The Billionaire's Sex Slave

Caroline’s POV

I gripped the sharp knife as the crimson liquid dripped from it. I knelt on the floor, with tears streaming down my face. My heart sank as I watched the man I loved lying on the floor. I crave to touch him, but I can’t. I wished to kiss him, but disgust deepened. I despise him, but I loathe myself further.

I picked up the phone that rested on top of the drawer. Even though my hands are trembling, I even contend with dialing the ambulance station number. On the first ring, they answered the call.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Go to 2187 NYC Urban Calm, High town C. O Clark.”

I at once turned off the call and went to the second floor. Even with a bloodstain on my hand, I just kept packing. As soon as I’m done, I washed my hands and rushed out of the house.

I sprinted to the primary gate and hailed a taxi. Before entering, I peered repeatedly at the mansion that has been a significant part of my soul, stuffed me with fantasies, and made me feel I was not alone again.

But in just one paper I discovered and a photo I saw, it all collapsed. It was as if a serpent had wound me and was late to treat because it was deliberately poisoning me.

I just sobbed in the taxi. I looked again at the house I had stepped on before eventually determining to neglect everything.

“I’ll start again… but this moment, without you.”

***

“Authorities found out that the source of the deaths here was because of refusal. We asked some witnesses about the matter. They claimed that the citizens didn’t wish to go, and they created the outbreak themselves,” the commentator announced while holding a mic and with a focused camera.

I threw them a sharp glare with bloodshot eyes because of nonstop weeping. Most of them may have fought back, but that wasn’t enough reason to execute them! I closed my eyes and recalled what happened.

“We will provide you three months, thus you will require to leave this place unwillingly or willingly!” A man shouts with the construction helmet on his head. He might be the engineer or architect leading the project.

“How did that happen?! In a long moment, we have remained here, why now?” our neighbor fired back who was also afraid of losing her home because she was alone in life.

“It’s not our responsibility if you don’t have your land to build a home on. Go back to where you came from!” The engineer shouted again. None of us could speak because he was right. The government still does not give us the land we live in today. We are the communities that they call squatters because we cannot get our land.

The development workers and the guy we were speaking to had turned away, so we went back to our homes, also. “Mom, why can’t we just leave here? Let’s just find a house somewhere. I’m sure we can find a cheap place to rent and easily find a job too,” I suggested.

I’m Caroline Miller. I’m 22 years old and presently working part-time at a convenience store. I didn’t finish college because my mother and father were not getting enough money to pay for my school. But it’s still okay because I graduated from high school. I am an only child, and I’m giving everything I can to help my parents.

I snap back to my senses when my dad pointed out our problem, “We don’t have savings money to leave this place. If we move now, it will be a slow process before we’d get employed and paid off.”

In the pressures of life, dad was right. We didn’t finish high educational attainment, so the opportunities were elusive to us. I sighed and walked to the kitchen. I can’t argue. Even if I want to help them, I don’t know-how. It surprised me to hear footsteps following me. I was about to look when someone hugged me from behind.

“Just a little patience. We will make it and set up a house on our land,” my mother said and beamed.

“Let me take care of it, and I will find a way for us to get out of here. Come and let’s dine. I’m hungry. Aren’t you hungry too?” I asked.

Mom separate from the hug and laughed, “Come on! Your father and I have been hungry for a while because that engineer’s shout deafened us.” We chuckled, and laughter permeated our home.

Days, weeks, and months passed speedily. I heard the construction workers slowly setting up in our place the tools that will apply for the project they will do. We merely have a week and we’re going to be forced out. Other people have also revolted because they do not want to give up the land that in the first place is not ours.

When I got home, I check for my parents. I could not find them, so I went to the back of our house when I overheard them chatting.

“I don’t know where we will pick up in case they evict us from here. Do you have no one to touch on? At least we will simply stay at their house for a week. It is just preparation for us to find a new place to move and a job,” my mom whispered with a pleading voice.

“I tried to reach my old classmates and friends, but they didn’t agree,” my dad explained tiredly.

I left there and went into the house. I immediately picked up my small phone. It has a keypad and is hard to press. I still endured. I dial the name of one of my friends. She answered my call in just three rings.

“Hello, Celine? Are you busy today?”

“Not really. Why?” I could hear the noise in the background and the laughing people. Even it was embarrassing, given the situation. I said what is the reason for my calling.

“I would like to borrow money for our relocation expenses. I will pay as soon as I save up,” I said hopefully.

“Omg! I’m sorry Caroline. Even though I want to lend you, I don’t know-how. Now that I’m on vacation with my family, I can’t use my card to send you money,” Celine said hurriedly.

I heard someone calling to her in the background. She’s indeed on vacation now because she mentioned that to me.

“Okay. Thank y—” I would prefer to say adieu, but she then quickly cut the line. I hugged my little phone and murmured to myself, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just try with my boss. He’ll help me for sure if I explain the situation.”

I am melancholy because I have no choice but to trust the little chance I have. I desire to be lucky at least once. I get to work early to catch up with my boss. Exact timing because he was about to go. I ran and shouted. “Boss! I have something to say! Wait a moment!” I dashed while carrying my perforated bag.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Our place is being demolish. We have to move place, but the problem is we don’t have money for expenses. I would like to ask if I can borrow. Just deduct the payment from my work fee.”

“Why didn’t you notify me right away? You know I will help you. As long as you work with me, I won’t hesitate to help you,” he responded and mess my hair. My eyes widened as he pulled out some money from his pocket and handed it to me. Overjoyed, I hugged him and jumped.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He left and turned his car. After my shift, my smile reached the sky. I decided to call my parents to say them the wonderful news, but no one responds. I thought maybe they were just busy with what they were doing... but I was wrong. The cheerful faces of my mother and father, who I expected to greet me, didn’t show up. What welcomed me was our ruined house, too much blood, and lifeless bodies of them. I tried to find someone to ask about what had happened, but I could hardly hear the cries of the family of the dead. I approached a construction worker and ripped off his clothes in a frenzy.

“I assumed we had a week to go before they permanently evicted us from here! What happened?!”

“Sorry ma’am but because of the uprising you caused, the landowner was furious. A few insurgents aimed to destroy the equipment that should have been operating for this project,” the man explained with a sympathetic face.

***

It’s been three days, it’s still been raining nonstop for two days. I’m even here, sitting in the house they destroyed, waiting for my parents and a smile that’s always welcome me every time I come home. The ambulance took them but I have not heard from the hospital after that. I was quietly sobbing and was enjoying the cold and dead rain when abruptly a foot stopped in front of me, wearing luminous black shoes. I thought the rain had stopped, but there was also a man holding an umbrella on my left side. I raised my eyes and saw the tall, blue-eyed man. His gaze was deep and expressionless. I lifted my head and saw four men wearing black tuxedos, including the one who holds the umbrella, surrounding the man in front of me. The man with blue eyes was wearing a blue tuxedo.

Because they paused in front of me, it scares me, so I asked, “W-why?”

When I heard the voice of the man wearing the blue tuxedo, the hair on my skin rose. It was cold and deep. It is also perfect and every word always seems to have a stain of anger.

“Take her.”

“H—huh?”