5. Maya
MAYA
Two hours earlier…
In the pitch-darkness of the room I’m being held in, I can make out next to nothing. I feel around, trying to make sense of where I am and what’s going on here, but God knows I’m as lost as when I first arrived.
I’ve been trying to string the pieces together ever since I woke up.
I can recall being on the phone, having the pregnancy confirmed, and then ducking down that side street to catch my breath, only for the same man who came after me before to close the distance between us and force something into my system.
There’s a foul, bitter taste at the back of my throat, and I’m parched, sickness roiling in my guts—though that might be more due to the fear than anything else.
I know that Artem must be behind this. He’s the only one who would ever dare try and pull something like this off, and I’m certain it’s revenge for daring to turn my back on him before.
Before I can think on it any further, the door swings open before me, and I lift my hand to block the blinding light that pours in. But, even as my eyes adjust to the shock, I hear a voice I recognize at once.
“Enjoying your new quarters, Maya?”
It’s Artem. I don’t even dare to look up at him. Now that there’s some light in the room, it seems like this place is part of the bar. I can see a few stacks of beer at the far side of the room, the same kinds we serve.
But… What the hell is going on?
“Let me go, Artem, please,” I beg him desperately. “I just... I need to get out of here. I don’t want to—”
“You’re not going anywhere, Maya,” he replies, his voice laced with a twisted amusement. “I’ve already given you far more freedom than you deserve. And now... Well, now, you’re going to make yourself worthwhile to me.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand, though I’m not sure I actually want to hear the answer. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for a response, staring at him and chewing my lip, praying that he’ll see sense and stop this before it goes any further.
He stoops down in front of me, reaching out to take my chin in his hand. His touch burns my skin, and I want to pull away, but I know it would be pointless. He’s in total control here, and he wants me to know it, in no uncertain terms.
“You really don’t know what’s been going on at the bar?” he asks me, a mocking tone to his voice.
“Artem, I have no idea what you mean,” I tell him, and he finally lets go, releasing me at last. I hurry to the back of the room, putting as much distance between myself at the man before me as possible.
“You will,” he replies, simply. “There’s plenty of men waiting to meet you, Maya. And I’m sure you’re going to make one of them very happy.”
The sickness claws its way up my throat, and I try to fight the urge to cry. “What does that mean?” I plead with him. “Artem, I don’t understand...”
“There are plenty of men in this city who would pay good money to have a girl like you,” he continues calmly. “And I intend to give them the chance to show that tonight. You’ll be put up for auction. And if nobody ends up paying enough for you...”
He moves closer to me once more, shoving his face close to mine, a cruel grin on his face. “Then you’re going to be mine, Maya. Like you always should have been.”
He straightens up as the words settle into my mind, my head spinning as I do my best to make sense of them. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I can’t decide if I’m going to pass out or throw up or burst into tears.
“Artem, just let me go now, please,” I call after him, as he heads for the door. “I won’t tell anyone about this, nobody has to know...”
He pauses, looking back at me for a moment, that grin on his face again. “Nobody will know,” he agrees. “But trust me, Maya. This has to happen.”
And with that, he closes the door, and the tears finally begin to course down my face as I make sense of what is about to happen to me.
This can’t be real. It can’t be. Auctioning off women? Is that how this place has been staying open, on the backs of girls who have no other choice?
The thought of that happening right under my feet, just out of sight, where I have been a part of it without even knowing it... Fuck, it is enough to make me feel like I deserve this, for not being more aware of what was going on in this place.
Maybe it was always going to end this way for me, sold off to men as revenge for whatever Artem feels like I have done to him.
I don’t know how much more time passes before the door opens again, but I’m starting to grow weary and hungry by the time a guard returns to demand that I come out.
“Come on,” he barks at me. “You’re needed on stage.”
“Please don’t do this,” I beg him, as I rise to my feet, trying to appeal to what little humanity I’m sure is left in him. “You can just let me go now, tell Artem I ran away and got out, I won’t rat you out—”
The guard’s face is unchanged. Whatever Artem has told him about me, it’s obvious that he believes I’m right where I deserve to be.
“With me,” he repeats himself. “Now.”
I see no other choice but to go through with this, at least for now. If I can get out of this room, then I might be able to escape through some side door or something. Anything is better than being locked away in that cell...
Well… Maybe not anything.
I can’t stop thinking about what will happen if Artem really does put me up for auction, and what that means once I’m bought. I’m not that na?ve.
The guard grabs my arm again and tugs me forward, shaking his head.
“Can’t you move any faster?” he grunts, and I stumble as I try to keep up with him.
Every step I take, I feel like I’m walking towards a fate that I’ll never recover from, a sick, monstrous feeling starting to get the better of me.
What was it Artem said? That if he didn’t get the bids he wants on me, he would take me for himself?
I press my lips together to fight back tears, not wanting to look weak in front of the guard.
I can’t let them see a crack in my armor right now, not if I’m going to get through this alive.
Men like this, they look for weakness, and I can’t allow them to see an inch of it to exploit.
Suddenly, I find myself standing behind a large curtain, adjacent to what seems to be a stage.
I peer out, trying to get a look at what I’m in for, but I can’t see much.
There appears to be a large, wooden platform sitting in front of me, and beyond it, a room that is darkened, no doubt to disguise the identity of the men who have attended this evening.
I can smell alcohol in the air, hear the clink of glasses, and it strikes me that, for so many of these men, this is nothing more than an entertaining night out. Seeing a girl like me sold off, her freedom stripped from her as though it never meant a damn thing, is fun for them.
And these are the men who are going to be bidding on my life. My future.
Without thinking, I try to push past the guard and get back to the room I was being held in, or find a way out, or something. My instincts kick in and I want to put as much distance between myself and this place as possible.
But before I can, the guard closes his grip on me.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls, and I stare at him, eyes imploring, searching for the smallest slice of humanity. But there is none, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, because nobody who was capable of doing work like this would ever have had a shred of decency to their name.
And, before I can say another word, Artem appears behind me and steers me out on to the stage, his hand on the back of my neck as he forces me with him. My legs feel like jelly as I’m dragged along with him, and he snarls something in my ear before we step out on to the stage.
“You try to ask for help, and I’ll put a bullet in you,” he grunts to me, and then he plasters a smile on his face and steps on to the stage. His words sear into my mind, harsh, brutal. I’m nothing more than a piece of meat to him now, and he is intent on making sure I know it.
“Gentleman,” he announces, as he steps out on to the stage, but I can’t make out the rest of what he says to them, because my ears are ringing so violently I’m nearly deaf.
A light glares down at me from above, so intense that it blocks the view of the men in front of me. They are there, I’m sure of it, I can see glimpses of them here and there—expensive suits, hands wrapped around drinks, watching me like I’m a circus act they’re drinking in the sight of.
And then, just as soon as I’ve made sense of this, the bidding begins. My body seizes with terror as Artem shoves me towards the front of the stage again, making sure I’m entirely visible to everyone around them.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he mutters to me, lowering his mouth to my ear. “You don’t want to look down. Some of them get off on that...”
I almost want to spit back at him that he is one of those men, one of those bastards who so clearly enjoys seeing a woman with no way out of the situation he has trapped her in, but it would do nothing.
I’m distantly aware of the bids coming in, starting at twenty thousand, one man’s voice claiming me, then another, then...
“A million.”
For a moment, I think I must have heard it wrong. Because there is no way—there is no way someone would pay that kind of money for me. I know men like this must be willing to throw all kinds of cash around to get what they want, but I just feel like I can’t possibly demand that high a price...
And it seems as though I’m not the only one in the room who is shocked to hear that number come out of someone’s mouth. The place is silent for a second, and I sneak a look at Artem, wondering if this is what he expected.
His eyes are impossible to read as he stares out into the crowd, trying to figure out who has laid down such an offer, but he eventually calls to see if there is anyone else willing to meet it, and is met with silence.
“Sold!” he calls out, and he turns to me, eyes flashing with black humor.
“Looks like you’ve found your new man,” he tells me.
If I didn’t know better, I could have sworn that he was jealous, realizing that I had been sold off to someone else.
No doubt he had been hoping I would be left with no choice to be stuck with him again.
I don’t know if it is better or worse that someone else has stepped up to the plate instead, but I guess I’m going to find out.
I feel numb as he leads me through the back, barking orders to his guards as he goes. He pours himself a drink and vanishes into the back room as the guard who took me from my cell pulls me towards a back door.
I trip over my own feet as I struggle to keep up. The world seems to slow around me for a second, my last few seconds of freedom stretching out before me as if my mind is attempting to make the most of them while it still can...
And then, the door opens, and I’m pushed outside.
“The payment’s made,” a voice announces. A voice, it hits me, that I’ve heard before. The guard nods and shoves me a few steps forward.
“Say hello to your new owner,” he tells me.
And, as I force myself to look up, I find myself faced with him—the man who bought me, the man who has taken my freedom, the man who decided I was worth a million dollars. The man who is willing to engage with a dark world like this one to land a woman, no matter what cost it comes at to her.
And a man, much to my shock, that I already know.
The man who saved me from the attacker at my apartment. The father of my child, even if he doesn’t know it yet. And now...
Now, my captor, whether I like it or not.