Chapter 2 Forced Nude Photos

[Sera]

My childish hope shattered in an instant. I wasn't being welcomed home; I was being called in as a transaction.

I felt my momentary joy crumbling. "Father, I... I don't want to marry someone I don't love. I can't imagine spending my life with a stranger just for business." I took a deep breath. "Besides, I got accepted to the architecture program at the university. Full scholarship. I can help rebuild our family's construction company with actual skills and knowledge. I've always had a talent for design—my portfolio got me that scholarship. I want to contribute in a meaningful way."

His expression hardened. "Love? You think marriage is about love?" He scoffed. "Such childish notions. This isn't about what you want." He waved dismissively at the mention of my acceptance letter. "And what exactly do you think a little girl with some sketches can do for a failing construction empire? Design pretty dollhouses?"

"I'm not a little girl anymore! I can learn the business, modernize our approach. The industry is changing, and we need to—"

"Enough!" he snapped. "What we need is capital and connections, not your juvenile ambitions. You think you can waltz in with a college degree and save us? Don't be ridiculous. Be grateful I found you a purpose that's actually within your capabilities."

Something defiant sparked in my eyes. "I won't do it," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I won't marry some stranger. I'll run away—you can't catch me. None of you can!"

His expression turned ice cold. He shifted his gaze to Harold and Meredith, who had been standing tensely behind me throughout the call.

"Did you hear that?" he said, his voice deadly calm. "She thinks she can run." He leaned forward slightly. "I need her delivered to my driver tomorrow afternoon, completely unharmed. Not a scratch on her. Can you handle that, or do I need to find more competent guardians?"

Harold straightened immediately. "Of course, Mr. Ginger. We'll make sure—"

"Good. There's an extra ten thousand in it for you if she arrives exactly as she should." His eyes never left their faces. "But if she so much as gets a bruise trying to escape on your watch, you'll be explaining it to me personally."

The threat in his voice made even Harold pale.

"Someone will pick her up tomorrow at 3 PM sharp. Prepare her accordingly."

The video call ended, leaving the room in heavy silence. I looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring down at me—predatory, calculating. Like wolves circling their prey.

I scrambled backward, my heart hammering. "Stay away from me!"

Harold stepped forward with rope in his hands. "Now don't make this difficult—"

I grabbed the nearest thing I could find—a heavy textbook from my desk—and hurled it at his head. He ducked, cursing, as I reached for anything else within range. A lamp, my alarm clock, a picture frame—anything to keep them at bay.

"Little bitch!" Zack lunged forward, catching my wrist as I swung a hairbrush at him. Harold grabbed my other arm, and together they wrestled me toward the bed despite my thrashing and kicking.

"Get off me! Let go!" I screamed, but Zack clamped a hand over my mouth while Harold worked to tie my hands behind my back.

Just as Harold was securing the rope around my ankles, Meredith held up a hand. "Wait," she said, her eyes glittering with malice. "What if she gets married and decides to come after us later? What if she tells her new husband how we treated her all these years?"

She paused, a cruel smile spreading across her face. "Didn't you hear what her father said? Her future husband cares very much about purity. So we should take some... insurance photos. Make sure she never dares to speak against us."

Zack's eyes lit up with excitement, his breathing becoming heavier. "Oh, I like this idea," he said, licking his lips. "Finally getting to see what I've been waiting for."

Harold caught on immediately, pulling out his phone with a predatory grin. "Smart thinking, Meredith. One more thing before we finish tying you up..." he said, the camera already open.

Before I could react, Meredith lunged forward and grabbed the collar of my worn-out pajama shirt. "Take it off. Now." Her voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument, her fingers digging into the fabric.

I backed away in horror, my heart pounding in my chest. "No—please!" My voice cracked, desperation flooding through me as I pressed myself against the wall, clutching the edge of my shirt like it was a lifeline.

Harold's face twisted into a sneer, the phone still aimed at me. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, girl. We're just taking a few pictures. But if you ever tell anyone we mistreated you," he threatened, his tone low and menacing, "these photos will be everywhere. You'll regret opening your mouth."

"Let me help," Zack said eagerly, his hands reaching for the hem of my shirt from the other side. "I've been waiting so long for this."

Meredith stepped closer, her grip tightening as she yanked at my collar while Zack pulled from below, forcing buttons to pop off. "Hold still," she snapped, her nails scratching my skin as I tried to twist away between their grasping hands. I could feel the cold air on my shoulders as the fabric started to give, my arms trembling as I fought against both of them. Tears burned in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I could still see Zack's hungry expression and the cruel satisfaction on Meredith's face as they worked together to expose me.

"Stop fighting," Harold barked, adjusting the phone for a better angle. The flash went off once, twice, each burst of light making me flinch as if it were a physical blow. My stomach churned with shame and fear, every click of the camera searing itself into my memory. I wanted to scream, to push them away, but my body felt frozen, trapped under the weight of their control.

"Remember, we're your loving foster parents," Meredith hissed, her voice dripping with venom as she finally stepped back, satisfied with the damage done. "You've been very happy here. Understand?" She smoothed her hair, her fake smile creeping back as if nothing had happened, while I stood there shaking, pulling the torn fabric of my shirt back over my shoulders.

Harold lowered the phone, giving me a final, chilling look. "Keep quiet, and this stays between us. One wrong word, and everyone sees these. And don't think you can just leave and forget about us either," he added, his eyes narrowing. "We're your family now. When we get old, you better not turn your back on us. We've invested in you, and we expect returns. Your father, your fancy new family—everyone will know what kind of ungrateful child you really are."

That night, bound to my bed, I clutched my mother's pendant and cried silently, the cold metal pressing into my palm. I'd never escape them, not really. These photos would always be there, their threats following me wherever I went.

But as the tears dried on my cheeks, something harder crystallized in my chest. Rage. Pure, burning hatred for the three monsters who had tormented me for years.

Tomorrow I would leave Harper Town forever—but I swore to myself it wouldn't be the end. No matter what it took, no matter who I had to marry or what connections I had to make, I would become strong enough to destroy them. They thought they owned me, thought they could use those photos to control me forever.