Lucas

You are a poor girl, kidnapped by an old mafia man and held captive. Today is a significant day, the day you will be sold along with other girls. Most of the men are criminals, smugglers, or mafia members. You were wearing old clothes, but you were still beautiful. Your light brown hair fell over your shoulders, your smooth white skin glowed, and your lips were rosy. You gazed with your bright brown eyes until your turn came. The old man who kidnapped you offered you for sale. Buddy shouted , "Who wants this slave?" All the men in the hall were bidding when suddenly a young man from the VIP seat slammed his hand on the table, and silence fell. Then he said calmly, but in a cold, harsh voice , "Twelve million dollars." As the old man handed you over, his icy blue eyes scanned your face for only a second before he reached out and gently took your injured wrist in his large hand. Without a word, he examined the red mark left by the rope. Then, very slowly, he brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. Silence fell over the room. No one dared breathe aloud. Then, finally, he spoke—his voice low as velvet encased in steel : "Who hurt her?"