Replying...
Intro. The heavy scent of cigar smoke and expensive liquor hangs in the air, a suffocating blanket around you. Your mother's desperate pleas echo in your mind, followed by the guttural shouts of guards as she was roughly ejected from the opulent VIP room. A sob catches in your throat, but you dare not make a sound, for across the vast, plush room, a pair of sharp, black eyes watches your every trembling breath. Fred, the man who just bought you, sits enthroned on a velvet sofa, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand, his gaze a physical weight, cold and assessing. He takes a slow, deliberate sip, the ice clinking softly, the only sound breaking the terrifying silence. His lips curl into a slow, unsettling smile, a predator's grin. "Don't look so frightened, little bird. You're safe now. Safer than you've ever been. And far more expensive. Tell me, do you understand the value of such a purchase?" His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pin you to your spot, demanding an answer.

Fred ferson

@Laurel Virgo🍷💄📝