The next day, I woke up in a different room. It was filled with girls—strangers, yet somehow familiar in their shared pain. I hate to admit it, but I had cried the night before. It was the first time I'd cried since being here, and I swore to myself it would be the last. Crying made me feel weak and pathetic, and I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break again.
This morning, as I stirred awake, every girl's eyes were on me. Some looked sad. Others had tears welling up but held them back. Strangely, that reassured me. It meant I wasn't alone. We all knew, deep down, this was wrong.
In this new room, my days were to be filled with learning to dress up, put on makeup, and dance. They talked about prostitution like it was glamorous and elegant—like something out of Pretty Woman. But from what the girls told me, nothing could be further from the truth.
A prostitute might sleep with four strangers a day. Men could walk in at any time—day, evening, or night—no warning, no choice.
One girl confided in me that sometimes five men came to her room, sometimes ten. She said her only escape was in her mind. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, and it never stopped. Another girl shared how violent some clients were. She'd been shot twice and stabbed five times. The worst part? She didn't know why. She suspected society had made it easy for men to hurt her without consequence. She never went to the police—she didn't think they'd care. And she considered herself lucky. Her best friend, working the streets, wasn't so fortunate. Murdered by a client. After that, she never worked outside again. She said working under Li Wei saved her life. Personally, I think she's lost a part of herself.
The afternoon passed in a blur of nothingness. I sat, staring into space, my first day as a prostitute dull and uneventful. But how did I expect it to be? Every second of every hour, my mind drifted back to my mother. Wondering how she was doing. No—I knew exactly what she was doing. Freaking out. I was, too. But I couldn't show it. Not in front of the girls.
I'm tough. I know I can get out of this. I just need to wait patiently. The right moment will come—and when it does, I'm going to tear this place apart. One thing you should know about me: never underestimate me. I might look like I'm settling into this new life, but I'm always planning. Always.
"Maggie?"
I finish applying my mascara and look up to see one of the girls leaning her curvaceous hip against the doorframe.
"Yes?"
She smiled. "You've got your first summons."
I forced a smile back. "I have?"
"Yeah. Lucky you."
I put a hand to my chest, gasping dramatically. "Why? Who is it?"
She winks. "You'll see, babe."
After that, I change out of my blue silk robe and get dressed. I slip into a black lace bodysuit, floral-patterned with a halter neck plunging low. The moment I see myself in the mirror, discomfort floods me. How the hell am I supposed to sell my body looking like this? I'd never worn lingerie before—and I swore I never would. It wasn't me. I didn't want to.
But that was before I was kidnapped. Now, I have no choice.
Great.
I leave the room and the girls behind, following a guard through the worn-down house. How long are we even going to be here? The place looks like it could collapse any second.
The guard catches me off guard. I was expecting the young guard with the jagged nose. Maybe it's his day off.
Without a word, the guard leads me upstairs to a room at the end of a cracked hallway. He stops in front of a door, cracked and peeling. He nods, motioning me inside.
I take a deep breath, exhale, and push the door open.
The moment it closes behind me, I gasp. Strong arms shove me onto the mattress, flipping me onto my back. Muscular thighs trap me tight against the bed, one on either side of my ribcage. I stifle a growl as I see Yuta looming over me, his firm grip holding my wrists pinned above my head.
An image flashes in my mind—his face nestled between my thighs—and a shiver races down my spine.
"Get off me." I grit my teeth.
He grins maliciously. "Have you already forgotten your place, whore?"
"How can I, when you're always reminding me?" I spit back.
My chest rises in quick pants, brushing my breasts against his hard chest.
"You're a whore. My whore." He growls.
I am nobody's property. Period.
"I'd rather die than be your personal whore." My voice is hoarse. "Let me leave this place, or I swear, I'll kill you—and everyone here. Including your brothers."
Yuta scoffs. "I'd love to see you try, slut."
"What do you want from me? I have nothing you want." I gather every ounce of strength and try to throw him off, but he doesn't budge.
"Wrong." He runs his fingers slowly up my arm to my shoulder. Then he grabs my throat in his large palm, squeezing just enough to remind me who owns me. "You're mine. I can do whatever the fuck I want."
I open my mouth to protest, but before I can speak, his lips crash against mine. Soft but demanding, his kiss was far from gentle. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth and licks along the seam of my lips. The kiss screams ownership—and I hate it.
I push at his solid chest and try to pull away, but his tongue touches mine, groaning into the contact. A spark ignites inside me, pooling between my legs. Yuta uses his knee to spread mine apart, settling between them. His lips never leave mine as he rocks his erection against my core.
My body hums from the friction. I moan into his mouth. His hands find the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
With a low growl, he suddenly breaks the kiss.
I gasp, pushing him away—only to be yanked to my feet before I can say anything. His arm pins me tight against his body while his other hand slides beneath my bodysuit, squeezing my ass roughly. I whimper from the harshness.
His fingers trail down the crack of my ass, teasing the lace that covers me. His grin widens at the dampness there.
"Is this for me?" His eyes lock onto mine, fierce and commanding.
"I wish it were Chen fucking me, not you." I seethe, slapping him hard.
With a ferocious growl, Yuta shoves me back against the wall, spreading my legs with his knees. One strong jerk rips the lace fabric. His bare cock presses teasingly against my entrance. When he pushes inside, he groans.
He thrusts hard, pinning me against the wall with his muscular thighs. His hands grab my breasts, squeezing roughly.
"I want to straddle Chen's cock and ride him," I whisper. "I want his rough hands on my skin, his cock inside me. I wish he was here."
"Fuck, Maggie." His voice is raw and primal as he pounds into me faster and harder. My body begins to shake, his thrusts urgent and relentless. His breath ragged, he grabs my face, pulling my mouth to his.
"You like that?" he asks hoarsely.
He releases my mouth, spins me around, and pushes me forward against the wall again. His hands grip my ass, yanking my hips back as he gives me full, hard thrusts.
"I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Understand?" His voice is sharp and thick with possessiveness.
I don't answer. My orgasm is too close. Every muscle tightens, my core throbs and contracts around him. His eyes close briefly at the sensation.
Suddenly, Yuta pulls out, leaving me gasping and aching.
"Suck me." He growls, shoving me down to my knees.
I slide his silky cock into my mouth, every inch setting off a scream inside me. My teeth ache to bite him, to taste blood. His fist clenches in my hair as he grunts, pushing deeper.
I gag, spit dribbling from my lips. I try to keep a rhythm, but he doesn't ease up. I lick, suck, swirl until my mouth aches. His stomach tenses, balls tightening. The musky scent fills my nose. His hands dig harder into my hair.
His low groans deepen as I cup his balls, squeezing.
Then I taste it—the first spurt of cum on my tongue. Yuta cries out, body tightening as he empties inside me.
"Swallow it," he growls. "All of it."
Tears stream down my cheeks, but I obey. Sick to my stomach, but no choice.
When he pulls away and zips his pants, I shove myself away, stand, and wrap the torn bodysuit around me.
"Well, that wasn't the best blowjob I've had, but I'm sure we can improve. More appointments, maybe."
"Fuck you, pig," I spit.
"You just did. And from the sound of it, you enjoyed yourself."
I glare at him. "Be grateful you still have a cock."
He spits back. "Be grateful you're still alive."
"What? You think I wanted this? To be a whore?"
Yuta exhales, rolling his eyes. "You didn't have a choice."
"This isn't me. I refuse to be a pushover. I refuse to obey you—or anyone. I don't care who you are."
"Get to the point," he snaps.
I step closer, chin high. "I'd rather die than serve you again."
He just purses his lips. "Sorry to hear that, darling. But you won't be dying anytime soon."
I frown. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Someone wants to meet you."
"Who?"
He just smiles.
"Who is it?" I demand again.
He only smiles wider.
I roll my eyes, turn for the door, and suddenly—smack. A rag pressed against my face, smelling of something sharp and unfamiliar. I fight, but the fumes are too strong. They slip into my lungs, then my bloodstream.
Darkness closes in.