I was sold to a man who doesn't believe in mercy. Anita Blade didn't blink when she offered me to her daughter's potential billionaire fiancé, Dan Baron. "He wants a virgin. You'll do. And in return, your mother lives." Marissa laughed like she couldn't wait to watch me bleed.
I stood there, shaking in cheap shoes, knowing what it meant. My body for my mother's life. I didn't speak. I just nodded. Because when you're twenty, broke, and your mom's dying in a hospital bed—you become the kind of girl who lets herself be bought.
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The First Time He Touched Me, I Forgot My Own Name
The room was black. No lights. No escape. His voice came first—low, hungry. "You smell like sin." Then fingers—hot, deliberate—brushed my arm like I was dessert. My breath caught. "Soft," Dan murmured, dragging his hand down, slow as torture. "So fucking soft." I whispered, "Go slow."
"Baby," he growled, pressing his heat into my stomach, "Once I start, I won't stop." And when he kissed my neck, my legs nearly gave out. I wasn't scared anymore. I was wet. Burning. Ready to break.
She Climbed Into His Bed Like I Didn't Even Exist
Sunlight spilled over my bare skin as I slipped out of his sheets. I didn't look back. Couldn't. But in the hallway, Marissa waited—smirking, cold, perfect. "Took you long enough," she snapped, then pushed past me and crawled under the same covers I'd just escaped.
My scent still lingered on the pillows. My body still ached from him. She didn't care. And neither did he. I walked away, heart bleeding between my legs.
He Walked In, and Every Nerve in My Body Lit Up
He entered my classroom like the room belonged to him. Dan Baron—youngest billionaire in America, predator in a tailored suit. His eyes scanned the students, then stopped on me. "Name?" he asked. "Cindy…" I croaked. "Cindy Quartz." His lips curled.
"Didn't recognize you with your clothes on." I stopped breathing. My skin burned, my stomach twisted, and somewhere between shame and desire—I remembered what it felt like to have his hands all over me.
I Wanted Him to See the Bruise She Left on My Face
Anita hit hard, backhanded rage across my cheek. "You're nothing," she spat. "You belong on your knees." I barely had time to wipe the blood before he arrived. Dan. His eyes didn't miss a thing. "I don't like seeing people treated like garbage," he said. Then, without flinching, he turned to Marissa.
"I took your virginity. I'll marry you." I stood there, face burning, heart cracking. Because he lied. We both knew it wasn't her he'd ruined. It was me.
Will He Expose My Lie?
He cornered me behind the kitchen. "That night," he asked. "Was it you?" I lied. "No." His body pressed into mine, breath ragged. "Tell me to stop." I couldn't.
His mouth found my throat. His hips crushed against me. "You don't know what you do to me," he whispered. I should've said no. Instead, I melted into the fire. And burned.
The Slutty Dress He Wanted Me to Wear
The box arrived an hour before dinner—black ribbon, blood-red silk. A dress is too expensive for someone like me. When I touched it, I didn't feel like a servant. I felt… seen. Wanted.
But Marissa saw it, too. She tore it from my shoulders, ripped it like revenge, and locked me in the pantry. "Stay out of sight, Cinderella," she spat.
Truth About the Evil Mother and Daughter
I picked the lock with a hairpin. Crawled out bloody and barefoot. The dining room fell silent when I entered—ripped dress, wild hair, shaking knees.
Dan stood. "Where were you?" he asked. I couldn't speak. "Sit," he ordered, pulling out the chair beside him. I sat. Because somehow, even torn open, I still belonged next to him.
The Bride Gets Ready to the Big Day
The wedding was a lie wearing lace. Marissa fussed with her veil while I pinned it in place. Dan stepped in behind me. "I needed to see you," he said, voice low.
"Was it you that night?" My mouth stayed shut. He leaned close. "Don't lie. I know when you lie." Then he left. And told me to watch.
The Billionaire Says "I Don't"
"Do you take Marissa Blade—" the priest began. "No," Dan said. The crowd gasped. "She wasn't the one in my bed," he declared.
"She lied. They all did." Anita stood, seething. Marissa shrieked. Dan pointed at me. "She's the one. The real one. The one who gave me something real." Silence followed. Then chaos.
Does the Servant Girl is the Chosen One?
"You'd leave me for her?" Marissa spat. "She's nothing!" Anita added. Dan didn't flinch. "I'd leave everything for her."
He turned to me. "Cindy Quartz, you saved me. Now let me save you." He dropped to one knee in front of everyone. And suddenly, I was the only one who couldn't breathe.
The Question That Shattered the Fantasy
He didn't kneel this time. He just stared. Hard. Quiet. "Tell me what they made you do," Dan said, voice low enough to cut skin. I opened my mouth—but the words stuck. Because I'd heard something. A sound from the hallway. Not a servant. A recording. A camera. A threat.
And in that second, everything changed. This wasn't about love anymore. Someone was watching. Someone knew. And if I told Dan the truth… they'd destroy him.
What Was Hidden Inside the Millionaire's Dress Box
The red silk dress hadn't been just a gift. It was a setup. Buried in the lining, I found it—thin, black, barely visible. A tracking device. My breath locked in my throat. They'd known where I was that night. Every second. Every move. And maybe it wasn't Dan who sent the dress.
Perhaps it was Marissa. Or Anita. Or someone worse. I held it in shaking fingers, suddenly unsure who the real monster was in this story—Dan… or me.
Her Voice on the Tape
The audio file came through at 2 a.m.—no sender. Just a name: Cindy_Confession.mp3. I pressed play. My voice. My moans. My words. The night he touched me. Twisted. Cut. Rearranged. "I wanted it," I said. "I tricked him." I didn't say those things—not like that. But they made it sound real. Too real.
I was being framed. Someone was going to use this. To ruin him. Or ruin me. Or both.
Is it Something You Can Never Undo?
I tried to warn him. I slipped into his penthouse before dawn, shaking. "They know everything," I whispered. He didn't ask who. He just stared. "How long have you been lying to me?" I opened my mouth— A shadow moved behind the curtain. He wasn't alone. I wasn't safe.
And suddenly, I realized—this wasn't about love anymore. This was survival. And someone wasn't going to make it out of this story alive.