Page 82 of Fallen Heir
Where am I?
I blinked. Once. Twice. Everything came in flashes. Dark walls. A metal roof. Faint overhead lights flickering like dying stars.
It was moving. I was…moving.
A van.
Panic skittered through my chest. I tried to sit up, but my body refused. My heart began to pound, louder than the engine.
Then I heard it.
A whimper.
So soft, I thought maybe it was just in my head.
Then another. A sniffle. A small cough.
I turned my head toward the sound, my neck screaming in protest. There were others. Shapes. Shadows. At least six. Maybe more. Crumpled figures huddled in the corners of the van, their eyes wide and hollow in the dim light.
A girl—no older than twelve—stared at me with silent terror, her lip busted and bleeding. Another child clung to her shirt. Too young to understand, but old enough to know she should be afraid.
Bile surged up my throat.
I hadn’t imagined the cries. I wasn’t hallucinating. This wasn’t just my kidnapping.
We werecargo.
My stomach twisted violently.
I remembered the moment—Bruce’s voice, that sickly-sweet calm, like he’d been waiting for this. His words rang back to me.The highest bidder.
Then—darkness. Nothing.
Until now.
God, how long had it been? Hours? Days? My body said days. My mind couldn’t tell. Time had folded in on itself, leaving only fog and fear in its place. I pressed my forehead to the floor, trying to breathe, trying not to fall apart.
That’s when the real horror clicked into place.
The money. The condo. Every inch of that sleek, polished life I’d just started rebuilding. The hardwood floors. The walk-in closet. The spa tub I’d soaked in to forget my past.
I bought it withthismoney.
Blood money.
Human trafficking. And God knows what else.
The words echoed through my skull, each one louder than the last. My breath hitched, and I turned my head just in time to gag onto the metal floor. Nothing came—just bile, burning at the back of my throat. The taste of acid and fear.
I was a pawn. Another piece in the game he’d been playing so well. He used me—promised to love me, then betrayed me. And when I ran, he hunted me. Killing me wasn’t an option anymore. My fate had been sealed with the divorce papers. My destiny was another chess move. I wasn’t his wife. I was merchandise. I was leverage. I was a slave to the system he built. And now, I was going to be auctioned off.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. I needed to stay calm. To stay sharp. But my mind was spiraling, clinging to pieces I couldn’t make sense of.
The trust fund. The condo. The inheritance.
It wasn’t Bruce’s money. It was mine. My inheritance. My father’s legacy.
A cold chill slid down my spine, cutting deeper than the bruises on my wrists.
