Erika

Laila dragged me out of the suite by my forearm as we all walked toward the main gate. I struggled to keep up in my heels, trying not to trip while matching her brisk pace. Suddenly, she came to an abrupt halt, indicating that we had arrived at the entrance. I lifted my gaze from my feet and saw three black limousines waiting for us. I noticed many girls like me, appearing to be from all over the world.

They were all dressed in pale white frocks similar to mine, with black collars bearing the 'V' symbol fastened around their necks. We waited in the driveway to board the cars.

There were thirty in total, including Laila and me. Vincent hurried forward, instructing his men to load the girls into the last two limousines. His men obeyed immediately, all armed.

Vincent then pulled me toward the first limousine, gripping my forearm tightly, with Laila trailing close behind, her jealousy unmistakable.

Once the three of us were settled in the car, Laila handed me a wooden box. Inside, I found two collars identical to those worn by the other girls.

My temper flared. I clenched my teeth and shot Laila a glare. She proudly grabbed a collar and fastened it around her neck.

She even offered me her hand to clamp the collar on; with Vincent’s eyes on us, I had no choice but to comply.

I kept repeating endure it—endure it in my head while forcing a fake smile.

"You’re doing great," Vincent said, noting my lack of hesitation. I returned his compliment with my most insincere smile.

After an hour of driving, the vehicle stopped at the driveway of a seven-star hotel. A servant in an expensive uniform opened the door, and we all exited.

The building was massive and breathtaking. We were all in awe of the surroundings. Yet, thirty girls and eleven armed men standing on the patio created a chaotic scene.

A team of fifteen employees and their manager greeted us. The manager directed us to our assigned suite, which faced away from the main building.

Laila organized the girls and men into six teams. Soon, we were assigned an expensive suite.

"Be careful with her. I don’t want any problems. I’ll meet with clients and try to close some deals. I’m not only pimp here, there are many this year," Vincent warned Laila before leaving the room.

On my way to the suite earlier, I noticed many other girls in similar situations, each accompanied by different pimps, including Vincent. Our suites were a safe distance from the main building.

After a while, Vincent called Laila through the suite intercom. She nodded like a loyal dog on the phone and then led the first team out.

"Be respectful and obedient to all men, even if they ask you to strip," she instructed sternly before sending them out.

Team by team, the other groups left the suite, until only the last team remained—me, Laila, and three other girls.

My anxiety grew with each passing moment. The other girls’ expressions mirrored my own.

Laila, however, smiled broadly, her grin irritatingly wide. I was on the verge of snapping at her.

Before any sharp words escaped, the intercom rang again. I knew it was our turn. My hands grew cold, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

What if I am sold this time?

What if that man rapes me before I get a chance to escape?

Maybe today is my last day on Earth...

Assumptions swirled turbulently in my mind, heightening my nerves.

Laila led us toward the main building, with four armed guards following closely.

She knew every twist and turn of the place like the back of her hand—which did not surprise me. She had clearly attended countless banquets like this and had even pleased some of Vincent’s clients.

We finally arrived at a magnificent ballroom. The area was crowded with bodyguards, all heavily armed.

Security was tighter here than around the president. I noticed the presence of dangerous dog breeds—Pitbull Terriers and German Shepherds—patrolling the area, their watchful eyes scanning relentlessly. It made me uncomfortable and curious at the same time.

"A large number of gang leaders, politicians, and powerful military officers are attending today’s banquet. Nobody dares reject the invention of a MAFIA KING. That’s why Vincent is so anxious today, Erika. You know the rules—if a slave makes a mistake, the charge is on their master. So be on your best behavior," Laila whispered in my ear softly as we queued for inspection.

They searched us thoroughly for weapons, pills, or any suspicious items using metal detectors and manual pat-downs.

Moments later, we were cleared and led into the royal ballroom.

From the expensive marble floors to the luxurious chandeliers, every detail screamed wealth. The aroma of delicious food made my mouth water—something I hadn’t experienced in ages, making it even harder to resist.

Laila led us upstairs to a relatively large ballroom. The mahogany double doors could not block out the sounds of laughter and conversation.

Laila knocked on the door with a specific code. A gunman opened it and let us in.

The sight inside the banquet hall shook the ground beneath my feet, and fear trembled through my heart.

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