Page 2 of Sold to the Investor

As we exit our run-down apartment building, I see a black vehicle with tinted windows idling at the curb. “There it is,” Daryl says with a relieved smile. The passenger door flies open as we reach the car, and he pushes me into the seat. “I’ll see you later, buttercup.”

His dismissive tone puts my hackles back up, but before I can assess the meaning behind it, he turns to the driver, drawing my attention to the cold-faced man beside me.

“Just like we discussed, man,” Daryl says.

The driver nods and starts the car. I glance from him back to Daryl. “You’ll come for me tomorrow, right?” I ask hopefully.

Daryl nods in response. “I promise, Soph,” he says, then closes the door.

The car speeds off the curb the minute I fix the seat belt, sending my heart into overdrive. I clutch my hands, gripping them tightly as the car moves roughly down the narrow road where our tiny apartment complex is located.

All I can do now is hope and pray that Daryl keeps his word.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask the driver after a while.

No response.

I sigh softly, settling into the seat. I might as well gear up for what’s coming. Whoever it is that Daryl owes money, I hope he’sright that they don’t mean to hurt me, just hold me somewhere.I can handle this. It’s just a day.

The drive is longer than I anticipated, and I soon drift off to sleep. By the time I open my eyes, the car is pulling up in front of a huge stone building in the middle of nowhere.

How the heck did I fall asleep in such a situation?

Well, it’s no surprise after I worked all day cleaning houses only to get back home and wait up for Daryl. I’m tired to the bones.

The driver stops the car in what seems to be a parking lot full of all sorts of luxurious-looking vehicles. He gestures for me to get out. I comply, and he comes around to my side and fetches a phone from his front pocket. He makes a quick call, and soon a figure materializes from the shadows beyond the parking lot. He’s incredibly tall, with a thin scar that runs down to his chin from beneath his left eye.

“Did you confirm she’s a virgin?” the new man asks without glancing my way.

“Yeah,” the driver replies. “Her brother confirmed it.”

I blink from one man to the other in shock. What’s going on here? What does my virginity have to do with anything? And when did Daryl discuss my virginity with this man?

Just when I’m about to demand answers to the questions swirling in my head, the new man roughly grabs my arm, pulling me to his side. “I’ll take it from here,” he says, and the driver nods, returning to his car.

“W-who are you?” I ask, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. “What is this place?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts to pull me forward. I dig my heels into the ground, struggling against his hold. “Let me go!” I squeal, blinking back tears of frustration. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Who are you? Do you know my brother? Did he borrow money from you?”

“Shut the fuck up and come with me, girl!” he snaps, his grip on my wrist tightening.

A soft, menacing growl reaches my ears, and I snap my head in the direction of the sound. My gaze collides with a pair of dark eyes. Another man is stepping out of the darkness like an avenging angel, and the quiet intensity in his gaze pulls at me until he’s all I see. His shoulders are broad, and his chin is strong. Everything about him is strong, really. There’s an air of savagery around him that feels almost…protective. This man might be my only chance, and a bubble of hope rises within me.

“Help…” The word slips out of my mouth, and just when I’m about to scream it again at the top of my lungs, Scarface slams his hand over my mouth. Paying no attention to the man who I’d hoped might be my savior, he picks me up like a sack of potatoes and begins to carry me toward the door of what I now realize is a chapel. That tiny bubble of hope bursts.

He doesn’t put me down until we enter a dimly lit room. He dumps me unceremoniously on the ground, pointing toward a sheer curtain. “Go in there and change into something appropriate,” he orders gruffly.

“And what if I don’t?” I counter, glaring at him despite the growing fear in my guts.

His expression hardens and in a flash he pulls a gun from his pants and aims it at me. I freeze, staring at the gun in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Disobey me one more time and I’ll kill you, do you understand?” I nod in response, too terrified to utter a word. “Now, get the fuck in there and put on something appropriate,” he repeats, his tone deathly quiet this time. “And be fucking fast about it.”

I nod hurriedly, scampering over to the curtain. I quickly take my clothes off and grab the first piece of clothing on the rack of options, a short black dress with a plunging neckline. I put it on and select red heels from the pile of shoes in the corner.

“Now, come on,” Scarface says impatiently as I walk out from behind the curtain. He moves ahead of me out of the room and I hurry after him, my heart pounding hard with every step.

What exactly has Daryl gotten me into?

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