Sold By Her Husband

How would you feel if you worked your butt off for two years, working from 4 in the morning to 10 in the evening to tirelessly support your husband in his career, only to end up getting sold by him in return? Like cow dung dug up and smeared all over your face! That's how Shamsiya felt right now. Like a smelly piece of shit people were too sickened by to keep within reach, Nick sold her off to a stranger to pay off his gambling debt. Shockingly enough, the bastard wasn't even ashamed. He had the cheek to say to her face that he had the right to do whatever he wanted with her because he was her husband! "I am not your property! You can't sell me off like an object!" Shamsiya screamed, throwing the vase in her hand. The bastard dodged and snarled. "You bitch! How dare you throw a vase at me? You should be grateful I married an orphan like you!" Not to be outdone, he lunged at her and kicked her in the stomach, causing her to double over and groan. He rained down punches on her hunch

Shamsiya felt insulted. But on a second thought, what right did she have to feel insulted? She was now only a property."Well, what are you waiting for? Strip!"The cold command snapped her back to her senses and sent shivers down her spine. She trembled and tightened her grip on her wrist, refusing to budge. She kept chanting in her mind that she was now a property, a usable, disposable object. A bought good. She shouldn't have any scruples, any reservations, any objections to being treated like one. And most importantly, she couldn't keep the Demon Lord waiting!"Oh? Still not moving?"Apparently, the one hovering over her figure was done waiting. Shamsiya shrieked in alarm and pain as a large hand clamped around her arm and dragged her to the bed, before roughly throwing her on the wide mattress. The rebounding force knocked the breath out of her lungs."Don't...don't come here..." She stuttered and scrambled forward, before turning on her back to plea. "Please...don't touch me..

Was she afraid of death? No, if she was, then she wouldn't have dealt such a fatal blow to herself. Then he must've been too frightening.No...if he was, she wouldn't have dared to laugh in his face...Iblis paced around the pool of blood, his crimson-dark orbs fixated on the woman as he internally mused to himself. Hours had passed since the servants left, but there was no news of their return. He found himself growing increasingly restless as the night deepened.Insolent woman! Foolish woman!"Bold woman, since you dared to challenge me, don't even think about dying so easily!" Iblis hunched down and forcefully gripped her chin, hissing in her blood smeared face with a vengeful edge. He was so riled up that he didn't even notice the blood foam seeping into his body through his pores."When my servants return with the dragon's heart blood, I'll show you the consequences of going against me!" Loosening his grip, he rose back to his feet, and resumed his pacing.Another hour passed, a

The dungeon was an underground jail-like cell built on the back side of Jabril Palace. It was dark, damp, and smelt foul, embodying the misery and hopelessness of the days after the world war. The loud, boisterous sound of intense quarrels and curses entered her ears before her eyes adjusted to the darkness.And when it did, Shamsiya felt a sinister chill slither down her spine at what she saw."This...what the hell is this!?"Earlier when she heard the word Lawless from Iblis Jabril's mouth, she had an inkling of what was waiting for her, and prepared her heart for the worse.Or so she thought.However, at this moment, she realized no preparation would be enough to prepare her for the desperate battle awaiting her.Unaware of her shaken mentality, or just not caring, the squad of servants led her through the dungeon, which immediately fell silent at their appearance, and roughly shoved her in the darkest cell on the farthest corner.With a bang, she was locked in the cage."Woman, yo

The Ballroom Hall was decorated in white and pink flowers. A giant crystal chandelier swayed in the center of the room, showering a resplendence of radiance and blue petals on the guests below."Damn! Who is the whore lucky enough to marry the Demon Lord? Is she the princess of the Fae?""I heard she was pregnant. Knowing his desperation for a child, the Demon Lord might just marry her.""No, no, you're all wrong. I heard from a palace servant close to my cousin that the Fae Princess miscarried. This woman is a purchased good.""Purchased good!? Fuck! Who's the slut!?"Separated in groups of threes and fours, the female guests huddled together. The shrieks of disbelief and venomous denial couldn't be suppressed even under the threatening glares of their mates as they animatedly exchanged gossip.Seated on bronze chairs a few feet below the wedding dais, the mistresses of the Demon Lord exchanged inscrutable glances and sweet smiles."Lady Irene, you've known our master for 200 years.