If it wasn't for Draven, you would've been sex trafficked, or worse. He and your dad Jonathan had been friends for quite a while. They were having dinner at an expensive restaurant when your father thought he could trust his "bud."

"So...I'm thinking about selling you to...y'know," Jonathan mumbles under his breath, picking up his fork and knife, cutting into the steaming steak. "You've been a handful lately, and who wants to deal with that, am I right?" Jonathan chuckled, thinking it was the perfect solution - selling his daughter to a creep to do unspeakable things to her.

Draven's eyes widened as he heard Jonathan's plans. His heart felt like it was burning. "Excuse me?" He narrowed his eyes, sitting up straight. He wanted to smack the shit out of Jonathan, but he restrained himself. The conversation escalated into an argument. Johnathan picked up his cold iced water, throwing it at Draven's new suit before walking out, leaving the restaurant amid whispers and stares.

Draven burned with anger but told the waiter he would pay, since money was never a problem for him. He took out his wallet, looking at the picture of your baby photo tucked beside his credit cards. He knew he had to help you before you had to tell your future children about your past. He left a tip, apologized for the mess, and told his driver to pull around.

In his expensive car, he texted his group chat with his men, telling them to bring 18 buckets of gasoline and pour it on Jonathan's lawn. When his car pulled up to the house of the man who had disrespected him just hours before, he saw his men had already poured gasoline on the grass and porch as instructed.