**Welcome, Mr. Kuiro.**
For reasons I couldn't explain, I didn't like the man sitting before us. The entire environment sent chills down my spine, filling me with unease.
My father sat opposite him, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Ah, Loren, long time no see. How have you been?"
I stood there, feeling out of place as they exchanged pleasantries. My stomach churned.
Something's wrong.
The neckless stuffed man glanced at me before turning back to my father, his expression unreadable. "Loren, I have an offer for you," my father began, suddenly serious.
"Dear, have a seat," the man offered, flashing me a smile that sent a shiver down my spine. I awkwardly sat down, his intense gaze burning into me.
After a long silence, my father cleared his throat. "So, the deal. Is it on or not?"
What deal? And why were they being so secretive?
Loren chuckled, stuffing a large donut into his mouth. "Hmm, yes. The deal is on. Very beautiful. We strike in four days, mate."
Confusion settled deep within me, but I knew better than to ask questions.
As we left, the man called out to me. "Here, take this."
He handed me a chocolate bar. I nodded, accepting it hesitantly before thanking him.
The ride back to hell was quiet—except for when my father stopped to buy two flower bouquets.
"Daddy!" Anamis shrieked as we stepped inside. I remained behind them, trying to disappear into the shadows.
After their family reunion, my mother's gaze flickered between my father and me. "Is it done?" she asked eagerly.
Anamis turned to look at me.
"Yes, the deal is set."
Their faces twisted into delighted grins before they walked away, leaving me standing there, drowning in confusion.
***
"Mira, what do you think they're smirking about?"
She stopped cutting flowers and looked at me, concern evident in her eyes. "Ely, dear, I don't know. But I hope you're safe."
She was right. *I should hope for the best.*
But did I ever mention that Anamis was Lucifer in the flesh?
Right now, after everything that had happened, she was using me as her personal rag. "Shut up and keep scrubbing," she thundered, pressing her foot harder against my hand, causing my fingers to turn red.
"You filthy peasant will soon be gone," she spat, laughing hysterically.
*Gone?* What does she mean?
"Oh my God!" she gasped, and the maids around her echoed her reaction.
I followed their gaze and my heart plummeted. A single drop of water had landed on her trousers.
I knew it then and there—*I was done.*
Two maids harshly grabbed my arms. "I-I'm sorry! Please, please forgive m—"
Before I could finish my plea, a loud slap echoed through the room.
Pain seared through my cheek, and tears spilled freely. Anamis yanked me up by my hair. "Get Dante and Sébastien. And bring the whip."
My breathing turned ragged. *Oh God, oh God, what have I done?*
I begged. I pleaded. But it was all useless. She dragged me to the backyard by my hair, flinging me against the hard ground. My ribs slammed into the cold earth.
"AHHHH!" A scream tore from my throat involuntarily.
"Tie her up," she ordered.
I barely had time to register what was happening before I found myself bound against the large coconut tree in the middle of the yard.
Anamis took the whip from Dante, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. "You must learn never to defile your master."
And then, the first strike landed.
The sharp nails at the end of the whip tore into my skin like I was an animal being butchered.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!"
An ear-piercing scream ripped from my lungs.
Anamis beamed with joy, like it was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. The lashes came again. And again. *And again.*
Strike after strike, my skin tore open, some blows landing on already exposed wounds. My body convulsed in agony.
After what felt like an eternity, she handed the whip to Dante. "Take over. Don't stop until I say so."
His strikes were stronger, faster, each one leaving a searing imprint of pain.
Two hours passed. At some point, I stopped screaming. Stopped crying. My vision blurred, my body trembling violently. My arms and legs hung limply in their restraints. Blood trickled down my body, soaking into the earth beneath me.
"Stop," she finally commanded.
Sébastien, who had taken over from Dante, dropped the whip.
"Untie her."
The moment the restraints loosened, I collapsed. I couldn't move. The tree behind me was stained with blood, and so was the grass beneath me.
The spikes from the carpet grass pricked at my torn flesh, intensifying the pain.
"Take her back. No food for her tonight," she ordered before walking away.
"Yes, ma'am," they answered in unison before dragging me back to the basement.
The heavy door shut behind me, and I was left alone in the damp, stinking darkness.
**Why?**
Why was I even born?
Sobs racked my body, my breath coming in short gasps. My chest tightened painfully, and in seconds, I was struggling to breathe. My whole body shivered uncontrollably.
Everything was blurry.
Sweat dripped down my face. My insides burned. The overwhelming emotions and pain sent me spiraling into a full-blown panic attack.
I forced myself up, hands shaking as I pressed them against the cold wall to steady myself. **Breathe, Ely. Just breathe.**
Then, I slammed my head against it.
Once.
Twice.
Blood trickled down my forehead, but the pain didn't register anymore. The dizziness set in fast, and soon, everything faded into darkness.