Aurora’s POV

My legs dragged on the streets, barely able to hold my weight as I reached my familiar neighborhood.

The cold night an clung to my skin, sending shivers down my spine as I finally reached home. My legs burned from running, my heart still hammering in my chest from the fear that had chased me through the darkened streets.

But this was my sanctuary–my escape from everything outside. My father may not have been the best man, but at least here, within these four walls, t would be safe. Or so I thought.

As soon as I pushed open the front door, an uneasy stillness settled in my gut. The stench of alcohol and stale smoke choked the air, and the murmur of voices slithered from the living room. My fingers tightened around the doorknob as I hesitated. Something was wrong.

Then I saw him. My father.

He was lounging on the stained couch, his face gaunt, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. Around him stood two–no, three–men, their ieyes /igleaming with something that made my stomach churn. Their attention was on my father, their voices pressing, demanding.

‘Where’s our money, old man?” one of them sneered, arms crossed over his chest. He was tall, broad, the type of man who looked like he’d broken people for fun.

My father chuckled bitterly, running a hand through his graying hair. “Come on now, boys,” he slurred. “You know I’m good for it. Just need a little more time.”

“Time’s up, another man snapped. “You’ve been dodging us for weeks. We need payment. Tonight.”

I took a step back, my breath shallow. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to hear this. But then, as if sensing my presence, one of them turned. His eyes raked over me, lingering, darkening. My stomach twisted.

That’s when I remembered—I was still wearing the same damn outfit from earlier. A short dressb, /btight, revealing too much of my legsb, /btoo much of my skinb. /bI had gone out hoping to disappear, but now, I felt utterly exposed.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The man closest to me grinned, nudging his friend. “Didn’t know you had such a pretty little thing in your house, old

manb. /b

I froze.

My father’s gaze flickered to me, and for a fleeting moment, I prayed–begged–silently that he would get up, that he would tell them to back off, that he would, for once, act like a father.

Instead, he leaned forward, rubbing his stubbled chin as if in deep thought. Then, to my absolute horror, he smirked. “Tell you what, he mused, looking at the men. “How about we settle things differently? Take her. Do whatever you want. Consider the debt paid.”

The air was sucked out of my lungs. “What?” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. My vision blurred, my hands clenched at my sides. Surely, I had

misheard him.

One of the men let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a deal,” he said, stepping towards me.

I staggered back, my body trembling. “You’re joking, bI /bgasped, my eyes snapping to my father, searching desperately for any sign of hesitation, any sign that he wasn’t serious. “Y–you can’t do this. I’m your daughterb! /bPlease!”

bHe /bscoffed. “And? You think that means something to me?” His voice was cold, detachedb, /bas if bI /bbwere /bnothing more than a piece of furniture being sold boff/b. “You’re useless to me otherwise. At least now, you’re worth something.”

My breath hitched. My own father was selling me off like some discarded trash.

‘No–no, you can’t!‘ I screamed, but it was toote.

Two of the men lunged at me.

Chapter b59 /b

*

I barely had time to react before they grabbed me, their hands like iron mps around my wrists. I thrashed, Picked, but they were stringer shoved me hard, and I crashed onto the living room floor with a strangled cry. Pain shot up my elbows as I hit the ground, bmy /bbreath kicked Dumm hungs.

“Let go of me! bI /bscreamed, twisting, fighting, but their grip was unrelenting.

I turned my head, eyes pleading, searching for any ounce of humanity in my father’s face.

But he only watched, silent.

And then, he turned away, ready to leave the house…ready to leave me in this hellhole.

The world shattered around me in ways I had never imagined possible. I had always known my father was cruel, had always felt the weight of his disappointment pressing down on me like an unbearable stone, but I had still hoped–still foolishly believed that there was something, anything, in his heart that might resemble love for me.

But as he stood there, looking down at me with nothing but disgust in his eyes, thest remnants of that childish hope crumbled into dust.

“Father…” I begged, onest time, as tears streamed down my cheeksb, /bbas /bthe menughed around me, the sound cruel and grating.

“Shut up, you bitch! You were never my daughter,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You are an abomination, a mistake that never should’ve bbeen /b

born.”

The words hit harder than any blow bever /bcould. I flinched, my breath catching in my throat as if he’d reached inside bmy /bchest and crushed my lungs bwith /bhis bare hands. It was one thing to suspect it, to feel it in the way he always looked at me like bI /bbwas /bnothing, but hearing it–hearing it so inly, so definitely -felt like a knife twisting deep into my gut.

My body trembled, shackled to the cold, unforgiving floor beneath me, my wrists raw from the way these men’s fingernails dug into my skinb. /bbI /bbwanted /bto scream, to cry, to beg, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. He had already made up his mind about me long ago.

He turned without another word, walking away bas /bif I wasn’t even worth a second nceb. /bbAs /bif I was nothing.

bChapter /bbComments /b

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