Sold To My Killer Husband

Mila pov

It was my birthday on that day, and yeah, I was finally able to get out of the house and get rid of my abusive drunk father and horrible stepmother. I am completely clueless regarding the circumstances surrounding their wedding. I was aware that my mother had moved out of the house because she despised him and could no longer stand to be in the same place as him.

Therefore, it appears that she did not grant him the divorce!

On the other hand, I didn't really care all that much about this. The only thing I wanted more than anything was to get away from my miserable life and start over somewhere else. I wanted to start a new chapter in my life.

I had every intention of completing my senior year of high school with the goal of using the money that my mother had set aside for my college education, along with the support of my grandmother.

And thank God my dad was completely unaware of the existence of those funds! Before she left us a very long time ago, she came into my room and asked me to forgive her for abandoning me with my abusive father. She then departed.

And if I'm being completely honest, I couldn't say I blamed her one bit. Even though she was sick and didn't have much time left to live, he continued to beat the life out of her even though she was in a terminal stage of her illness. Throughout the relationship, he subjected her to mental, emotional, and physical abuse.

I was under the impression that I was significantly more powerful than she was and could keep my balance while facing him. On the other hand, I was only dreaming. As if the fact that my mother had left him was what prompted him to change his attitude toward me, which was negative. I was his prey, yes.

Despite this, my mother has abandoned me, but a part of me has always wished that we could be reunited someday in the future, provided that she hasn't passed away by then.

For me, it was just another day, but it was exciting because I was finally going to turn 18 and be able to do whatever I wanted. After some consideration, I chose to get an early start on the school day.

Going to school was indeed preferable to staying at home and toiling away as a slave; however, working as a maid in my home was incomparably worse than going to school. My stepmother was terrible, but she was still preferable to my biological father. This is the single most upsetting aspect of the situation.

Time spent in school. Although repeating the same classes year after year was tedious, I worked hard to achieve the highest possible grades to increase my chances of being accepted to a prestigious college or receiving a scholarship. In the end, most of my mother's financial legacy did not come in the form of a large inheritance. It's not even a million bucks! And I looked for a part-time job to help me rent a room elsewhere if I couldn't find a vacant room in the dorm later.

I had everything planned out, especially for the moment when my father began oddly touching me.

I was able to deal with beating, but I couldn't wait for my father to rape me because I couldn't stand the thought of it.

I scoured the area for Helen, my best friend, who was beautiful but had the name of an elderly woman.

When we were together, I would make fun of her that way. Yes, because I had so much freedom at school, I engaged in many extracurricular activities and behaved like a complete loon. As opposed to when I was at home, I was not restrained by handcuffs, and my mouth was not covered.

After wishing me a happy birthday and continuing to make the most of our day, she informed me that it was finally time for me to experience hell.

"Mila, happy birthday... So, tell me, what exactly do you have planned for that day of miracles?" She came up behind me and put her arms around my shoulders.

"run away." I gave her a wink, and although we laughed about it together, she was clearly worried about me. She was well aware of the fact that my father was not a morally upstanding individual, which meant that he posed a threat to my life. When I was younger, I frequently went to school with scrapes, bruises, broken bones, and sprained legs and arms. Nobody came to my rescue when I was in a lot of pain. NO ONE.

At home, my father constantly blamed me for almost everything, and the reason he blamed me the most was that my mother had left him, so getting punched in the face was something that happened on a daily basis and was completely normal.

Because it was my birthday, and I couldn't allow him to ruin the day for me, I did everything in my power to leave school and get home as quickly as possible.

As soon as I walked through the house's front door, I noticed my father standing by it, looking at me in a menacing manner as if he had been anticipating my arrival.

I paid him no attention and went to the kitchen, searching for something to eat. On the way, I looked around for my stepmother, but I couldn't find any sign of her. And when I realized that, I completely lost it.

He laughed loudly and exclaimed, "It's your fucking day, bitch!"

I rolled my eyes and asked my father with a groan, "Not today, please." I begged him.

But no way, he was already drunk like he always was by this time of the day. He pressed me against the wall and said, "Speak badly, and I will kill you." I was in danger because of his actions. And in response to the excruciating pain, I screamed.

"what could possibly go wrong?" I managed to stifle a breathless utterance while simultaneously attempting to keep myself composed and get to my feet.

He made a chilly statement while raising an eyebrow and saying, "When your mother left me, I almost spent every penny on drugs and alcohol, as well as red night with whores and this bitch upstairs. Therefore, to get back on the right track and stand firmly on my own two feet, I finally could purchase the nightclub of my dreams, but the money wasn't mine; rather, I had borrowed it from a wealthy businessman. After two years, it's finally time for him to collect his loan and the interest accrued on it." My father moved into a more intimate position next to me.

I took a shallow breath nervously, "I don't understand. Since you make a good living, you should give him the money he paid you back." I remarked in a non-confrontational manner.

My dad gave me a devilish grin and said, "yes, but why should I give him the money with interest if I have something else?!!"

I remained immobile while wracked my brain to make sense of what he was saying, but I could not draw any conclusions from his conundrum.

"Then you should give it to him!" I couldn't help but blurt it out.

He came at me with great haste, pinning me between his arms and his chest as he did so. "The answer is yes, and he agreed to it... So... from this point on, you belong to him."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I yelled and tried to shove my father away while he was holding onto me.

I tried everything I could think of to stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks, but I was helpless. He shouted in a completely disgraceful manner, "Do you believe that I was given the opportunity to choose? I care more about the money than I do about you, and he has indicated that he is interested in you."

"I despise you, and I despise you, I despise you... I HATE YOU. And thank god it's my birthday today, which means I'm finally eighteen and can leave your fucking house for good. I don't understand why you have such strong feelings of animosity toward me. I am your daughter, you fuckhead. Fuck you." I yelled at him while directing disgusted looks in his direction.

"You really ought to be thrilled about the fact that you are his... You are still unaware of the identity of that person at this time. And yes, I am more dedicated to my nightclub and the wealth it brings me than you. Because I didn't have much time, I wasn't able to fuck your ass as thoroughly as I used to fuck your mother's. This irritates me." As I was climbing the stairs, he hurled his foul and repulsive words at me, and with each word that came out of his mouth, I ran even faster to my room to pack my things and get out of the house.

After storming into my room, I quickly packed my belongings, used the key to lock the door, and then stormed out of the room, passing him on the way.

However, I was so dense that I didn't even notice that he didn't follow me or even try to stop me.

Because he knew what awaited me, he knew I had reached the age of eighteen. I was wrong about his intelligence; he wasn't as dim as I had imagined. Everything was according to his master plan.

I didn't give it a second thought that for financial gain, my father would ever consider selling me to another man. He didn't need any financial support. The problem is that he did it on purpose! I didn't give a rat's behind about whatever was going through his head because it was irrelevant to me. He was a crazy, filthy one who deserved to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

Additionally, the birthday gift that he gave was well received.

I quickly grabbed my cell phone and dialed the number for a taxi as the strange black car continued to block our gate. I had no idea what was happening when I was dragged to that black car, but as I screamed and struggled against the men who had a firm grip on me, they splashed something on my face, and I immediately blacked out and lost consciousness.