“Did you think you could run from me, doll? Or is this just your way of testing me?" After being abandoned by her family, being sold by her godmother was the last thing Iris Paulman expected. Raised in a church in a small town, Iris’s world was one filled with faith and innocence. But when her godmother put her up for sale to clear her pending debt, Irish life takes a drastic turn. What happens when ruthless mafia lord Damon Vyon decides to buy her?
View MoreIris's POVI walked out of the store, my face flushed as Damon guided me back to the car. His hand rested on the small of my back, sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't believe he made me strip in front of him to change into the clothes he bought for me. His words echoed in my mind, "Mine...you are mine."I didn't raise my head to look at him as he opened the car door, still holding the bag of clothes in his other hand. I didn't look up at his men again, either. They seemed to be everywhere, watching me with an unnerving intensity.As the car started moving, I tried to distract myself and calm down before I began thinking of how to escape, to run far away from this man. This man who wouldn't stop looking at me with his teasing eyes!My face turned red, and I looked down at what I was wearing. I hadn’t even paid attention when I put it on and left the store; I was too embarrassed by what he made me do. The dress was sky blue, soft, and puffy – probably the prettiest thing I'd ever
Damon’s PovI hadn't planned on visiting the black market so soon. These auctions usually bored me – fragile toys that broke too easily, like my last pet. Poor thing couldn't handle a single night with me. But Julian, my right hand had suggested we make an appearance, something about finding the right toy for me.Preposterous. I was never that sentimental. That gets you killed in my line of work."Sir," Julian's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "The auction's about to end. Should we head out?"I was about to agree when the auctioneer's voice caught my attention. "Lot 847, nineteen years old, untouched."Untouched.I turned back, my interest piqued. The girl on stage stood straight despite her nakedness, defiance burning in those ocean-blue eyes. Most were hunched, broken. But not this one. She seemed familiar too. “She's the one?”“Yes, Sir,” Julian responded. Ah, as I thought. “Do you think she's too early, Sir? Maybe a few more weeks?”This girl, Mimi's payment to me was brought
Iris's POVThey brought me to a massive mansion that looked like a girl's dormitory hidden deep in the forest, far from the city and any chance of escape. The men were silent throughout the journey and I wasn't in the mood to start a conversation with any of them. All I wanted to do was just survive this. Mimi's betrayal still stung me deeply and whenever I closed my eyes. All I could see was her cold face smiling back at me.I wanted to cry so badly, let the tears flow freely from my eyes while I cursed my parents for bringing me into this cold world.Revenge filled my mind and I swore to myself that I would make it through this. The men led me into the house and I soon discovered that I wasn't the only girl in the house. There were dozens of us from all over the world. Brought here for whatever reason you could think of.Some of them were refugees, fleeing their country, others had been lured here on the pretense of a better life. Whatever the reason was, it didn't matter. We were
Iris’s POVI always knew that Mimi Teresa liked me. Not loved, no, no. Just liked me, liked having me around and passing me off like one of her shiny little trinkets. That weird but fascinating thing she owned.Yes, that's how my godmother always saw me. Teresa Paulman or Mimi Teresa as I called her, mostly because she didn't want me to call her Mom as she believed she was still too young to be a mom—she’s 53, and I couldn't call her Aunt because, well I just never did. Well, she has been my godmother since I was six years old when my parents decided to abandon me on her doorstep. I can't remember why as it's been 13 years since then and I've been living with her ever since then. My name is Iris, Iris Paulman, I took Mimi's last name. Life wasn't always great or horrible either growing up with her. We lived in this fairly large but very old and somewhat empty apartment, in the slightly better part of Harlem. It had three rooms, all of them old and falling apart. One was mine, one
Iris’s POVI always knew that Mimi Teresa liked me. Not loved, no, no. Just liked me, liked having me around and passing me off like one of her shiny little trinkets. That weird but fascinating thing she owned.Yes, that's how my godmother always saw me. Teresa Paulman or Mimi Teresa as I called her, mostly because she didn't want me to call her Mom as she believed she was still too young to be a mom—she’s 53, and I couldn't call her Aunt because, well I just never did. Well, she has been my godmother since I was six years old when my parents decided to abandon me on her doorstep. I can't remember why as it's been 13 years since then and I've been living with her ever since then. My name is Iris, Iris Paulman, I took Mimi's last name. Life wasn't always great or horrible either growing up with her. We lived in this fairly large but very old and somewhat empty apartment, in the slightly better part of Harlem. It had three rooms, all of them old and falling apart. One was mine, one ...
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