Chapter 2
"I'll take her."
Those four words hit the room like a bomb. I heard the owner suck in a sharp breath, and even that asshole client went completely silent. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might actually explode.
"Buy her?" the owner stammered. "You mean..."
"Her and whatever's in her belly. Name your price." His voice was scary calm, like he was discussing the weather instead of buying a human being.
This isn't happening. This can't be happening.
Just as the owner was about to respond, more footsteps echoed down the hallway. Two people this time, one walking super quietly like they were trying not to be noticed.
"Looks like I'm right on time."
Another familiar voice. Another regular. This one always sounded like money – like his words were dipped in cash.
"If you're buying her, I'll pay double."
The first guy – the politician – let out this cold laugh. "Richard, you want in on this too?"
"Just business, Congressman Harris. You can't be the only one who needs the perfect family image."
Oh God, they know each other. This is getting worse.
Then chaos. Running footsteps, heavy breathing, someone stumbling down the hall like they were drunk or desperate.
"Wait! Wait!"
The voice I dreaded most. This guy was always broke, always wasted, and had this nasty habit of getting rough when things didn't go his way.
"I want to buy her too! The kid in her belly – I want it!"
The room went dead silent except for my racing heartbeat. Three men, all staring at me like I was some prize they could win. I pressed myself further into the corner, feeling like prey surrounded by predators.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" The owner's voice was practically shaking with excitement. "Since everyone's interested, why don't we make this fair? A little competition?"
I could literally hear him rubbing his hands together. Like Christmas morning for a greedy asshole.
"Ten thousand," the politician said.
"Twenty," the rich guy countered.
"I can do twenty-five! Plus my family trust fund!" The drunk one sounded desperate.
They're putting price tags on me and my baby. Like we're cattle at an auction.
I wanted to scream, to run, but my body felt frozen. All I could do was sit there while they haggled over me.
"I'm a city council candidate," the politician said, his voice getting colder. "I can give her legal status, give that kid a real future." He paused. "And I have the power to make uncooperative people... disappear."
"Fifty thousand cash, plus a house," the rich guy shot back. "My offer's more practical than your threats. And Tom, what do you think your campaign rivals would do with this little story?"
The drunk guy completely lost it. "You're both full of shit! I saw her first! I don't care how much money you have – I'll burn this whole place down before I let you take what's mine!"
I heard metal clanking. Oh fuck, he's got a weapon.
"Enough." The politician's voice went ice cold. "Richard, you want to fight me? One phone call and health services shuts this place down tomorrow." His attention shifted. "And you," he said to the owner, "how long do you think your little operation lasts in my district?"
The rich guy went quiet for a few seconds, then actually laughed. "Alright, Tom. You win. Politics beats money, apparently."
"Smart choice," the politician said with this satisfied tone that made my skin crawl.
The drunk guy tried to say something else, but the politician just looked at him. "You should leave. While I'm still feeling generous."
He stumbled out, cursing and ranting, but I could tell he wasn't done. Not even close.
My fate just got decided. To them, I'm just merchandise, and my baby's the bonus feature.
I touched my belly, trying to send some kind of message to the tiny life inside. I'm sorry, baby. Mommy couldn't protect you.
"So we're agreed," the politician said, walking over to me. "Leah, you're coming with me. From now on, you work for my future."
"I need the perfect family image. Your kid becomes my heir, and you become my wife."
Behind him, the rich guy sighed. "Hope you know what you're getting into, Tom."
Someone helped me stand up – my legs felt like jelly. As we walked down the hallway, I heard the politician talking to his assistant: "Get the media ready. We're doing photos tomorrow."
I just got sold from one hell to another. This one just comes with political spin.
As we headed toward what sounded like an expensive car, I caught the sound of footsteps following us. The drunk guy was still lurking around somewhere, and something told me the rich guy wasn't giving up either.