Chapter 4 Laura

Contentment enveloped me. I have never been happier in a long time, so even though this joy was mixed with fear, I was grateful for every moment of it. A man with long hair that hung over his shoulders and a mustache on his face followed me through the entire validation process. Getting sold off also followed a process. They coerced me into signing a ton of dangerous documents that, if I broke any of the terms, would endanger my life.

When we first met the man referred to himself as my master's underling, but he never gave out his name. I understood why, though. In this place, people were not addressed by their names. Names were kept under wraps.

I'd shot him a thousand glances, wondering if his stern face could ever soften. His severe expression gave the impression that he was angry on the inside.

Everything about him, including the way he spoke to me and the looks he shot me, was cold. Did I offend him in his dream to make him regard me with so much hatred?

My master's underling guided me to the parking space. We stood near a car which by its opulence I discerned it was my master's. He got a call and excused himself, urging me to remain where I was.

Soon after he left, I puffed a heavy sigh of relief. I hadn't realized that his presence suffocated me to this great extent until now.

I smiled, meshing my hands together as I remembered I was about to leave this place for good.

My excitement was dashed as another thought of that stranger as my master crossed my mind. My face briefly turned pale from fear. I gave a headshake. No. It wasn't him. I hoped my entire body concurred with my assertion that it was not him.

I took my time soaking in the beauty of the car, trying to shake off any negative energy eating me up. I circled the car, appreciating every detail of it, my heels clicking as I walked. I even noted the name of it. Thanks to Mikhailov, we slaves could read and write. However, I was an exception. I was surprised to find that I had always been literate.

What an incredible luxury this car was. Were wealthy people from another world?

I was trying to take a quick look inside the car while I was back where the underling had asked me to be when I heard a deep voice behind me say, "Pretty."

With a gasp of fear, I whirled around abruptly and met the gray-headed, 6'6" muscular frame directly in front of me. His eyes as he stared at me held something I'd call... amorous. His expression was menacing; I had the impression that, if he had the slightest opportunity, he'd tear my dress to pieces and impose himself on me.

Who was...

I was distracted from my thoughts when it became clear who he was. My eyes widened, my breath caught, and my chest grew tight at the realization. That three-piece, light brown suit he was wearing. The gray in his hair and on his face. That disgusting smile made my skin crawl and my heart swell with distaste.

Oldie!

Perhaps, he couldn't handle the heat of losing in the auction, so he'd come here to douse it.

"You?"

"Yeah, me. You recognize me without a mask. Good job." He began taking slow steps closer to me. I took a few steps backward, not realizing I'd neared the car until my back collided with it. I gasped in fear.

"What do you want from me, Oldie?"

"Oldie?" He threw his head back and barked a laugh like I just told a joke. "This Oldie can do things even the young can't. I can take care of you. Shower you with my love, and luxury. Give you everything a lady wants, forget you're a slave. I can do that. And this Oldie can..." He stooped. "Fuck you really hard and make you scream in a violent, mind-blowing orgasm."

I tensed up at his nasty words, my face turning pale. What a nasty sick old man.

"What's going on here?"

Beside us came the sound of a rough voice, veiled in pent-up rage. Our gaze simultaneously shot to the furious figure several paces away from us.

I let out a gasp and instinctively shifted my feet from where I was standing. Shock and terror rushed through me.

The stranger!

The sight of him had nearly knocked the air out of me. Despite my legs flailing in a flight reflex, my muscles tensed up with fear and I froze in place. What was he doing...

My eyes came down to the wristwatch on his wrist. It was him. His hairstyle was even the same as the golden mask bidder's. My thoughts were spot on. The stranger was the golden mask bidder.

My heart rate and level of fear increased slightly, and I became aware that my expression had taken a terrified quality. Even my wide eyes gave away my fear.

It was odd how, upon realizing that my master was the stranger I feared, a part of me burst into excitement. Now, anxiety and an odd thrill were interfering.

"Move the fuck away from my slave." My master's brow knitted and his nose flared in fury.

"I forbid you to say that to my hearing. What does a devil need a slave for? The last time I checked, the things a devil could offer to anyone is death, destruction."

Oldie was being poetic now, but I still saw meaning in his words.

Once more, he bent down and held my face in his palm. "She's too pretty to be the devil's slave."

My master's eyes darkened further and the height of anger manifesting in his eyes started seeming like it could make him propel a car three blocks away. My anxiety surged, making me uneasy and inexplicably concerned for Oldie. It felt like my master would do the unthinkable if Oldie didn't leave.

"Get. Away. From her. And disappear." Despite his aggravation, he managed to sound composed, though there was a hint of rage in his tone.

As soon as he finished speaking, the underling reached into his coat as though he was reaching for something.

Oldie backed away, tossing up his hands in a playful surrender.

"All right, I will step aside."

With long strides, my master and his underling approached. The underling opened the other side of the passenger door to let my master in. Afterward, "Get in the car," he said coldly.

Get into the car with this stranger? My heartbeat kicked out of rhythm. I was hesitant, and my fingers twitched. I forced down the lump that was growing in my throat as I watched the underling get into the vehicle. I'd know better than to keep standing there.

But what if I had the wrong impression about the stranger? What if he wasn't who I expected him to be? What if he was not who Oldie had made him out to be? Perhaps that moment we met in the backyard, he wasn't in a good headspace so he acted out.

I opened the door, let myself through, and shut it. The cold air mixed with pleasant scents that saturated the car wafted through my nostrils as I settled in.

Ever since the drive, my master had been quiet, acting as though I was invisible. He didn't even bother to look at me. Was he mad at me? I was afraid to do anything to cheer him up, but maybe he would have preferred to remain that way to contain his rage.

Lights flickered in the corner of my vision, making me look out the closed tinted window. The breathtaking view of the town left my mouth hanging open in shock. I grinned broadly as I savored the sight of the lovely street, the buildings, the people going about their daily lives, and everything else that caught my attention. The day my fake father took me to Mikhailov is when I last laid eyes on this stunning vista.

I was living in a state of blissful indulgence. I would return to this wonderful world.

"Laura. Laura. Laura."

His voice seeped into my ears, drawing my attention away from the sight I was taking in. That was the first words he'd said since we got into the car. The girl he was talking to on the phone was special, whoever she was.

I felt a sensation on my head like something was slowly and stealthily slipping into my hair and meshing with it. It was not until he pulled my hair and turned me to face him that I realized what was going on. My head hurt from his tight hold and the force that made me think my hair would fall out. Shutting my eyes, I groaned, then whimpering.

His free hand tightened its grip around my face, and his ferocious eyes locked onto mine. "So you have the guts, Laura, to pretend you lost your memory, even in my car? At my mercy?"

My heart pounded in my chest as terror smothered me, making it impossible for me to breathe. I felt waves of fear pass through me as his eyes turned bloodshot from rage, radiating danger and sinister. I started breathing heavily.

What was he saying? Why did he call me that name?

"P--p-" He tightened his grip on my face, his fingers digging into my flesh, pulling pain-ridden whimpers from me.

"You're trying to fool me, aren't you? You want me to believe that you've lost your memory, putting on an act just to cover up what happened on the night of your fifteenth birthday.

Seriously, what was he talking about? Was my master a psychopath, or was that just one of his ways of inflicting pain on others through emotionally manipulating and gaslighting them?

"Now throw the fucking pretense out the window, Laura, and tell me everything that happened on the night of your fifteenth birthday. He roared, his words leaking out through gritted teeth, "Tell me what happened to my consigliere Víctor."

I said, "Master, I do not know what you are talking about," as much as his hold on my face permitted.

A look of shock flickered across his face for a few seconds before disappearing completely. His hold on my face loosened. Silence swallowed the atmosphere, increasing by degrees. My frightened gaze locked onto his, my heavy breath breaking through the silence.

With a serene yet menacing tone, he said, "If only you knew you were playing with your demise," drawing his face closer to mine.

My heart leaped violently at his spine-tingling words.

His fingers skimmed over my face, and reaching my neck, he closed his hand around my throat, tightening his hold as if he intended to kill me with a chokehold.

I fought my instincts, trying not to forget my slave training and grapple with him. My clenched hands started loosening, my eyes rolling back into my head.

"When we get home, Laura, you'll know everything you claim you don't know. And you'll tell me everything, else."

As soon as his grip loosened around my neck and I drew in a long air into my lungs, something sharp as a needle pricked my nape, and in the next second, my breath went shallow and difficult, my vision getting blurry.

What did my master do to me? Tears welled up in my eyes. Could Oldie just be right about what he said of my master? Could what I believed to be true about my master be true? If my suspicious were accurate, my worst fear had just materialized.

Unconscious, I slumped onto the seat, and in a few seconds, the world went pitch-dark.