20
~Bella's POV
I walked back to the brothel with heavy steps, the day's weight pressing down on my shoulders. The scorching afternoon sun only added to my misery. My heart felt as if it was dragging along the ground, bruised and battered. By the time I got to my room, I collapsed onto the small, worn-out bed, staring at the ceiling as tears blurred my vision.
I didn't even bother wiping them away. What was the point? Bills were piling up faster than I could keep track.
The memory of the man from earlier—the one who had given me the order not to see any clients except him—flashed through my mind. His voice, deep and commanding, echoed in my head. I didn't even know his name, but there was something about him that unnerved me. His presence was overpowering, like a storm brewing on the horizon.
