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CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
ZOEY
The room echoed with the woman's laughter, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. I watched, bewildered, as she continued to chuckle, as if my plight was nothing more than a dark comedy.
"What the hell is so funny?" I muttered to myself, wondering what fresh hell I had stumbled into.
She scoffed at my reference to being a guest. "Guest?" she exclaimed, as if the term was absurd. Another bout of laughter escaped her lips before she could compose herself enough to speak. "You're not a guest, darling. You're merchandise, and you're about to be sold."
My eyes widened in disbelief. Sold? What the hell did she mean? I had a sinking feeling that this nightmare was about to take an even darker turn.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice laced with a mix of confusion and trepidation.
She leaned in, her expression cold and calculating. "The big boss," she said with a mockingly sweet smile, "has no use for you anymore.
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