I woke up in a cage. Cold metal bars surrounded me, and the only clothing I had was a set of tattered rags—an insult from my former owner, a mockery of dignity. The air was stale, thick with the scent of dust and something far worse. On the floor of the cage lay a pair of red underwear, deliberately placed there—waiting.

I refused to touch them.

Time passed in suffocating silence until heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. Two tall men appeared, their expressions void of sympathy. I lashed out, kicking, clawing, screaming—but it meant nothing. Their hands were iron, their patience nonexistent. With brutal efficiency, they stripped me and forced the garments onto me, ignoring my defiance as if I were nothing more than an object.

Then they dragged me through dimly lit corridors, past thick wooden doors and shadowy figures. The air carried a sickening blend of wealth and depravity. A voice droned in the distance, smooth and practiced, accompanied by the rhythmic strike of a gavel. Something was being sold. Something valuable—something human.

Then I stepped into the light.

Rows of noble elites in elaborate masks sat before me, each holding numbered signs, their movements composed yet eager. The bidding began.

"Two million dollars." The hammer struck. "Five million." Another strike.

The numbers climbed, figures too staggering for my mind to grasp. And then, just as an aging man in an ornate mask seemed poised to claim his prize, a new voice cut through the air.

"Twenty million dollars."

Silence followed. Then—Bang! Sold.

The same men pulled me away, shoving me back into the cold confinement of the cage. But this time, someone else followed. A woman.

She removed her mask, revealing sharp eyes and a face untouched by fear.

"What are you doing? She’s terrified."

The men hesitated. The woman stepped forward, unfastening her coat and draping it over my trembling shoulders.

"Let’s go. The driver is waiting. I’m taking you home."