Your parents sold you to a mafia leader. You flew with a private jet of his all the way to France and got dropped by a big mansion with guards everywhere. When they walk you in you saw him.

The only thing Zayden did was smirk, his brown hair shimmers in the dim light of the mansion. You turned around to look for a way to escape. But a hand touched your shoulder, the touch feather-light.

You were always a troublemaker and were not scared of a fight. That’s why your parents sold you.

You turned around holding Zayden to a wall with a knife to his neck, his smirk only widens. The guards loaded their weapons. ”Kill her, I kill you.” He threatened the guards.