go!" I screamed. Useless. My struggle only excited him more.

"Hey, mister, my daughter's prime goods. Tight, hot, barely touched. Wanna try? Fifty bucks."

He was pimping me out. Literally pricing me on the street.

I could barely see. Humiliated tears spilled onto his rough hand. I twisted violently, but his grip tightened. My wrist bones felt ready to snap.

Passersby stared. Those probing, lewd, indifferent gazes—like needles piercing my skin.

No. Don't look at me like that. I'm not a whore.

I drove my elbow back with everything I had.

Gary sucked in air. His hold loosened for a second. I seized the chance, wrenched free, and scrambled away.

Cold wind slashed my face, tears streaming down my throat. I thought I'd escaped. But I underestimated Gary's madness. He caught my hair again, slamming me into a wall.

My skull cracked against the brick. Pain buckled my knees. Gary grabbed my chin, wrenching my face toward him. His red eyes burned with cruelty.

"You little bitch, you dare run? I raised you this long—you're gonna earn your keep!"

I glared at him, then bit down hard on his hand. He grunted. Raised his hand to strike.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The blow never came. A strong hand caught Gary's wrist.

The voice came low, laced with fury, ground through clenched teeth.

"What the hell are you doing to her?"

I opened my eyes. Followed that hand upward. Shirtsleeve rolled to the forearm. Prominent wrist bone. Veins bulging from the force.

Then I saw his face.

Severe. Rigid.

Ivan Volkov.

My hero. Twice now, pulling me from hell.

Chapter Four

Ivan

I saw her when Dmitri was droning on behind me about shipping costs. I didn't even recognize her at first.