Chapter 3: Sold and Betrayed

Back then, I was drugged by my father and sold to The Velvet Room. He told me my brother would come for me after his wedding. I refused clients and was locked in a windowless basement room that smelled like bleach and old cigarettes.

Madame Quinn’s laugh was sharp as broken glass. “You actually believe men’s words?”

“Dad said he would come for me. He will.” I was sixteen, still believed in fathers.

She sneered and left, the door locking with a cold click.

I tried to escape twice, but Big Eddie—the meanest thug there—caught and beat me. Only when I vomited blood did he finally stop. “Madame says you’re worth more than most. But keep this up and she’ll cut her losses.”

In the pitch-black room, thick with the smell of blood, I lay on the cold ground while rats squeaked in the corners. I ate what I could, desperate to stay alive.

The third time, I succeeded. Another girl had taught me to pick locks before she died. I waited until Big Eddie was drunk and slipped out during the shift change.

Home was a new house in the suburbs, porch swing and all. Dad was shocked but let me in. At night, my new sister-in-law’s voice cut through the thin walls: “Your sister’s been at The Velvet Room. I can’t live under the same roof as a prostitute—what will the neighbors think?”

My brother agreed. “Alright, alright, she’ll leave tomorrow.”

“No, now. What if the madam comes for the money? We spent it all on the house.”

Their voices faded. Dad burst in with Madame Quinn’s men. He couldn’t meet my eyes.

He said, “You’re no longer part of the Snow family.”

I waited for regret in his eyes. There was nothing. Just relief, like he’d finally taken out the trash.

Finally, I accepted my fate. I learned to walk in heels that made my feet bleed, to laugh at jokes that made me sick, to make every man feel special.

Below me, the pain snapped me back.

Derek Shaw’s kiss fell on my brow. “Does it hurt?” His hips didn’t slow.

“Bear with it,” he muttered, eyes dark.

He was my first client, and if nothing went wrong, my last. All those years, Madame Quinn kept me “pure” for the highest bidder. Now I was spending that currency on revenge.

I bit my lip, hiding my distress, tears mixing with sweat. Marcus, look—what I wanted to give you before, you didn’t want. Now I lie beneath the man who killed you, doing everything I can to please him.

Don’t be sad. I’m doing this to avenge you.