Arabella's Bargain

Arabella's POV

The taxi's tires crunched over the rock carport as it pulled up to our house. The recognizable sight carried a smile to my face. I was at last home.

The prospect of a birthday party holding up inside made my heart race. My dad had promised me a party to mark my seventeenth birthday, an achievement he constantly said was extraordinary.

I got out of the taxi and hauled my bag up the way, seeing the smooth dark vehicles left outside our home. It struck me as odd, however I dismissed it, figuring they may be visitors for my party.

As I moved toward the front door, the feeling of unease developed. The house was strangely calm. Pushing the door open, I was welcomed not by inflatables and chuckling but rather by a gathering of men in dull suits, their countenances harsh and garbled.

My heart sank. These were not visitors for a party. I traveled through the passage, my strides reverberating on the wooden floor. The air was thick with strain, and the men watched me with cold, evaluating eyes.

My heartbeat quickened as I advanced toward my dad's office, the source of muffled voices. The door was slightly open, and I looked inside. My dad sat behind his work area, his shoulders drooped and his face colorless. Opposite him was a man I had never seen, radiating a demeanor of power and fear. His presence appeared to drain the glow out of the room. His dim hair was slicked back, and his eyes, similar to shards of ice, were fixed on my dad.

"Arin, please, there should be another way,"

my dad argued, his voice shudder. The man, Arin, reclined in his seat, a ruthless grin playing all the rage.

"There is no other way," Arin answered, his voice as cold as his look.

"Your debts are significant, and they should be settled. Today."

My dad gulped hard, looking towards the door.

The fact that Arin saw me makes it scary then, at that point.

His eyes locked onto mine, and a chill ran down my spine. He enticed me inside with a relaxed flick of his wrist.

"Arabella," my dad stifled out, his voice scarcely in excess of a murmur.

"Come in, please." I ventured into the room, feeling the heaviness of the men's gazes. My dad stood, his eyes loaded up with a combination of guilt and gloom.

He looked older than I recalled, the lines all over his face etched deep with stress.

"What's happening, daddy?" I asked, my voice shaking. He took a full breath, his hands shudder as he went after mine.

"Arabella, this is Arin. He... he's here since I owe him a large chunk of money. Beyond what I can at any point reimburse."

I looked from my dad to Arin, disarray and fear winding in my stomach.

"What does this have to do with me?" Arin stood, his tall edge creating a long shaded area over the room.

"Your dad and I have agreed," he said, his voice totally lifeless.

"To settle his debts, you will accompany me."

My mind dashed, the words not completely soaking in.

"Accompany you? Your meaning could be a little more obvious."

Arin's eyes drilled into mine, relentless. "You will live with me and work for me. In return, your dad's debts will be cleared."

I drew back, the truth crashing down on me.

"You can't do this," I murmured, checking my dad out.

"Daddy, you can't allow this to happen."

Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed my hands.

"Please accept my apologies, Arabella. I don't have a choice. This is the only way."

Arin ventured nearer, his presence overpowering.

"You have a place with me now, you're mine" he said delicately, as though expressing a straightforward truth.

"Pack your things. We leave right away." A virus fear got comfortable my chest as I understood there was never a way out.

My dad had offered me to this man, and my life as far as I might be concerned was finished.

I went to my dad one final time, expecting some sign that this was just a bad dream, yet his crushed articulation told me everything. With shudder hands, I left his workplace to pack my things, the weight of my new reality pushing down on me.

As I traveled through the house, the home I had known and cherished, I felt like a ghost, tormented by the existence I was abandoning.

The men in suits observed quietly as I accumulated my possessions. At the point when I got back to the parlor, Arin was waiting.

Without a word, he drove me to one of the dark vehicles. I looked back at my dad, remaining at the door, his face carved with distress.

"Goodbye, daddy," I murmured, trusting he could hear the absolution in my voice.

I moved into the vehicle, and as it pulled away, I felt a piece of me bite the dust.

My seventeenth birthday had turned into the day I was sold, a day that marked the end of my previous life and the start of an unsure, terrifying future. As we drove away, Arin's eyes flicked to me, and I realized I was no longer Arabella the little girl, the understudy, the young lady with dreams.

I was presently Arabella, the bargain.

The vehicle sped down the obscured roads, the city lights dim into dashes of neon and gold. I gazed through the window, attempting to figure out my viewpoints, attempting to understand the way that my life had been exchanged away like a piece or belonging . My heart hurt for the existence I had recently abandoned.

At school, I had friends who felt like family. We would sit under the old oak tree during lunch, chuckling about the silliest things, arranging our prospects.

My closest friend , Emma, would continuously discuss turning into a specialist, her eyes sparkling earnestly. I thought about what she would think when she figured out I wouldn't return. Would she worry? Would she attempt to track me down? The idea made tears fill my eyes.

The homeroom recollections streaked before me, the unremarkable minutes presently touched with a clashing yearning. The way Mrs. Peterson would ramble on about literature,her energy irresistible even to the individuals who professed not to mind. The manner in which we would pass notes and laugh during math class, realizing we ought to be focusing yet unfit to oppose the excitement of secret communications.