SOLD TO THE BILLIONAIRE, REBORN FOR REVENGE

The atmosphere in the room felt thick enough to choke her. Diane Morel stood frozen near the long mahogany table, a smooth polished surface that had witnessed decades of the family’s power, secrets, and greed. Tonight it would witness something darker. Something she still could not believe was happening.

she is being sold into a brothel by her own family.

The Morel estate smelled of roses and old money, the kind of scent that masked rot and decade of evil.

Diane morel, young, beautiful, headstrong and last child of the morels, stood near the long mahogany table, her heart hammering beneath her ribs as voices overlapped around her. The air was thick with expensive whiskey and tension. Her family, her own blood spoke in calm, measured tones, the way businessmen negotiated a merger, for her sales.

“Two hundred thousand,” Ethan said, his voice steady, almost bored. “And not a cent less.”

The taller of the two men seated opposite him, strangers in dark suits, their eyes sharp and watchful, inclined his head. “Our client does not bargain. She pays for quality. The girl will be well… positioned.”

The word positioned struck Diane like a blade. She stepped forward, trembling. “Ethan, please, what are you doing?”

Her brother didn’t look at her. “This is for the best, Diane.”

“You have been a constant, embarrassment to this family”

“An embarrassment?” Her voice cracked, laced with tears. “You’re selling me into prostitution!”

Her mother exhaled softly, as though Diane’s words were an inconvenience. “Stop being dramatic, darling. You’ve always been so emotional.” “Always been against the ways of this family, always countering the decisions made for this family."

Across the room, Lydia, Diane’s best friend clutched her hands together, tears pooling in her eyes, “Mrs. Morel, please,” she whispered. “You can’t do this. She’s your daughter.”

But Diane's mother didn’t answer. Her gaze was fixed on the contract before her, on the fountain pen her husband now held poised above the line. Her father, Anthony morel, tall, composed, his expression hard and controlled, signed with a flourish.

“There,” he said quietly. “It’s done.”

Diane’s breath hitched. “Dad, how could you?”

Her father finally met her eyes. There was no guilt in his gaze, only resignation. “You’ve brought too much shame, Diane. Too much attention, you have always been a constant pain to this family. It’s time you learned your place.”

“My place?” she echoed, her voice a trembling whisper. “You mean selling me is putting me in my place?” “How could you do this dad, all my life i have done everything to get your approval and love?”

“Is this because I threatened to go to the police with the evidence of what Ethan had done to that girl? Dad, if somebody did something like that to me, how would you feel? She may be the cook’s daughter, poor, illegal immigrant, and dirty but she is human and deserve our respect”.

"Why do you have me this much, Dad?"

Diane broke down completely, crying silently, tears streaming down her face mixed with snot as she begs her family not to sell her.

Ethan her own brother, turned towards her then, his smile empty. “It’s nothing personal, sis. Consider it… a change of scenery. And moreover, your so called “human” Clair begged for it, with her wearing those short skirts and tight top, I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t rape her; I only had sex with her.”

Lydia moved before the men could, stepping between Diane and the men. “You can’t take her!” she cried. “This isn’t right!”

The shorter of the two mercenaries, the one with a scar cutting down his cheek, reached into his coat, revealing a folded envelope. He slid it across the table. “Madam Seraphine’s payment, in full.”