Chapter 1: Sold By Stepfather

Jasmine's POV

I stared at William, unable to process his words.

"What do you mean you've found me a husband?" I was almost shocked speechless.

William leaned back in chair, swirling his drink. His expression was cold and calculated.

"Exactly what I said, Jasmine. I've accepted the Mitchell family's offer. You'll be marrying their second son." He took a casual sip of his drink. "It's a rather generous arrangement, if you ask me."

"This is illegal! You can't just sell people like this. I'm eighteen, not your property!" My hands clenched into fists.

"I'd watch that tone if I were you." William's eyes narrowed. "The Mitchells are not people you want to cross. They're very powerful, very connected."

"I don't care who they are! I'm not going!"

William set his glass down with deliberate slowness. "You misunderstand me. This isn't a request. The Mitchells have paid a substantial amount to settle my debts in exchange for you." His voice hardened. "And if you refuse, I can't guarantee your mother's safety... or yours."

I felt my hands trembling. "You're threatening us? Your own family?"

He laughed, a cold sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Family? Don't be naive. Your mother was convenient, and you've been nothing but a nuisance." He slowly stood up. "Start preparing. You'll be leaving in a few days."

I can't breathe, I can't think. I grab my coat and run toward the door, but William's threats follow me everywhere I go. There's no escape.

I hate William, but I have no choice but to listen to him. He's been my stepfather since I was born. Supposedly, my father abandoned my mother, and William "kindly" took us in. Living with him all these years has been like a nightmare. He drinks too much, gambles, and sometimes gets violent. My mom and I live in constant fear of him.

That's why he sold me off so easily, like I was some old piece of clothing. Well, I guess I'm worth a lot more than old clothes—they can't pay off his gambling debts!

I'm heartbroken, but today I finally worked up the courage to go to the training center to say goodbye to my team. I couldn't just disappear without saying anything. After all these years together, they're like family to me. And I wanted to say goodbye to my dream of becoming an Olympic gymnastics champion. They were so sad to see me go. Everyone cried at my goodbye party. I held back my tears, the pain inside nearly spilling over. I almost told them everything I'm going through, but at the last second, I ran out of the training center before I could say a word.

Now I'm standing in the training center parking lot, clutching the silver necklace my teammates just gave me. My fingers trace the small gymnast charm, its familiar shape a painful reminder of everything I'm about to leave behind.

"You'll always be part of the team, Jasmine," Coach had said, her usually stern voice wavering. But we both knew that wasn't true. After today, I wouldn't be part of anything anymore.

I heard quick footsteps behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was – I'd recognize those steps anywhere after fourteen years of training together.

"Jasmine, wait!" Thomas's voice breaks the silence. He's still in his training clothes, his chest rising and falling slightly from running after me. "You can't just leave like this. You just won the World Championship, you're about to achieve your dream. There's no reason to leave now. And what about our promise? To stand on the podium together."

I couldn't look at him. If I did, all my resolve would crumble. We'd grown up together in this training center, shared every triumph and failure since we were four years old.

"You don't have to go," he said, moving closer. "Boston has plenty of great universities. Your grades are excellent. We could..." He trailed off, and I saw the unspoken words in his eyes.

My throat tightened. I wanted to tell him everything – about William's threats, about how this wasn't my choice, about how desperately I wished I could stay. But I couldn't drag Thomas into this nightmare. He deserved better than to be caught up in my family's darkness.

Instead, I hugged him tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of chalk and sweat that always clung to him after practice. For a split second, I let myself imagine a different reality—one where we went to college together, trained for the Olympics side by side, built a life on our own terms.

"Jasmine..." Thomas's voice was barely a whisper. "What aren't you telling me?"

The 86 bus rumbled past the center, my cue to leave. Before I could think better of it, I quickly pressed my lips to Thomas's cheek. "Goodbye," I whispered, then turned and ran toward the bus stop, refusing to look back. I couldn't bear to see his expression.

I got off the bus three stops early. I needed to walk, to clear my head, to find some way to accept what was happening.

The smell of pot roast hit me as soon as I opened the front door. Mom always made it for special occasions, though I couldn't see what was worth celebrating today. William was already at the dining table, looking irritatingly pleased with himself.

"Finally decided to grace us with your presence?" William's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Your mother and I were just discussing the arrangements. The Mitchell family has generously agreed to let you continue your gymnastics hobby in New York. That's more than generous, wouldn't you say?"

I dropped my gym bag on the floor with a thud. "Hobby? Is that what you call something I've dedicated my entire life to?"

William's eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, young lady. This arrangement is already more than you deserve."

"More than I deserve?" The anger that had been building all day suddenly erupted. "What exactly do I deserve, William? To be sold like cattle? To have my life destroyed because you couldn't pay your own debts?"

"Jasmine, please—" Mom whispered, but I couldn't stop.

"What should I be grateful for? The years you've spent terrorizing my mother? Or using me as your personal ATM now that my career has actually started paying off?"

William's chair scraped against the floor as he stood. In three quick strides, he was in front of me, his face inches from mine.

"You ungrateful little bitch," he snarled, his breath hot on my face. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you?"

I laughed, the sound harsh and unfamiliar to my own ears. "Done for me? Name one thing you've ever done that wasn't ultimately for yourself."

His hand shot out so fast I didn't even see it coming. The force of the slap sent me stumbling backward until my back hit the wall. The side of my face burned.

"You listen to me." He pinned me against the wall, his forearm pressing against my collarbone. "Tomorrow morning, you are going to New York. You are going to do exactly as you're told. Because if you don't..." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Your mother might have an unfortunate accident. Do you understand?"

"Jasmine, please..." Mom's quiet voice barely registered. She hadn't looked up from her plate once.

I didn't say anything more. William released me and stepped back, straightening his shirt. "Be ready at 7 AM. And put some ice on that face. They're expecting a bride, not a punching bag."