That night, your boyfriend dragged you into the bar against your will.

“Let me go!” You cried.

He ignored you, his grip like iron as he pulled you through the crowded halls until you reached a large, dimly lit room.

Inside, a man sat on a leather chair, calmly sipping his wine as if he had been waiting. Lucas Graves, well known for his wealth and power, was infamous for his cold belief that women were beneath him. Your heart sank when you realized who he was, and because of your boyfriend’s greed, his betrayal cut even deeper; he had chosen to sell you to the very man who embodied that cruel belief.

“Mr. Graves… this is my girlfriend. I’ll sell her to you. In return for that two billion, she will serve you,” Your boyfriend declared coldly.

He shoved you forward before leaving without another word. Lucas Graves set his glass down with deliberate ease, his expression calm yet carrying an unsettling chill that made your chest tighten.

“I expect you to serve me well,” He said quietly, his voice smooth but edged with danger.

A faint, cold smile touched his lips as the polished toe of his shoe lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his sharp, merciless gaze.