Owned By The Devil Himself

ORTENSIA

"It's been thirty minutes since we left my workplace, Cayden," I said, my voice laced with frustration. My stepbrother remained silent, his long strides forcing me to keep up as we walked along the roadside. My legs ached, and I was already exhausted.

I scoffed at his silence. Cayden's arrogance was getting out of hand. He had the audacity to drag me from work to God-knows-where, all because he claimed he had my money in cash and needed to give it to me before he spent it.

"Cayden," I called again, coming to a stop. He finally turned to face me and said,

"Chill the fuck out, Ortensia. This is the road to my new place, cupcake." He licked his lower lip, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a deep drag before exhaling the smoke into the air.

I hated that nickname. And I hated him even more for using it.

Growing up with a single mother, I had learned to fend for myself. Things only got worse when she married Cayden's father, another single parent. Unlike my mother, he and his son were reckless and irresponsible. I had worked my ass off to put myself through nursing school, determined not to be anything like them.

Lending Cayden money was my worst mistake. He had refused to pay me back for months, and I had nearly given up on ever getting it. So when he showed up at my workplace unannounced, claiming he finally had my money but only in cash, I had been skeptical. I wanted to question why he hadn't brought the money with him, but instead, I swallowed my doubts and followed him.

When we finally arrived at his so-called new place, my stomach twisted in disgust. The building looked worn-down, the walls tattered and the surroundings filthy. As soon as we stepped inside, the stench of alcohol and thick smoke hit my nostrils. It was suffocating.

I glanced around, my skin crawling. There was no way I could stay here a second longer than necessary. Then the door clicked shut behind me. I turned sharply to face Cayden.

"Just get my money. I need to leave," I said, hugging myself.

He smirked. "You always act like the most righteous person, Ortensia. You see me and my father as dirt." He took another drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the floor and stomping it out.

I rolled my eyes. I had no idea where that nonsense was coming from, but I wasn't about to entertain it.

"Get me my fucking money, Cayden, and stop talking shit. I don't have time for this." A sudden knock on the door made me freeze.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, my chest twisting with unease.

Cayden didn't answer. Instead, he opened the door, and five men walked in. My heart pounded as I instinctively stepped back. The second they were all inside, Cayden locked the door behind them.

Something felt off. My instincts screamed at me to leave.

"I'll take my leave now. We'll talk later," I said quickly, turning toward the door.

But Cayden stepped in front of me, blocking my way, his smirk widened. That infuriating look he always gave me.

"She's dope," one of the men said, his eyes raking over me in a way that made my skin crawl.

Then another added, "She'll make us some fresh money."

I stiffened, my breath hitching.

"What the hell is going on here, Cayden?" I asked, clutching my bag tightly against my body.

"The truth is… I'm selling you off," Cayden said bluntly, without a shred of remorse.

At first, I thought it was some kind of sick joke. But then I looked at the men around us and saw tattoos covering their arms, their cold, unreadable expressions, and that was when I realized that they were gang members and Cayden wasn't lying.

He had tricked me and lied about having my money just so I would follow him here to this filthy, rundown house he claimed was his new place. But it wasn't a home but a trap. And I had walked right into it.

"Stop this, Cayden!" I begged, my voice trembling.

But instead of guilt, I saw irritation flash across his face.

"Shut the fuck up, Ortensia," he snapped. "I'm drowning in fucking debt, okay? You think you're the only one I owe? I owe a lot of people, and selling you off is the only way out. So you better cooperate. Debt collectors don't take excuses, Ortensia.But they do take girls."

I stared at him in disbelief, my chest tightening. He was really doing this. He was selling me off to pay his debts. I hated him more than I ever thought possible.

"Her coochie is still fresh and untouched," Cayden added, his voice laced with greed. "She'll make good money."

Before I could even process those words, one of the men pulled out a handkerchief and poured something onto it. My stomach clenched. I knew what that was, it was chloroform.

"No…" I thrashed, trying to break free, but they were too strong and their rough hands grabbed my arms, pinning me down so tightly I could barely move. The chemical-soaked cloth pressed against my nose and mouth, the sharp scent burning my nostrils.

I fought with all my power, kicked and scream but it was all in vain. Darkness swallowed me whole.

I woke up feeling numb. My body was stiff, my head pounding like a drum. And panic rushed through me as I realized…

My hands were tied, my legs were bound. And worst of all, a rough, hooded sack covered my face. I couldn't see anything. But I could hear chants, voices, the murmur of a crowd. And the stench of sweat, smoke, and something rotting made me want to gag.

Then, a woman's voice rang out, loud and confident.

"Our item is going for 10 million. Let the bidding begin."

I froze. Bidding?

A sickening realization hit me… I was in an auction house and I was being sold.

"15 million."

"17 million."

"20 million."

Silence.

Then, the auctioneer's voice rang again. "20 million going once… going twice…"

I held my breath, my pulse racing.

And then, just as she was about to close the sale, a deep, commanding voice cut through the air.

"40 million."