Chapter 1

• Mey’s POV
• "All thanks to the price he agreed to pay, we got you a beautiful wedding dress. All you have to do is be a good girl and make me proud. Do you understand?"
• I didn’t understand a thing.
• Not then, not even now, after putting two and two together.
• Three years ago, on my wedding day, my father left me at the altar, not in the way most fathers did, with a kiss on the cheek and teary-eyed pride. No, he handed me over like a business transaction, gifting me to a man I barely knew. A man who promised million-dollar wealth but turned my life into hell.
• Had he really sold me off like a commodity at an auction?
• What did I do wrong? I had spent my life obeying his every command, striving to be the perfect daughter he wanted. But none of it mattered. In the end, I was nothing more than a mistake, a burden he was all too eager to trade away.
• Now, three years later, I stood at the dining table, ensuring the breakfast was perfectly arranged. I cross-checked and double-checked, desperate to avoid another punishment. Moments later, Justin descended the stairs, his presence consuming the space. He didn’t spare me a glance as he took his usual seat at the head of the table.
• Justin Miller.
• My husband.
• The man who owned me.
• He always carries an aura of power that sends shivers down my spine, and makes my heart sink in the most painful way.
• “What in the absolute fuck is this?”
• Justin’s cold voice snapped through my thoughts, “Have you lost your mind?”
• Startled, I glanced toward the source of his fury: the coffee.
• “I... I made it the way you like it...”
• Here we go again.
• “The hell you did. Is there anything you can fucking do besides showcase your dumbass?” He slammed his hand on the table. His raised voice makes me flinch.
• Instinctively, my hand went to my neck which he had forcefully gripped last night, almost squeezing the life out of me. The bruise was still there. He then fucked my throat as a punishment for calling Amy, my childhood and only friend.
• We've been married for three excruciating years and I should have grown accustomed to being treated as a mere possession that was sold to him by my father, a mere object for his pleasure, rather than his wife, but I couldn't. My heart still raced with every glance from him, every command, every gesture, everything that had to do with him.
• My husband had forced me to take various lessons, all designed to turn me into a presentable "merchandise" for higher society. I was groomed, both personally and sexually, and taught about wine and fine dining etiquette, languages, and conversational skills. The art of flirting effectively, using my body language, tone, and conversation skills to manipulate those around me wasn't left out.
• My every move was monitored and critiqued by Justin's watchful eyes, but thankfully, my natural beauty and quick wit made me a rapid learner and in no time, I had adapted to my new role as the perfect trophy wife with ease.
• "I'm sorry, it will never happen again."
• "You know, that's the problem," He started saying and rose to his feet. "You are just as worthless as your father, that is why he didn't think twice about using you as a debt settlement."
• Again, I didn't respond, instead, I lowered my head to avoid meeting his cold gaze.
• "You're just lucky I'm in a good mood today."
• Was all he said before walking away.
• I finish my meal with my head down, then clear the table. We have no maids; I take care of everything here. Afterward, I have yet dancing lessons to attend. I’m so tired, sick, and heartbroken that sometimes I wish the ground would swallow me whole. I wish I had never existed, or at least that I’d never had a father so cruel he could abandon me to the worst man alive.
• Now, I was trapped, with no escape from the prison he had built for me.
• *****
• A FEW HOURS LATER...
• NIGHT
• A sudden, piercing ring from the telephone startled me awake, my heart thudding against my chest.
• With a sigh, I glanced at the device. Damn thing. At least it wasn’t Justin, slamming the door and charging toward me.
• He’d ordered me never to answer unless it was him or his secretary. But the phone kept ringing, like a ghost howling in the night, and the sound was creeping me out. Swallowing my anxiety, I picked it up to see who was calling.
• My heart stopped when I saw the caller ID, it was his secretary!
• I had let it ring more than thrice and could only envisage the slow process of death when Justin came home. Quickly picking up the phone, I nervously connected it to my ear. "He... Hello?"
• "Mrs Miller?"
• "Yes?" Bile clogged my throat as I responded. "I'm sorry for keeping you..."
• "Your husband, Mr Miller got involved in a ghastly accident. As we speak, he's in a very terrible condition."
• Silence.
• "This is a matter of life and death, Ma'am." He continued, his voice hoarse. "I'm afraid he might not be able to make it. If you could make it down—"
• I stared in catatonic stupor at the telephone that had slipped out of my hand. The faint echoes of "Hello? Are you there?" Should bring my attention back to the secretary, but it didn't.
• Justin was involved in an accident...
• It was a matter of life and death...
• The words kept repeating in my head as I stood, frozen to the spot. Without any more words, I placed the telephone back where it belonged, cutting connections.
• For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
• Could this be the answer to my prayers? My one chance to escape being Justin’s captive? A tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest, and I found myself moving before I fully realized what I was doing.
• I had no idea where I was going or what would happen next.
• Only that I had to act right now.