The other woman stopped tugging at Eliana's pants and hurried to lift her fallen companion.
Eliana went to grab them both but froze when she felt the coarse bite of rope digging into her wrists. Her hands were tied fast.
Damn it. Where the hell was this? She had gone to sleep at her adoptive mother's place... so how had she ended up here?
Her gaze darted around her surroundings. Rotting walls closed her in, a rusted latch sealed the door, and a single thread of daylight trickled from a cracked window high on the wall.
The plump woman, now standing with help, snapped at Eliana, "You filthy brat! I should break your jaw for that kick!"
She raised her hand to strike, but the other woman caught her wrist. "Don't touch her face. She's worth thirty grand, and a pretty face will fetch us double."
A slow breath hissed through the plump woman's teeth as she lowered her arm. "We gave her enough tranquilizer to knock out a horse. I don't know how she woke up so quickly. Whatever. At least she's awake for the check."
Eliana narrowed her eyes and asked, "What check are you talking about?"
"You're worth thirty grand, and we need to check if you're still a virgin," the plump woman replied.
Eliana's stomach turned. These lunatics wanted to see if she was a virgin? Ridiculous! They had no idea who they were dealing with. She wasn't some street rat they could drag around.
Back in Eighvale City, Eliana ruled the black market, and a single word from her could topple anyone foolish enough to cross her.
Eliana let out a cold laugh, her sharp eyes gleaming as she worked to free herself from the rope, while stalling for time. "Thirty grand? Who are you people?"
Her trip to Udrerton Village had been nothing but a waste. She'd dropped everything in Eighvale when word came that her adoptive mother, Janessa Holt, was gravely ill. The reality? It was a mild cold.
She had planned to leave the very next morning. Instead, she'd woken up tied to a chair in a rotting shed.
The plump woman bent down, clamped a hand around Eliana's ankle, and said with a smirk, "Janessa sold you to us. Play along, and we might land you a decent man. Refuse, and we'll toss you to some lonely old man who'll take anything he can get."
"You're telling me Janessa sold me to you?" said Eliana, her voice edged with disbelief, as if the woman had just told her the most ridiculous joke she'd ever heard.
She'd been three years old when Janessa plucked her off the side of a dusty road. From that day on, she was paraded as the "adopted daughter", though everyone knew she was really being groomed to marry Neal Holt, Janessa's son.
Her earliest memories were of endless chores, scraped hands, and exhaustion that weighed heavily on her bones.
Determined to escape, she'd learned every skill she could get her hands on. By twelve, she had the means to walk away, and she never returned.
Still, she hadn't erased the debt she felt for the roof she'd been given.
Each month on the first, she sent Janessa a sum of money. The total she had given her adoptive mother by now could have bought several prime real estate properties in any major city.
She had only shown up now because she believed Janessa was on her last breath, eager to slip in one final visit.
The truth was uglier than she'd ever imagined-Janessa hadn't softened. She'd sold her for thirty grand like she was a piece of livestock.
Now, Eliana realized why Janessa had suddenly greeted her with smiles and warm words upon her arrival.
She had believed, foolishly, that the woman had changed. In reality, Janessa had just been luring her into a trap.
Eliana's subordinates had warned her not to set foot in Udrerton. She should have listened, because the Holts hadn't sprouted a single decent soul.
Every muscle in Eliana's body worked toward the same goal. The ropes strained, her fingers clawed at the knots, and freedom was almost within reach.
She drew in a long breath, her tone dripping with disbelief as she said, "You're out of your mind. Janessa would never sell me. I'm supposed to be Neal's wife."
One of the women laughed and asked, "Neal's wife? You've been gone too long to keep up. He's about to marry the daughter of a corporate giant. His family is rolling in money now. What would he want with you?"
Tightening her grip around Eliana's ankle, the other woman barked, "Quit squirming and spread your legs! We have to confirm you're still a virgin. If you're not, we won't pay the rest. Don't even think about resisting. If we end up breaking your hymen by accident, you'll be the one paying the price."
A slow, dangerous smile spread across Eliana's face. "Let's find out who's really going to pay the price!"
In that instant, the rope slipped free from her wrists. She lunged, catching the plump woman by the throat and lifting her into the air.
The woman writhed in panic, yet her fingers couldn't pry Eliana's grip loose. Color drained from her face, replaced by a deep red flush. Her lips darkened toward a chilling shade of blue.
The other woman lunged toward them, but Eliana snapped a kick into her side without missing a beat.
The blow sent the woman crashing into the wall, and a wet cough sprayed blood across her chin.
Even through the pain, she found her voice and screamed, "Somebody! Help us!"
Two strong men stormed through the doorway, each wielding a club. They swung at Eliana without hesitation.
She tossed the plump woman aside and snatched both clubs in midair, her hands moving faster than they could follow.
The men froze, startled by her speed.
They didn't have time to recover before Eliana's kicks sent them sprawling to the floor, limbs twisted and motionless.
Right then, the plump woman Eliana had tossed aside earlier crept toward her, thinking she had the upper hand.
Her plan failed instantly. The moment she came close enough, Eliana turned around and struck her with a swift blow from a flying club, dropping her cold.
Ten minutes later, Eliana stepped out of the burning shed, squinting as the fierce sunlight stabbed at her eyes.
She lifted a hand to block the glare, brushing off the faint, panicked shouts coming from inside.
Not once did she look back. Her focus was locked on the Holts' residence ahead.
Human traffickers weren't worth pity, and she had no intention of giving them any.
And after this, the Holts would answer for everything.
Her steps quickened when voices echoed across the distance.
"Fire! Somebody get water!"
The flames had drawn villagers, who came running with buckets sloshing water.
Wrapped in the stolen coat of one of the women, Eliana kept her head lowered and slipped past the crowd, moving against their frantic flow.
It wasn't long before she reached the Holts' home.
One kick sent the wooden door clattering to the floor, dust exploding into the air.
But the moment she stepped inside, she realized the place was empty.
"They sure knew how to run," she muttered, a thin smile curling her lips.
It didn't matter where they thought they could hide. She would track them down to the last corner of the earth.
Whatever debt she'd once owed was long gone, and now it was time to settle the score. Neither Janessa nor Neal would walk away unscathed.
With her expression hard as stone, Eliana stormed into her childhood room-a suffocating room carved from a storage closet, heavy with heat and the stench of mold.
Sure enough, both the small bag she had brought back and the phone she kept hidden beneath her pillow had vanished. Inside that bag had been nothing worth stealing-only her driver's license.
Even so, losing it meant getting back to Eighvale would be far more troublesome.
Eliana brushed the thought aside. She figured she could find a phone in town and call her people to come pick her up.
Her hand was on the door when a set of rapid footsteps pounded toward the house from outside.
A crease formed on her brow before her lips curved into a sharp smile. It had to be the Holts, back sooner than she expected.
Her eyes swept the room. She spotted a sickle leaning against the wall behind the door and wrapped her fingers around its handle before stepping outside.
The figure waiting beyond the doorway wasn't anyone from the Holt family. A young man stood there, maybe in his twenties, a stranger to her eyes.
His suit hung in tatters, mud crusted on his cheeks, hair wild from the wind. A rusty bicycle leaned on its stand behind him.
Keeping the sickle hidden against her side, Eliana asked, "Who exactly are you here for?"
The man turned around, startled, and froze when he saw her face.
When his eyes landed on her, they went wide. She saw the disbelief hit him, then the emotion that followed-tears rolling down his grime-streaked cheeks.
"Lia! It's really you! Lia!" he shouted, charging toward Eliana like crazy.
He halted suddenly, stopping half a meter away as Eliana held the sickle aimed at him.
One more move and it would cut across his throat.